Chapter 25
Durin
Since learning of the youngling, my urgency to complete this mission has only intensified. I want him to grow up safe, far from any realm where evil reigns. Perhaps, when the queen is gone, I’ll have the courage to tell Rue the truth about myself. If she accepts me, we could be a family and raise the little one together.
I’ve spent considerable time with Rue and the pup, but my focus is still firmly on my goal. I’m working to establish my presence among the shifters. Hopefully, word is spreading through the camps that a fae with the power to make a difference is here and ready to act.
I’ve located the edges of a few shifter camps, marked by noticeable trails of wolf prints. As I find them, I’ve been writing down the list from my head to share with them; names and descriptions of the nobles, their abilities, weaknesses, and any tendencies to wander where they shouldn’t. I sign them with my name. It’s risky, but I want them to know who the information is coming from. If I hope to have their support in moving against the queen, they’ll need to know I’m on their side.
I asked the dryads if they’d deliver the notes to the Primes in each pack on my behalf. They agreed, which is going to be a huge help. Shifters trust the dryads, and once they’ve verified the information I’ve provided, they should see me as an ally.
When I spot any shifters in the forest who haven’t hidden themselves well enough, I hand them small sacs of my extra coin. Each one includes a piece of parchment with the letter “D” on it to identify myself. The coin is helpful, but it also shows that I mean no harm and that I’m looking out for them.
It seems to already be working. Some of the weaker nobles have been notably absent. I’ve not seen Annah, a drunken dreamweaver, or the twin creature summoners for over a week. I hope the wolves got a good snack or two out of them first.
The shifters have even managed to pick off Torren, the nosy shadow caster who was constantly following me around. It’ll be nice not to have to check my back so thoroughly anytime I want to see Rue.
The other nobles have been oblivious to their absences, too caught up in themselves to worry about anyone else. They’re worthless. They’ve never seen true battle. Sure, they use their power to fend off some of the more dangerous lesser fae. But mostly, they use their power against the helpless, even their own kind.
I’ve seen lightbenders bet on how many of an innot’s eyes they can blind in one shot, dreamweavers attacking the minds of innocent fae napping outside their homes, and fire elementals summoning fire spirits to scout out shifters alone in the forest for them.
In all the ways I’ve seen them wield their magic, I’ve never witnessed a soldier engage in any kind of training. They rely on the raw power of their magic and don’t bother to refine it.
But the shifters and kelpies fight for survival every day. They’re skilled and experienced warriors. I’m hoping to assemble my own army of real warriors to bring to the castle and show the nobility what real power looks like.
For now, though, I’m impatiently sitting in my room, waiting for Leah and Sarra to bring dinner. I have a question for them I should have asked ages ago. They finally bustle in with the meal, chattering about a tiff between two other servants. As soon as the door closes behind them, I ask.
“Where is the dungeon?”
They both stop and cock their heads at me.
“The dungeon?” Leah asks.
“Yes. I haven’t been able to find it anywhere.”
Sarra empties her tray and begins changing the linens on my bed. Leah unloads her own tray and sits at the table in front of me. “Oh, well, the door is off the kitchens,” she explains, leaning forward on her elbows to peer down at my food.
“The kitchens?” I ask, cutting into my meat. Leah’s nostrils flare as the savory scent rises with the steam. “That would explain why I haven’t found it. I’d never think to look there. It does make sense, though. I suppose the prisoners need to be fed, too.”
Sarra huffs. “There are no prisoners. Only mixed fae shifters. But yes, they need to eat.”
I take a sip of my wine and ask, “Why no prisoners?”
“The queen doesn’t keep fae who have angered her around for long,” Leah says softly.
“Sadly, that adds up,” I mutter, pushing my plate over to her for a bite. Her face lights up, and she spears a piece of meat with my dessert fork.
“I did a quick check for illusioned doors in the kitchens, but I didn’t find any. There are always servants around, though. I must have missed it in my haste.”
“The door isn’t hidden,” Sarra says, fluffing my pillows. “It looks just like the pantry door. I’m sure you glanced right over it.”
Excitement rushes through me as I begin planning my visit. I need to see the dungeon in case I end up there or need to end up there later. “Will anyone stop me if I try to go in?”
“No,” Leah says, popping a grape into her mouth. “Nobody stops the nobles from doing anything. If the queen didn’t want you going in there, she would have said so.”
“Kahras, the handler, is kind,” Sarra says. “He’s a good friend of ours. We’ve already told him about you. That you’re nice and… different from the other nobles.”
I haven’t shared my plan with them, mostly for their own protection. But I’m sure they’ve guessed what I’m up to. They’re good fae, and I think they can sense my good intentions.
I’m surprised to hear that the handler isn’t automatically a foe as I had assumed. He seemed so at ease before the queen, so stoic given his duties were with the dangerous mixed fae. I want to be skeptical, but Leah and Sarra wouldn’t befriend someone evil. I’ll just have to see for myself.
“Thank you both. For the information and for putting in a good word for me,” I say, shoving some vegetables into my mouth.
“More fruit puffs for you,” I tell Leah. She squeals and clasps her hands together.
“And spiced wine for you,” I tell Sarra with a wink. She scoffs and tries to act annoyed, but we all know she loves the stuff.
As soon as they leave, I head to the kitchens. Servants rush about, ensuring there’s enough food for the gluttonous nobles who will come and go throughout the evening. I ask one of them to send some fruit puffs and spiced wine to my room, then study the pantry doors.
One door is getting a lot of use, while the other stands ignored. That must be the one. Once the servant runs off to fulfill my request, I stride over to the door and let myself in. Sure, the servants around me may find it strange, but Leah’s right. Who’s going to stop me?
Small torches flicker on the gray stone walls, casting a feeble light in the dark corridor. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. The castle feels eerie with all the white, bland surfaces. Walking into this dark hole of a corridor is equally unsettling, though.
The ceiling is low, and the walls feel too close together. Tall, spindly shadows dance across the uneven floor, which curves to the left, leaving me blind to whatever lies ahead.
The crackling of the torches is all I can hear. No growling, hissing, or clanging of chains. Wherever the mixed fae are, they’re not a threat to me yet. Besides, now that I have the queen’s power, I should be fine against a group of them if it comes to it. The only real threat I can imagine would be the queen herself, and I doubt she likes to spend much time here. The decor doesn’t really seem to fit her style.
I walk slowly around the bend, counting the torches as I pass. When I reach eleven, a door on my right creaks open. I freeze, and my magic surges through me, gathering in my fingertips.
But it’s just the handler. He jumps back in surprise at the sight of my glowing hands and retreats back into the room he came out of.
“Kahras?” I ask, pulling my magic back. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Leah and Sarra told me where to find you. I’d just like to talk if you’re willing.”
He peeks his head out and glances nervously behind me, then gestures for me to follow him into the room. Once inside, he closes the door, then tugs at his tunic and flicks his gaze up to me for only a second.
His demeanor has changed since I last saw him, handling the mixed fae for the queen. Then, his movements were fluid and confident. He was perfectly composed. Now, he seems quite insecure. His hands fidget nervously, and light blue strands stick haphazardly out of his long braid.
“I know you’re not like the others,” he finally says, clasping his hands together to still them. “I could tell you didn’t want to hurt the mixed fae when the queen ordered you to kill him. It was in your eyes. Luckily, the queen didn’t notice before our empath changed that. Am I right?”
“Yes,” I say, trusting Leah and Sarra’s opinion of him. “That’s exactly what happened.”
I scan the room, which seems to be some sort of workshop. Countless vials of colorful liquids fill the shelves, some glowing, some vibrating in their containers. Pestles and small silk pouches litter the tables and even the floors. I count three different scales and a dozen small casks filled with soil and different kinds of herbs along the back wall.
“I’m an alchemist,” he tells me, gripping the edge of a large table in the center of the room.
“That’s how you controlled them,” I say, meaning his expert maneuvering on my first day in the castle. “Elixirs and potions.”
“An elixir applied to the chains actually controls them, not me,” he says. “I simply manipulate the chains.”
He moves to the back wall and picks up a large vial of brown liquid and swirls it in his hands as he speaks. “The queen has tasked me with creating all sorts of compounds over the years. Her main interest is in the ones I’ve developed to calm the mixed fae. But what she really wants is one I’ve been struggling with–a potion to bring back the ones lost to the bloodlust.”
He puts back the vial and turns to face me. “She’s obsessed with it. Obsessed with them.”
I feel a rush of hope, learning there may be aid for my youngling’s own struggles one day. “So, the calming elixirs have been successful? They help with the bloodlust?”
He nods. “Oh yes. Very much. Especially for the ones who haven’t lost themselves. But I haven’t managed to bring the others back. They’re calmer, but that’s as far as it gets.”
It’s excellent news. Rue will be relieved to hear that there’s help for Vaegon. But something else Kahras said sobers me.
“Why the obsession?” I ask. “What does the queen want with them? She doesn’t need the protection.”
“No, she doesn’t need protection. She needs them , though,” he says, and I can’t help but notice more than a hint of disgust in his voice. “She likes to flaunt them around sometimes, like she did with you, to intimidate those who might oppose her. But that’s not why she keeps them.”
“Wait,” I say as I realize something major doesn’t add up. “Why would she put out an order for the mixed fae to be killed on sight if she wants them so badly?”
“Did she instruct you to kill them?” he asks, raising his brows at me. “Other than the one she had you demonstrate your magic against?”
“Well, no…” I say, running through the few words she’s shared with me. She didn’t really have many instructions for me at all other than take no lovers and don’t kill Folas.
“Right,” Kahras says, pointing a finger at me. “She never commanded that. The nobles made it up because they fear the mixed fae. The lost ones can be extremely powerful. The nobles feel threatened, so they kill the mixed fae they find before they can turn.”
“Why does the queen allow the nobles to kill them, though?”
“Riggus, the tracker, finds them. That’s his role–looking for mixed fae in the wild. He’s much better at finding them than the other soldiers.”
Rue told me about the mixed fae in her former pack. She said it’s common to have at least one in a pack. I assume Riggus is finding the ones who run off during fits of bloodthirsty rage and are no longer under the protection of their pack.
I suddenly realize how little I’ve learned during my time in the castle. If I’d made friends with the nobles before they discovered my role as consort, I’d have much better information. But who would I become living among their influence? If I’m meant for this mission, the information should come as I need it. All I have to do right now is listen.
“Why is the queen collecting them?” I ask, getting back to the original question.
He leans forward on his hands and glares at the floor. “She stores her power in them. Like some sort of living vessels.”
It takes me a moment to process because that makes absolutely no sense. Giving me some of her magic wasn’t that risky. She can still easily overpower me. But giving it to a group of unpredictable mixed fae is just foolish.
“That’s madness,” I scoff. “If she shares her magic with them, lost to the bloodlust or not, they can rise up together and use it against her.”
“No. She’s not foolish enough to do that,” he says shaking his head repetitively. “That’s not what magic she’s storing in them. The queen has more than just battle magic. She also has a form of timeless magic. Magic that lets her life stretch on indefinitely. That’s what she’s using the mixed fae for.”
“How could you possibly know that?” I ask, crossing my arms. She would never share such sensitive information with anyone.
“Alchemists can sense the pulse of life. Everything living has its own unique vibration,” he says.
He moves to the side wall and pours a glass of water from a jug. A potted calantar sits on the table beside the jug. Kahras brings both the glass and the plant over and sets them on the table.
With one hand, he cradles the flower’s petals with his fingers. With the other, he touches the rim of the glass. I watch intently as the surface of the water gently ripples. It’s soft, like a pixie delicately dipping its toes into the liquid before darting away. As long as he’s touching the flower, the tiny ripples continue.
“The difference in the mixed fae’s life pulse before and after she visits them makes it very clear to me what she’s doing,” Kahras says. He withdraws his hand from the flower and rests it on my forearm. “It’s like this.”
The instant his fingers touch my skin, the water begins to stir. Larger ripples spread out from the center, morphing into miniature tidal waves that crash against the glass. Bubbles form at the bottom, racing to the surface and sloshing water over the rim and Kahras’s hand.
In mere seconds, the glass is empty, its contents gone, leaving only the vessel behind.
“Thank you. That was very helpful,” I tell him, truly impressed by the demonstration. “But it doesn’t explain why she would need to store her timeless magic. Magic doesn’t just run out.”
“Perhaps it does when you’ve lived as long as she has,” he says as he dries his hands. “In any case, something is wrong with that particular magic. She’s still beautiful, but have you noticed her voice?”
“I have. Who could miss it?” I ask, curling my lip in disgust.
“She visits the mixed fae at each season’s end and passes some of her magic along to them. She leaves looking depleted, uglier. But the mixed fae she passes it to tremble with the higher levels of vitality inside them. The next time I see her, she looks mysteriously rejuvenated. But it fades as the weeks pass, and she comes to reclaim some of the magic, restoring her appearance and energy. Her voice, however, rarely changes.”
Kahras closes his eyes and sighs. “The mixed fae she draws from go back to their former states once she’s taken her power back. At least she doesn’t take any of their own life force. Only what she transferred in the first place. Though, I’m sure she would if she were able.”
“She visits them at the end of each season?” I ask, running my hands through my hair. “What is with her and the seasons?”
“What do you mean?” he asks, clasping his hands together.
It’s no longer a secret that I’m her consort. I shouldn’t feel ashamed to bring up those particular duties, but I do. Knowing I’ve been forced into this role doesn’t do anything to lessen the shame, though. It only fuels my anger.
But anger won’t do us any good. I decide to bury the rage and shame inside and just tell him.
“She only requires her consort’s attention at each season’s change. Also, Leah heard that she goes into the forest to commune with Faerie at those times as well.”
“I wasn’t aware of any of that,” he says, grabbing a parchment from the table and scribbling on it. “Perhaps I should venture out of the dungeon more… I’ll have to think on it. There’s definitely a connection.”
“I’ll do the same.” I turn and open his door, a little nervous being down here for so long. “Before I go, can I see them?”
I don’t really want to. I’ll just picture my pup being in there. I should really know the layout, though.
“Of course. But they may not be happy you’re there, even if I tell them you’re safe.”
I nod and follow him out into the hallway. I don’t need them to like me. I just need to see the dungeon. I’m not a fan of surprises.
He leads me farther down the corridor to a large, bolted door at the end. He slides the bolt away and drags the heavy door open. I hear soft growling and shuffling footsteps from inside, but nothing like the crazed sounds from the throne room.
I step into the dungeon, surprised by how bright it is. It’s not damp and musty like I’d expected, either. It actually smells clean, likely thanks to the small windows on either side that let fresh air flow through.
The room is divided into two sections–one for the mixed fae lost to the bloodlust and one for those who haven’t succumbed to it yet. About twenty unaffected ones share a giant cell with three stone walls and a front wall made of iron bars.
There are small sleeping pallets along one side, a seating area in the middle, and a bathing area in the corner. The floor is covered by a soft moss, cushioning their bare feet from the hard stone. The seating area has a large table cluttered with books, weaving and sewing materials like vines and yarn, and a few small musical instruments.
Calantars grow in pots along the edges of the large cell, casting a warm glow over the space. They sit calmly, shifting their eyes between Kahras and me. The mixed fae look well, content as anyone can be in a dungeon. It doesn’t fit with what I know of the queen.
The cells for the fae lost to the bloodlust match her hateful nature better. They’re separated from each other by stone walls, probably for their own protection. Their cells are small, equipped only with a sleeping mat and a chamber pot, many of which are overturned or damaged. Runes line the walls of the cells, glowing faintly with what I’d assume to be containment wards.
There are twice as many of them as the others. They’re all either sleeping or holding onto the bars, staring out at me. Their growls are low, and they appear more relaxed than before, though that wild look still lingers in their eyes. Kahras’s elixir truly seems to have given them some relief from the madness. But as he said, it’s still there.
“This is Durin, everyone,” Kahras tells them. “I wanted you to meet him so that, if you see him again, you’ll know he’s here to help.”
The mixed fae regard me with uncertainty, but many nod at Kahras. They clearly trust him. Even the crazed ones don’t take their eyes off him for long. It seems they’ve built a bond over the years. I’m glad to see that they haven’t been left in squalor and distress.
“Why aren’t there any other species here?” I ask. “Why just them?
“The queen has tried with all types of high and lesser fae. Mixed fae shifters seem to be the only species that can hold her power without draining it. I haven’t figured out why that is, but she doesn’t bother with the others anymore.”
“Why are there more crazed ones?”
“They seem able to hold more magic than the others. I think she only keeps the unaffected ones because the lost fae often lose control and take their own lives. I’m sure she doesn’t like her magic being wasted.”
Thinking of my son succumbing in that way weakens me. But the thought of him being a storage barrel for the heartless bitch makes me want to peel every inch of skin off her body.
But I have to keep my head on straight and focus on the mixed fae. Kahras is giving me good information. I can’t afford to miss anything.
“That’s why she wanted you to make a calming elixir for them,” I mutter, once my rage has settled back down.
“Yes. I give it to them all,” he says.
So, the queen’s magic isn’t working properly, or she’s running out of it. That’s why, when she learned I could increase my power, she decided to try her little trick on me, too. But with her other magic–her battle magic.
Only she wants me to grow it, not simply store it.
I wonder if she’s given me some of her timeless magic as well. If she has, I can’t feel it. I’m tempted to ask Kahras if he can sense any of that in me, but I’m still not comfortable telling anyone I have some of her battle magic. Not yet.
I think I understand now why I’m never given any real duties. She doesn’t want to risk putting her magic in dangerous situations where it would be used up or her vessel could be lost. She lets me think I’m free, but really, she can’t afford for me to resist her and run off with her power.
Very shrewd of her. Because that’s exactly what would happen.
I’ll play along. Now that I think about it, I do feel more powerful than I did weeks ago. Not enough that I would have noticed it without looking for it. It’s definitely growing, though.
But I’ll be damned if I let her know it.