16. Tempest
16
TEMPEST
“ T his is Reyla Jarrn,” Brenna said, rising from her chair and turning to face us all. “Zayde, the king’s son, claimed her. Reyla? Allow me to introduce you to Delaine Adwarin, our high advisor’s daughter, and Tempest, our controller’s claimed Nullen.” Brenna frowned. “I don’t believe I caught your last name, Tempest.”
“Lucerna,” I said as demurely as I could. I held my hand out to Reyla. “It’s nice to meet you.”
She stared at my hand or maybe nothing, her arms remaining limp at her sides.
“I was told she takes commands well,” Brenna said with a sigh. “Truly, you’d think the king would assign me better staff.” She tittered. “I’m not complaining about you, Delaine, or you, Tempest, though you’ve just arrived, and I’ve yet to fully assess your abilities. But I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with Reyla.” Her lips thinned as she flicked her slender, bejeweled fingers toward my friend. “Some collared Nullens are capable of performing whatever task I might ask, yet a few . . .” She shook her head. “I swear, some of them are rather dull and unresponsive. I can’t imagine why.”
I felt bad for her; she had no idea what was coming.
“But she belongs to Zayde, and I’m very happy to help him in this situation,” Brenna hastily added.
Because he was the king’s son? Perhaps.
“Would you like me to show Reyla her duties?” Delaine asked, slanting a sly look my way.
What was she planning?
Brenna tutted. “Yes, would you? I have so much to do to get ready for lunch with the king and then take my place on the throne he promised to place beside his own.” She sauntered out of the room and dropped down onto a sofa, lying flat on the surface. “I’m tired. Take care of things here, ladies. I’m going to doze for a bit.”
But we’d just fixed her hair—or Delaine had. Wasn’t she worried about messing it up?
Brenna wasn’t impressing me any more today than she had the only other time I met her. Since she hadn’t even looked my way when I stood among the other riders during my capitol visit, and we hadn’t been formally introduced, I doubted she remembered my face. I was just one Nullen among many others, one not worth even a speck of her time.
While Brenna rumpled her dress and undid Delaine’s work on her hair, I started collecting jewelry from the top of the vanity, taking it over to the bank of drawers mounted into the wall, laying each item in the velvet lined compartments .
Delaine took Reyla’s arm and urged her toward the closet. “I want you to clean this room,” she said slowly, as if she spoke to a two-year-old. “Do you know how to do that?”
Reyla, my beautiful, outspoken friend, stared at Delaine’s shoulder, saying nothing.
Delaine growled. “Pick up the dresses. Place them on the hangers. Line up the shoes. Can you at least do that?”
Her brow tightening, Reyla slowly nodded.
It was all I could do not to cry. How was I going to help her? I needed to fix her mind if I could, but the first thing I needed to do was remove her collar without killing her.
“Good.” Delaine’s lips tightened. “You may end up being more work than help, Reyla, but we’ll see what we can do with you. If you find anything that’s soiled, set it aside for the sprites to take care of.”
Reyla nodded again. She didn’t look my way, and she gazed at the wall blankly before moving around Delaine and entering the closet where she lifted a dress and started slowly arranging it on a hanger.
“She’s not much for conversation,” Delaine said with a cackle.
Fuck Delaine. If I zapped her with my finger and lit her hair on fire, would Brenna notice?
Before I could do anything about Delaine, she left the bedroom. “I’ll go tidy the living area.”
It had looked pristine when I was there; I doubted it needed any straightening. I bet she was going to sit on a sofa and relax, but I didn’t care if she did. Anything that kept her away from me and Reyla was a good thing .
Zayde strode into the room. His gaze sought Reyla before his shoulders loosened. I wanted to snarl at him, accuse him of not protecting my friend, but he was as helpless as me here.
When he entered the sitting area, I followed, fidgeting with a tangled necklace while watching them.
Brenna sat up and fluffed her hair. She slid off the sofa and walked over to stand in front of him.
“Zayde,” she said in a surprisingly breathless voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Reyla’s my collared Nullen. I stopped by to make sure this arrangement was working out.”
“She just arrived.” Brenna’s gaze drifted toward the closet where Reyla continued to mechanically hang dresses. I worked to unravel another necklace. “She’s rather quiet, but I’m sure she’ll work out fine.” She looked up at him with color burnishing her face.
“How are the wedding plans coming along?” he bit out. His gaze flicked to me, but he didn’t acknowledge me, not even with a blink of his eyes. Was he pretending he didn’t know me?
“Well enough,” Brenna said, lowering her gaze to the floor. “I have a wedding dress fitting today, and the sprites are bringing by the rest of my trousseau to ensure I’m happy with the organizer’s choices.”
The clothing the king planned to strip off her body. Or would he bother? Once collared, he might simply drain her Lydel power and leave her lying lifeless on the throne room floor.
“You’ll be a gorgeous bride,” Zayde said.
“Thank you. ”
He shifted to the side, and his gaze met mine. The pleading there told me he wanted me to remain quiet about our relationship and perhaps, what I was seeing with Brenna.
These two . . . I wasn’t completely sure about what was happening here, but I had my suspicions.
If they were caught, the king would kill them.
“I’m sure everything will be lovely.” Brenna’s shoulders lifted and dropped with her sigh. “How else can I feel about all this?” She walked over and perched on one of the sofas, staring toward the fire perking merrily on the smooth marble stones. “I’m doing all I can to . . .” Her words choked off, and she sent a glance at me.
I slunk back into the bedroom and pretended I was absorbed in straightening the doily on a nearby table, fluffing the flower arrangement and picking up a few fallen blossoms to throw away.
“I’ll see you another time, then,” Zayde said curtly.
“Yes. Please visit me again, soon-to-be,” Brenna gulped. “stepson.”
He left, and she slumped on the sofa.
I backed all the way into the bedroom and continued to putter around, straightening it while Drask fluttered his wings on my shoulder.
Delaine sauntered into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, watching while Reyla and I worked.
Brenna finally rose and joined us.
“I must attend lunch with Ivenrail,” she said, clapping her hands. She walked over to the vanity and sat on the ornate chair. “I’m a mess. Fix it, ladies. ”
Reyla left the closet, and when she crossed the room, Delaine held out her arm. Reyla ran right into it.
Delaine shrieked. “What are you doing?” She clutched her shoulder and whimpered. “She hurt me.” Her sly gaze met mine. She knew Reyla and I were best friends. “Punish her hard enough to make her remember not to do anything like that again.”
“I’m not sure I can punish someone who’s clearly not fully functional,” Brenna said softly, a frown wrinkling her pretty face. “It would be mean to hit her, and I promised Zayde I’d watch out for her. Try to stay out of her way, Delaine. That’s probably the best way to handle this.” Learning forward, she squinted into the mirror, flashing herself a smile before rubbing something off the surface of one tooth.
“ That’s all you’re going to do?” Delaine asked. “Tell me to stay out of Reyla’s way?”
“What would you have me do, Delaine?” Brenna asked with lifted eyebrows, her hand dropping to her lap. Her tone made it clear that while Delaine held a high position in this court, Brenna would soon be queen and would outrank her.
Delaine grumbled and hung her head. “You’re right, my lady. Of course. We can’t punish a Nullen who’s this simple.”
Reyla continued to stare at the floor, seemingly oblivious to the conversation.
“You three may leave,” Brenna said graciously after we’d fixed her hair again and smoothed out the wrinkles in her gown. “After dining, I’ll be spending the afternoon in the throne room. You’re welcome to join me there if you’d like. You might be surprised at how savvy I am when it comes to making decisions, though I doubt Ivenrail plans to ask me to solve anything more complex than what we might serve for dinner tomorrow night. Or, if you prefer, you can retire to your rooms and rest. If so, please be here to attend to me two hours before the evening meal. I need to look my best, and I’m dreadful when it comes to arranging my own hair.” Her simpering smile suggested this was a joke. I bet she’d never arranged her own hair.
I chuckled, and she beamed, telling me I was right.
“I’d love to stand quietly beside you in the throne room, my lady,” Delaine said with a deep curtsy.
Since this wasn’t a competition, and I had no interest in exposing myself to Ivenrail’s attention, I deferred. “While I’d adore watching you make important decisions, I have a brutal headache. Retiring to my room sounds like the best choice for me.”
Reyla said nothing, just drifted from the room behind us.
“I’m not done with you yet,” Delaine hissed when the outer door had shut, and we stood alone in the hall. Alone except for the guards and Reyla who took a few steps before freezing in the middle of the corridor, her back facing our way.
Drask fluttered his wings and squawked.
As if she’d forgotten he existed, Delaine reeled backward. Would the guards notice if I told him to feel welcome to claw her face?
“I’m not sure why you’ve taken this sudden interest in my well-being,” I said in as formal a tone as I could project. I patted Drask, and he stilled, rubbing his head against the side of my neck. I was an actor on a stage, and this needed to be my best performance, because I knew that guards not only heard everything, they gossiped. “As I’ve said, I have a headache and would like to lie down in my room.”
Delaine reached out and pinched Reyla’s upper arm hard enough I winced.
Before I could respond, Delaine flitted from the hallway. Good to know she was able to cast this spell. I’d need to be even more wary than I was already.
“Are you alright?” I asked my friend, tugging her sleeve out of the way to examine her arm. A welt was already forming.
Delaine had just made it clear she wouldn’t seek vengeance on me, not when she could easily do so with my friend.
“Reyla? Would you like to come with me?” I asked brightly for the guard’s benefit. Had they seen Delaine hurt Reyla? Maybe not, she’d been standing between them and Reyla.
“No.” Reyla didn’t look my way.
“I’m sure you would.” I took her arm to guide her down the hall. I’d take her to a quiet location where I could talk to her, see if there was anything left of my friend I could somehow bring back from the ether.
Her body stiffened, and I felt something poke into my side.
She held a small knife and was pressing it hard enough against my ribs the tip sliced into my dress. “No.” Her hand trembled, and her gaze remained on the floral-patterned carpet underfoot.
“Alright.” I backed away from her, my hands lifting.
With a jerk of her head, she tucked the knife down by her side and drifted along the hall and around to the staircase .
My heart wrenched up into my throat as I watched her descend to the next level.
Maybe I truly did need to lie down.
I flitted to my room, and Drask left my shoulder, flying over to the perch where he could look out the window.
Vexxion wasn’t inside the suite.
Where are you? I asked, though I wasn’t sure he’d hear me. We’d yet to test the distance we could project our thoughts, though he’d suggested it might not be very far. Yet, he’d added, though he hadn’t clarified what that meant when I pressed him.
I’m with the king. Can’t talk, was all he said, his voice sounding strained.
You’re safe?
Yes, I am.
Since I didn’t want to distract him further, I let it go and changed into my leathers. While I was hanging my gown in the closet, I spied the bag I’d used when I left the fortress and tugged it out, removing my wooden dragon Vexxion had carved. My fingertips tingled on something, and I spread the top of the bag, peering inside to see if I could discover why.
I tugged out Ember’s Shadow , the romance Reyla had been reading before the Claiming. Should I try to get it to her? That might help bring her back to the surface.
My well of power recovered after I’d used it. If a Nullen was severely drained, surely their power refilled as well, though I had no idea how long that might take.
While I wanted to see if I could find her now, I tossed the book onto the table in front of the sofa.
I ran through some of the blocking moves Vexxion had taught me, then moved onto attempts to shift objects from one surface to another, something I was finding much too challenging. After breaking a vase that toppled onto the floor rather than moving from one end of a table to the other, I gave up. Frustration kept roaring through me, and it had nothing to do with breaking and then having to clean up broken pottery.
Feeling trapped, I needed to get out of the castle for a while.
“Do you want to stay here or come with me, Drask?” I asked as I strapped on more blades than I’d need to take on a dreg attack.
He flew over and landed on my shoulder.
I flitted to the entrance of the castle, nearly running into a fae woman dressed in a gown more appropriate for a ball than lunch with the king.
She gripped my arms tight enough to pinch and snarled into my face. “Filthy Nullen.”
A hoarse, guttural sound shot through the air from behind me, and her gaze lifted. As I was about to pull a blade to wave it in her face, terror filled her eyes. With a yelp, she reeled away from me and bolted to my left, rushing along the wide platform, her skirt fisted in her hands and her heels furiously smacking on the smooth stone.
Gripping the hilt of the knife, I cautiously turned, but I didn’t see anyone around. Had they flitted from here?
When I arrived at the castle, I saw two enormous dragons trapped within the tall double doors, and they remained there. But while the one on the left continued to contort itself in a tortured manner, the one on the right had stilled. Its smoldering gaze met mine before it joined the other in a morbid dance.
I stepped closer to the doors.
The dragons twisted harder as if they hoped to wrench themselves free.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I wish I could help.”
If they heard me, they didn’t give any indication.
Feeling like a boot was stomping my heart, I turned and rushed away from the castle, weaving around gaily dressed fae lords and ladies on the bridge who thankfully ignored me.
I reached the aerie and paused in the entrance to allow my eyes to adjust to the darkened interior. Two Nullen stable hands strode down the hall with gear in their hands. Each entered a different stall, and the dragons inside huffed.
“Oh, hey, Tempest,” Will said, coming up behind me, another male at his side. “This is Prenton.” He nudged the other guy with his elbow as I took in the guy’s light brown hair, his blue eyes with lashes I envied, and his average build. Like me, he was dressed in dark leathers, the usual uniform when someone worked with fire-wielding dragons.
Prenton bobbed his head, giving me a weak smile. “You’re new here.”
“I arrived yesterday.” Had it only been one day? I felt like I’d lived a lifetime in between.
“Were you assigned to work in the aerie?” he asked politely.
“I’m a volunteer. I have duties inside the castle, but in my free time, and if it’s alright with all of you, I’ll help out in the aerie. I grew up in one of the fortresses along the border, and I have some skill.” There was no reason to brag .
Will’s gaze slid down my front, returning to my face. He frowned at Drask, who ignored him. “I thought you were one of the special ones.”
“In what way?”
“He means you still have your wits about you,” Prenton said. “You either don’t have much power to drain or you’ve found a way to keep them from taking it.”
“Yeah, the latter,” Will said.
I dragged my gaze away from Prenton’s. “I don’t know much about power.”
“You were dressed in a fancy gown yesterday,” Will said. “I thought that meant you were one of the Nullens serving a lord in his bedchamber.”
“I’m a rider first. A trainer,” I growled.
“You used to be.” Will’s fingertip tapped my neck, and the vines resumed their twisting and snarling. “This says you’re a collared Nullen no different than me and Prenton.”
“Either you want my help in the stables,” I said, “or you don’t.” I turned as if to leave, though I hated to do it. Dragons called to my blood, and there was nothing worse than being cooped up in the castle when I could fill a need here.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to serve on your back?” Will asked.
“Jeez, Will,” Prenton huffed. “Leave the poor girl alone.”
“Why don’t you tell me?” I asked, stomping right up into Will’s face. “Maybe your high lady would prefer you served in her bed.”
“Fuck that,” he said with a laugh, his posture loosening. I wasn’t sure why he’d had his back up, but at least it appeared to have smoothed and settled. “She’s not anyone I’d dare screw with. She might bite off my head.”
“Is sleeping with a lord or lady common for collared Nullens?” Maybe that was why Reyla had snapped. The thought of someone taking her to their room and . . . “A friend arrived here at the same time as me.”
“Who?” Prenton asked.
“Her name’s Reyla.”
“Ah.” His face fell. “I’m sorry.”
So he’d seen her—what was left of her, that is.
“She’s not completely gone,” I said. She’d responded to me today. “I’m going to help her if I can.”
“I wish you all the best,” he said quite sincerely.
“Has anyone like her ever come out of it?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Not as far as I know.”
Damn.
“She was collared by one lord, and he’s decent enough. But can another take her to his bedroom and do whatever he wants with her?”
“Not without the permission of the lord who put the collar around her throat,” Prenton said. “Those are the rules.”
This was reassuring, if I could find comfort in anything related to my friend’s horrifying situation. Zayde would never allow anything like that to happen to Reyla. But . . .
“How many lords actually follow the rules?” I asked, thinking of the king taking energy from Nullens, something forbidden by the treaty.
“No one would dare,” Will said. “There are spells that will be activated if they do. That makes them all behave. ”
“What kind of spells?” I asked.
“I’m not sure, but who’d test something like that to find out?”
Ivenrail, of course. Was a fae king allowed to do things the rest of the lords and ladies were not?
“What if someone grabbed my friend when her lord wasn’t around? Would they listen if she said no?”
Prenton scuffed the toe of his boot on the sandy floor. “That’s not mentioned in the rules.”
“I imagine they’d listen,” Will said, scratching his shoulder. He glanced down the hall, but there wasn’t anyone there. “They don’t treat us wonderfully, but I doubt they’d force someone to do a thing like that.”
There was a reason they were called the wicked fae, and it wasn’t just because they were often snarly.
“She has as much free will as you or me,” Will said. “Well, as much free will as our lords allow.”
“Lady in your case.”
“As I said, she’s good enough. I could’ve done much worse. I owe her.”
“Why?”
“Because she hasn’t turned me into a mindless Nullen.” He glanced around. “Since you’re here to work, why don’t you start grooming dragons at the end? The controller’s dragon is mean, and no one dares enter his pen.”
Glim. “He’ll behave for me.”
“That’s what all the newly collared stable hands say.”
“I have a way with dragons,” I said.
“You’re lucky, then. You’ll find equipment in the room near the main entrance.” He strode around me and down the hall, turning before he left the long building. “Don’t let Glim bite off your head. Oh, and stay out of the first stall.” He gestured to the one opposite the entrance.
“Why?”
“That’s Madrood’s pen. He will bite off your head.”
A warning worth heeding.
“Really,” Prenton said. “Don’t go anywhere near Madrood.”
Chills zipped across my skin. “I won’t.”
To their amazement, I groomed Glim without losing my head or getting scorched, then made my way through the stable, taking care of one dragon after another, skipping Madrood. I paused outside his gate, tempted to crack the upper portion and peek inside, but his snarl rang out, and I backed away with my hands lifted. Pivoting, I started down the hall to work with a more placid dragon.
Drask peered toward Madrood’s pen and tapped his beak on my cheek.
“I’m working with friendly dragons today, buddy,” I said.
I entered Glim’s pen again and cleaned it. Wheeling the cart outside, I dumped the contents into the pile and entered the aerie again to shovel more shit.
It felt good to do something familiar, something physical yet with purpose. While I moved dragon poop and wheeled the cart to where I could dump it, then laid fresh sand in each stall, I practiced calling tiny bits of my magic and sending them to my finger, using the spell Reyla had taught me. While I couldn’t control the fire enough to aim it, and I practiced on the stone walls inside each pen to the confusion of the dragons, I did get better at generating light.
If only I could kill the king with my finger.
Seeing that it was getting close to the time I needed to return to Brenna’s rooms, I looked for Will, finding him cleaning gear in the room full of saddles and harnesses. “I have to leave.”
“Short day, huh?” He didn’t look up from his work.
“I have other duties inside the castle. I worked here for fun.”
Shaking his head, he sent me a wry smile. “The next time you want to have fun, you know where we are.” His attention drifted past me, to the hall, and he frowned.
I turned but saw no one there. Shrugging it off, I entered the hall and started toward Glim’s stall to tell him goodbye. I stumbled over something lying in the sand a few pens down.
Stooping, I studied the forearm-long knife lying in the sand. It was pretty enough, though serviceable, the sharp edge telling me whoever owned it kept it honed for battle. Lifting it and straightening, I tested its weight. Since someone would be upset when they saw they’d lost such a nice blade, I placed it on the table outside the tack room where whoever owned it could find it the next time they visited the aerie.
After visiting Glim, I left, pausing outside the entrance. While I could flit to our suite, Will or Prenton might be watching. I’d implied I didn’t have much power and most knew flitting was a special skill. The fewer who knew I could do it, the better.
Late-day sunshine hit me in the eyes, and I shaded my face, squinting .
Drask fluttered his wings and stretched out his neck.
“You could go hunting if you want,” I said.
Taking off, he flew up over the castle in a jagged line, soaring around as if watching me.
“Be safe,” I whispered. “Come back after you’ve finished. I’ll leave the window open.”
Seeing fae and Nullens walking here and there, I crossed the bridge and rounded the right side of the castle, choosing again not to flit from there to the suite I shared with Vexxion.
I’d had plenty of exercise, but walking might work out the kinks that had developed in my left leg. The muscles networking through my scars ached, and I needed a long soak in a steaming hot tub, something I hoped my “lady’s maid,” Vexxion, could prepare for me. He was welcome to join me. He’d been remiss in his massage duties lately, and I was going to remind him of his promise.
Are you still working with the king? I asked Vexxion.
I am now. I left for a short time, however. I went to the stable, but you were busy, so I didn’t disturb you.
Sorry I missed you. Glim was happy to see me.
I’m sure he was.
You should’ve let me know you were there.
I was detained.
Did something happen? I asked. There was something about his voice . . . You sound tense. Is everything alright?
Today is no different than any other day.
I hated that he had to work with the king. We could sneak into his bedroom and kill him tonight. If Glim flew fast, we could reach your estate by morning. It would be over. We could start a new life together.
Not yet. Soon. I promise.
I can’t wait.
Not wanting to talk for long without his threads around us, I ended the conversation.
I used the back entrance to enter the castle. At least this door didn’t hold trapped, writhing creatures inside.
I slowly made my way down a long hall, aiming for the back staircase I believed would take me to the floor with my suite, pausing to study the sporadic paintings mounted on the wall. Each held one or more creatures, all trapped like the dragons in the front doors and others throughout the castle.
I stifled a shudder, my gaze fixed on the painting where two fluffy blue creatures quivered. They stood among short grass in an idyllic meadow that, on any day, I might find pretty. A rainbow of colorful flowers grew in perfusion around them, a morbid contrast to the poor beasties twisting and contorting against their will.
Some of their fur stuck up along their spines, the rest hanging like hair. They writhed about, seemingly oblivious to me watching, penned within the gold frame. Every squirm and twist of their bodies shouted out their anguish. Why would the king do such a thing?
As they squirmed, the truth clawed at my conscience. They, like me, were anything but free.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I wish I could help you.”
They stilled, and their gazes met mine. When I stretched my fingertip toward them, they scattered, bolting into the woods surrounding the meadow. They remained there, tentatively peering around the big, dark blue trees making up the forest.
“You can hear me,” I said.
I waited, but they didn’t come back out into the meadow.