Chapter Twenty-Four #2
“Where is everyone?”
“No ridiculously large beds in this shithole church, so Kai slept with Ollie. Rather insisted upon it, I might add. I got the leftovers.”
Smug prick, I think fondly.
He clears his throat. “I’m glad you’re awake. Are you feeling better? Kai said a good night’s sleep was all you needed to recover from expending so much magic. I’ve spent so much time with Ollie who is so fragile, magically, that—”
I’m grinning. “Why, dragon, you weren’t... worried about me, were you?”
“Absolutely not. I just didn’t want to have to tell Ollie that you were still insensible.” He sniffs.
Memory of Lilac crashes over me.
“Fuck.” I sit up, and he slowly does as well. “I need to get back to Thistle Grove. I need to tell Rosie.”
He nods, silent. “Kai offered to go last night, but Ollie started to cry and he couldn’t leave her.”
My throat closes. I swallow hard. “It’s my responsibility.”
“C’mon,” Vale tosses over his nude shoulder as he stands. My eyes drop down his body, his tail emerging from just between the tops of his blue cheeks. The Fae has a nice ass, that’s for certain.
“If you’re done oogling me, Commander, perhaps we should find some food?” he asks pertly.
A tiny laugh escapes me, followed by guilt. Guilt that I can find laughter when Rosie’s world is collapsing.
SERVANTS ARE BUSTLING about, firmly ignoring me and Vale, as we enter the kitchen in the smaller rotunda. Though smaller is a misnomer, it’s as large as Thistle Grove Keep. I see Fae hurrying about, carrying armfuls of fabric and other things, headed outside.
As we sit at a long table, obviously meant for the folk of the Cathedral, Ollie blows in, hair up in two buns, her breeches and a loose blouse on. Her face is a mask and I know she’s hiding her pain.
“Perfect, to the fire,” she directs, looking at two servants carrying a rug between them.
I arch an eyebrow and wait for her to sit down.
“Sweetheart?” I ask vaguely.
Identical bright purple-skinned Fae sweep over and put down two plates of food in front of Ollie, both looking smitten with her.
“I’m keeping it.”
I blink. “Keeping... what, exactly?”
“This keep. It’s mine now.”
Vale coughs on his juice.
Ollie continues, “It’s gorgeous, structurally. Once all this gaudy shit is removed, it’ll be even better. And I intend to build a training center in Lilac’s name,” her voice wobbles and the table goes quiet.
Ollie takes a deep breath and presses forward, “And both water and earth Fae would be happy here, air Fae can fly in and out and enjoy the winds over the Dannet. Fire Fae are easy,” she pinches Kai as he sits next to her with a plate of eggs.
He grunts agreement.
“Little Queen,” I say quietly, “What the fuck do you mean? Do you intend to rule from here? After taking Alder’s throne? Or gift it to a supporter? I cannot move the bulk of Misery’s Militia here, it’s impractical, we need a mobile ground force and an island...”
“I understand, Lonan. Still, I’m keeping it. We’ll figure it out as we go. I find the crash of the waves on the cliffs oddly soothing.”
I look down at my plate, frustrated. Something touches my leg and I jump, only to find it’s Vale’s tail around my ankle, the tip stroking me calmingly. I shoot him a look and he shrugs, unrepentant.
Okay, fine, one clusterfuck at a time, I think as I eat.
Finally, I clear my throat. “I need to go to Thistle Grove. I need to speak to Rosalind.”
Kai nods, “I have her ashes. I can... go if you’d prefer.”
“No. I must. And I’ll check on Finnick.”
Ollie’s eyes are wet and she reaches across the table, taking my hand. She nods slowly, “Send my love, to both of them. To everyone.”
I ANGLE MY GRIFFON down, towards the newly marked landing ground. She lands lightly, and as I dismount, turns to press her beak into my side. I pat her mechanically as one of the young Fae runs to take her.
“Rub her down and give her some extra rabbit,” I mutter.
I pace off the field, headed for the town. Lilac and Rosie live on Sun Avenue, I think dully.
But as I turn off the main street, there she is.
Rosalind. Her rich red hair is a messy cloud around her reddened face. Her eyes are bloodshot but her mouth is set.
She felt the loss of Lilac when her lifethread was cut. It severed their heart bond. My chest aches, imagining that hollow in my chest from the loss of Kai or Ollie.
There’s the tiniest hint of hope in her eyes and it’s too much for me to take. My throat hurts with the effort of keeping my tears back. I understand her hope though. I’d never give up hope until it was verified. Until I saw them with my own eyes.
“She’s gone,” I blurt.
I shake my head as Rosie fights for control of herself. “She died a hero, keeping Ollie safe. She said...” I pause, swallowing. “She said she loves you. For me to kill Alder—for you.”
Rosie collapses with a sob, her green gown billowing around her. Several of the women of the village emerge and drop to their knees around her.
I step forward leadenly. I drop my pack and pull out the ceramic container.
“My words are not enough, not nearly enough Rosie, but I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Her sobs are loud and unabated. She manages to look at me and give a tiny nod. Another woman takes Lilac’s ashes from me delicately, giving me an understanding look. Rosie's wail pierces the background of my fuzzy mind.
“Go on, then,” says the yellow-haired Fae kindly, “Get to the keep.”
I nod and spin, trying to block out Rosie’s sorrow.
I have to keep going.
I, the leader of the rebellion, cannot wallow in the loss of my captain, even though her memory deserves it.
Even though I know I would never survive the loss of my mates.
As I climb the steps to my keep, the doors are thrown open and a half-naked Finnick throws himself at me. I catch the barest glimpse of various wrapped wounds before his arms are around my neck. I tilt my head as I hold him to me delicately, burying my nose in his loose soft hair.
“Lonan,” he breathes and my arms tighten.
WE’RE SETTLED AT MY round table in the dining room. Cook had hugged me and cried and asked after everyone else. All the workers of the keep had red-ringed eyes. Lu’s tail had disappeared. Everyone was stricken with the loss of one of our leaders. Lilac.
My stomach turns on the delicious root stew Cook had served. I push my bowl back and pick at the bread.
Finn makes a sound and his hand lands on my thigh from where he sits next to me.
“I’m sorry, love,” he mutters quietly.
Caspian, in his typical black, eyes us tenderly while Korben looks down at his plate, his pale yellow hair in his eyes. They had returned a few nights ago, things at Squall’s End all neatly squared away, only to find chaos at home.
Finn continues softly, “It was not your fault. Lilac knew the risks—”
I slam my fist down, rattling the dishes. “Damn the risks. I did not keep one of my most trusted safe. That is my failure.”
I push myself to my feet and leave the room. I hear footsteps behind me, more than one set, but I do not slow or look back. Instead I head for the basements.
My feet hit the stairs in an angry staccato. I am not in a forgiving mood. But, given what this bastard did to Ollie, that’s just fine.
I open the door to the gaol, the greased hinges silent. The smell of unwashed wounds wafts over me.
Curled in the far cell is Ordained Rafe. He’s in rather dingy black robes, huddled in a ball in his spacious cell. He deserves less.
In the low, flickering light of the gaol, I can see that he does not wear the lake-pearl necklace of a soothsayer, for he does not possess that ability.
No, the only ability that was seen in him, back when he was an orphaned Faeling, is his pretty face and grasping mind.
His long rust-colored hair is matted with blood and almost blends in with his maroon skin.
He’s a striking Fae, and obviously smart.
But his head raises slowly, his dulled brown eyes meeting mine.
His nose looks broken from the warm-up roughing up Kai gave him back on the Isles.
I leer, quite excited to give this fucker exactly what he has coming.
I squat in front of the bars. “Ordained Rafe Monkwick,” I utter his title and names slowly as I pull out my dagger and flip it idly. “How lovely to meet you properly.”
The door behind me opens and I flick a glance in that direction. Finnick and Caspian, the concern writ clear upon their faces.
Rafe drags his head up to look at me. All I see in his bloodshot gaze is confusion.
Rage burns inside me at that.
He doesn’t even know. He’s done so many wretched things, he doesn’t even know what I seek retribution for.
Fuck him, I think, even as I allow my magic to flow.
Tears gather in his eyes as he sits upright. He looks at me, on the other side of the cell door, wiping the tears from his cheeks. He looks at his hand in a surprised manner as his eyes continue to leak.
I sneer. “Did you know that both Fae and human bodies are about sixty percent water?”
The tears fall faster, quickly dripping from his eyes.
Fear consumes his face.
Not nearly afraid enough.
Finnick comes to my side, a hand placed silently upon my arm.
Rafe coughs dryly, “You rebels will be punished.”
Too bad Kai isn’t here to drop the temperature running through his veins so we can freeze the water inside them. The pain is exquisite.
“Oh, ho,” I purr, “No, you will be punished. And do you know why?”
He leans over, water starting to drip from his parched lips.
“No,” his voice cracks, “No. You want... the throne.”
I stand as I insert the heavy metal key into the lock. I swing the door open and cross to him, dropping to my knees.
“I’ve never wanted the throne. What I’ve only ever wanted were the innocent lives brought back. Peace. But since that is not possible, I will end Alder. And you. You... for raping my mate.”
I toss him onto his back as I stand over him.
Finn makes a concerned noise but I ignore it.
My naked blade is pressed to Rafe’s neck. A thin line of red blood appears on his dark skin.
“Who?” he gasps, “Who is your mate? I am sor—”
“Oh, you fucking will be,” I snarl. I place a foot on his breastbone and I use my dagger to cut his black robes off.
His body is of an older Fae, soft and wobbly in the parts that tend to get soft and wobbly, especially when you’re a spoiled hound of the king, handfed his scraps.
“Please, I never intended—”
“Shut the fuck up,” I snarl. I lean over and cut a strip of his robes. I quickly tie it around his head. I don’t want to hear his fucking voice.
I insert my blade into his lower belly, cutting a clean slice. Rafe’s piercing screams are pleasing to my ear. For whatever reason, his agony seems to settle my swirling emotions. Something I should probably unpack later.
Finnick gags as I hear Caspian settle nearby, less disconcerted with my antics. He’s seen some shit over the years.
“Best nut up, pretty boy, since I need you to heal him,” I snarl mercilessly, no regard—currently—for Finn’s feelings.
“Ten years. They kept her locked underground, raped her, tortured her, for ten years. Dare you suggest Ollie deserves less?”
Some shallow recognition seems to flicker across Rafe’s face.
“No. No, Lonan,” Finn whispers.
“Seal the wound,” I command.
Finn’s magic flows and the scent of cauterized flesh fills the air.
“I think I’m going to make you eat your balls,” I say conversationally.
I pause, tilting my head as I think.
“No,” I correct myself, “I’ll save that for Kai when he returns to Thistle Grove.”
I drop my knife and reach into Rafe’s abdomen. I rustle around, the wet sounds similar to rain splashing off an uneven surface.
“Ah ha!” I cry triumphantly as I wrap my hand around the slender, slippery intestine as he screams pitifully.
Not nearly pitifully enough.
Yet.