37. Tempest
37
TEMPEST
I was tossed back into my body.
My teeth chattered. I snaked my arms around my waist and stared around wildly, barely seeing Ivenrail’s bedroom. My mind was locked in that moment.
Brenna.
Vexxion.
With a shake of my head, I shook off the dream. Everything here appeared the same, but I felt completely different.
“I don’t want any more gifts,” I snarled. “I don’t want any more bones. I don’t want any more visions.”
Did Vexxion know? He must.
“Three,” Triisa said. “Would you deny us the right to pay you back for your favor?”
Vexxion was Brenna’s fated mate? I hadn’t seen a mate mark on his wrist, but it wasn’t like I’d studied that area. I’d focused on his mouth. His scars that I traced with my fingertips to his huffed joy. Other delectable areas I was eager to lick.
“ Favor ?” I pivoted away from the gruesome box of bone visions, facing Triisa. “This is no payment. It’s torture.”
“You must see.”
Though gently, my body was made to face the box once more.
“Take the second gift,” she said. “The third will be presented to you when the time is right.”
“Gifts shouldn’t hurt the receiver.” Despair clawed at my heart with relentless, icy fingers.
“These trinkets may appear trifling, but their true value will be revealed over time.”
“Bones aren’t trinkets.” Chills bound their arms around me and squeezed to the point I couldn’t breathe.
Did Vexxion know?
Was he going to love Brenna? That was what happened with fated mates, right? They’d meet, and he’d know.
The mark on Brenna’s wrist. She said it was new. She thought— My shrill laugh burst out. She thought it was pressed into her skin from her position during sleep.
Vexxion would soon adore her. He’d treasure her, cherish her forever. And she was destined to marry his wretched father.
“You’ve seen something vital,” Triisa said. “What you do with it remains in your hands alone.”
“You know what I saw.”
She tilted her head, and her gaze focused past me, though a glance over my shoulder showed no one was there. “So many paths you might start down only to turn around and take another. Which is best and which will you choose?”
“Stop talking like that and tell me what to do.”
“Your future belongs to you alone. Only you should direct it. Fate’s reins await your grasp.”
“I’m inside the castle to do one thing.”
“Whether you accomplish this goal remains to be seen.”
I studied her exquisite face shimmering with a veil of magic. “What do you know?”
“More than you’d like, but never fear. We’re friends, and I won’t share your secrets.”
“What about your sisters?” I asked.
“They’re slippery, but I’ll speak with them. For now, your goal matches theirs.”
“For now? How could that change? You three didn’t enjoy being pinned inside that painting, did you?”
“Would you?”
“I would not.” My fingers twitched, seeking an anchor I would not find inside this room—or within the fae realm, for that matter.
“Then make sure you dance for him if he tells you to do so,” she said.
“Varissa,” someone called out from the other room.
I froze, my panic-stricken gaze meeting Triisa’s. Before I could flit, she placed her fingertip on my leg. It locked me where I was, inside the king’s bedroom where I’d soon be discovered.
“Let me go,” I hissed.
Her stern gaze met mine. “Wait. ”
“Where’s Varissa?” the person asked again. “The high advisor wants to speak with her immediately in the blue sitting room.”
“She’s in the library. Come, I’ll take you to her.” The outer door slammed closed.
Silence echoed around us, and my heartrate notched down a few levels.
“I need to leave,” I said. “Don’t hold me here.”
“We have time. You’re safe enough for now.” Triisa turned back to the box. “Take a second bone. Absorb the vision. I promise, it won’t harm you.”
Not physically, but I was still reeling from the first.
“Hurry,” she said.
“I thought I had time.”
“Each person’s time bends differently, and one stretched moment could be another’s lifetime.”
Enough of her odd statements. Which bone? I closed my eyes and let the fates decide, grabbing the first I touched.
Again, I was yanked from the room and into . . . somewhere.
I stood inside a dark cave with only the flicker of light ahead.
I knew this passage. I’d walked down it during the last raid. Within the cave ahead, I’d spoken with the Liege before I killed him. I sensed I would not be able to leave this moment until I’d seen why I was brought here—the gift or curse of the bone I’d selected.
Whose body was I inside now? I reached out with magic but sensed . . . nothing .
I brought you here. The voice came from behind me, but when I spun, I saw no one.
Who is this?
Proceed. See.
A woman’s voice? I couldn’t tell, but it may not matter. What I had to see was the most important thing.
I hated being back in this cave. My stomach churned as old fear bubbled up like a venomous stew stirred by the memory of Kinart’s death. Eyes stinging, I crept forward, things rattling beneath my feet. If I could hear the sounds, could others?
How deeply was I entrenched in this dream? If I died here, would I ever find my way back?
I had to trust Triisa was guiding this, as much as I dared trust a pixie. She said it was important I see whatever was being offered. To think I cringed from it. I was a warrior. A dragon trainer and rider, one of the best. I’d killed more dregs than I could count, and one day, I expected to ride again, slaying more.
I’d eliminated each Liege I came across. Three was nothing to scoff at. Would Ivenrail’s minions and henchmen fall when he did or rally around someone new? I suspected the high advisor would delight in stepping into the void.
“I don’t like that you called me here,” someone barked from the small cave ahead.
I slowed my pace but kept moving forward. While I could hear and maybe that was all I needed to do while I was here, I wanted to know who was speaking.
“You take too much. Ask too much,” another person said. “You don’t give enough to us.”
I’d heard that voice before—the Liege I’d killed in the cave. Since he was dead, this must’ve taken place before that time. That made me very eager to see who he was speaking with, though I had my suspicions. They were confirmed when I reached the end of the passage and leaned against the wall.
Ivenrail stood in the cave beside the same big, chunky candle, fuming as he glared at the Liege. From here, I could see them both clearly, though I doubted they could view me. I was a spirit, correct? An observer from the future. Neither would know I was here.
That didn’t mean I dared step out and walk among them.
“You don’t control this,” Ivenrail fumed. “I do.” He swung out at the Liege with his fist.
The Liege’s hand latched onto Ivenrail’s, stopping his blow before it could make impact. “I control many things. The number of dregs. The number of Nullens taken. How many of those you are allowed to drain. The Lieges who came before me and those who will follow control the balance of it all. You are greedy. You were only supposed to touch those collared.”
He’d only recently started taking power from the uncollared? That must be about the time when Vexxion discovered he could feed his own power to the king through the Nullen.
“I need all the power, not just that puny bit.”
A scoff erupted from beneath the Liege’s long, dingy cloak. As always, I couldn’t see his face or form, but I’d viewed this one already. Ripped his bone coin away from his wrist.
Ivenrail wore a simple green tunic and nondescript black pants and boots. No crown on his head. No jewelry I could see from here. Had he flitted here or . . .
Why dress to avoid drawing attention if he could flit from his throne room to this cave, then back when his conversation was finished?
A sound from the opposite side of the hall snagged on my consciousness, the flutter of wings. Madrood waited.
Ivenrail had flown all the way across Nullen territory to speak with a Liege either by choice or because he couldn’t flit for whatever reason.
I leaned against the wall that I could surprisingly feel. The hardness. The coldness of it sinking through my clothing and flesh, its tendrils of dread seeking my bones.
“You crave it when you should find a way to resist,” the Liege said. “I told you from the start. Small sips only, enough to give you a bit of extra and make you feel giddy. Never more than that. This is how it has always been and the way it should always be.”
“With this power, I can conquer the world.”
“A paltry wish. You’re one of many. When you’re gone, others will try to do the same. None will succeed. If you don’t rein in your craving, I will do it for you.”
“Do not threaten me.” A glare like that directed at me would’ve shocked me to my core. “No one is untouchable.”
“Some used to be. Like with your father, you underestimate all of us. At least there’s a chance that others . . .”
Ivenrail’s gaze narrowed on the Liege. “Do you know where she is?”
“Who do you speak of?” The conniving twist of the Liege’s voice cut through me like a blade.
“Tell me.”
“I share nothing without purpose. ”
Ivenrail growled. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll see. It’s different this time. You haven’t seen how I plan to accomplish my plan.” Ivenrail swept his arm out and a vision appeared in the room with them. Dregs marched along the ground, stomping toward villages where Nullens cringed and screamed. Some valiantly took up arms and rushed toward the dregs, determination dripping from their pores and fear blazing on their faces. They’d fight hard and while some would survive, many would be taken or killed.
Soon, riders would appear in the skies, drilling toward the dregs, swiping through them with swords, their dragons shooting fire.
“I’ve been experimenting,” the king said, his nose twisting in a snit. “Not sucking down all that power just for myself. I’ve fed it to others.”
What did he mean by that?
The Liege grunted, clearly unconvinced.
“Soon, I’ll perfect this, and then you too shall benefit from my magic.”
“This remains to be seen.” The Liege sounded bored, ready to dismiss Ivenrail. How did he dare? Oh, yes. He felt he was in control of this, as if he’d collared the king and would soon be granted access.
The scene continued to unfold, and I silently cheered on the riders and dragons who decimated the dregs. The Lieges who’d come with the dregs were already on the run.
This Liege snarled and turned from the scene in disgust.
Ivenrail’s hand snapped within the folds of the Liege’s hood, latching onto the creature’s chin and forcing his head around to make him watch what might come next. “You’ll miss the best part.”
I’d seen this so many times, I’d lost count. Why was this particular battle important to Ivenrail?
And then I knew why I was called here, why I was watching this unfold before my eyes. Why he was forcing the Liege to observe this battle that must be from my future, a future where this Liege was already dead by my hand. When I killed him, the Liege knew what Ivenrail would do.
So many paths. Which would lead in this direction?
“I’m close to perfecting a new toy for you,” Ivenrail said slyly. “I used some of the power you’re reluctant to share, but perhaps this will make you reconsider your generosity in the future.”
Dragons and riders continued to swoop through the sky. They plunged across the dregs, the riders swiping down the beasts with their swords and the dragons breathing fire while the villagers attacked the dregs on foot.
It was a rout. Soon, the dregs would be dead and the Lieges either lying on the ground or fleeing back across the border to regroup.
Then something new appeared in the sky.
Pointing, the Liege chittered but I sensed it was with dismay, not excitement, because . . .
. . . this was shocking.
Terrifying.
Even the Liege must be horrified about this potential future. Was this why he’d set me on this path ?
Once this was unleashed, it would change the course of every battle from now on.
There’s still time.
Tell me what to do, I gasped out.
Wield the blade.
Raw desperation gouged its way through me. I need more information than that. Help me.
Silence spread its tendrils around me, and I jolted when Ivenrail tipped back his head and cackled. His eyes gleamed with feral joy.
Thousands of winged dregs flung themselves from the sky, toppling riders from dragons, slicing through the mighty beasts before swooping down to snatch up women, men, and children alike. They flew to new, open-top cages and dropped the Nullens inside.
With winged dregs, Ivenrail was going to invade the Nullen realm and capture and drain every single living person. He was incredibly powerful. How could anyone stop him?
I dropped to my knees and smacked my palms against my face. Who cared if they heard me now? My shriek of dismay bellowed out, echoing around me.
With a jolt, I was yanked backward. I didn’t hit the wall. No, I was sucked into . . . nothing and spit out on the other side.
As I traveled, I swore I heard Drask’s caw.
I landed hard on the floor of the suite I shared with Vexxion and let myself lay there, my cheek pressed against the cool tile, my palms splayed wide open, my fingers twitching.
Drask flew off his perch and landed beside my face. He leaned over and cocked his head this way and that, studying me, before he pranced around and flew up to perch on the bedrail.
I panted as if I’d trained for hours. Shivers kept clenching my spine and shaking me. My heart thundered, terror rooting deeper with each thudding beat.
Rising, I stumbled toward the bathing area, where I turned on the water to a steaming gush. I peeled off my leathers and tossed them into the basket. When the tub was full, I sunk down in the water, drawing my legs up to wrap my arms around them. My chin found its place on my knees.
What’s wrong? Vexxion asked.
I stilled myself as best I could, locking down my emotions. Locking down my brain and my heart and my memories and my . . . everything. Nothing. I tripped. Fell on my knees. They’re sore.
Be careful.
I couldn’t tell if he believed me or not. The connection didn’t allow for anything like that. But he must’ve been busy because he didn’t flit to me. For once, I was alright with that.
I had too much to absorb. Too much to process. And a fate-load of crap to deal with before I saw him again.
I flashed through the idea of Vexxion and Brenna being fated mates, but while the thought of such a thing was shredding something deep inside me, it had been shoved aside by an even greater, more devastating horror.
The dregs would soon have wings, and they would attack. They would roar across the villages. All the riders and dragons in the fortresses combined wouldn’t be able to hold them back. They’d descend on the closest village. Then the next. Marching and flying onward until they reached the eastern border, where they’d stop.
Oh, yes, they would stop. Because the Lieges might control the dregs, but Ivenrail controlled the Lieges—his devoted minions.
My stomach kept knotting and releasing. Over and over at a furious pace until I scrambled out of the tub and over to the toilet. I heaved up my guts and then some, retching until there was nothing left inside. Still, my belly wanted to give.
Such torturous gifts.
Quivering with spent fear, I cleaned my mouth and slid back into the tub, where I stretched out and tipped my head back against the smooth surround, closing my eyes.
Drask joined me, cute little guy that he was. He pecked my cheek and there was something so normal and comforting about it that my tears started flowing. My sobs followed.
I cried for myself.
For the mess I’d discovered about Vexxion and Brenna.
And for the Nullens who faced a certain death with almost no means of defense.