A War of Three Kings (Dying Lands #2)
1. Aldrin
Chapter 1
Aldrin
I will go mad here, in this cell and isolation. Already I feel my sanity slipping away.
I rake my fingernails down my face to feel something . The walls, ceiling and floor are all the same rough gray stone that seems to close in on me, inching closer until I cannot breathe.
My only saving grace is the narrow, barred window high on the wall. It is my tether to reality, with the stars visible at night and a sunbeam that moves across the wall as the day passes.
Yesterday, I had the strength to pull myself up to the window, to catch a glimpse outside. All I could see was blue sky. It told me nothing of where I am.
A deep weakness rolls through me, and my head spins so badly that I have hardly left this hard pallet all day. I watch the shadows move as I brood on every turn of events that led me here. At least they have removed the damned shackles from my wrists, seeing me for the pitiful shell of a man that I am.
Intense hunger curls in my stomach. It is like a mad beast fighting within me, ripping my guts apart with sharp claws. Nausea threatens to empty my stomach of what little there is inside of it, bile rising in my throat.
Each day they leave me a single piece of bread so stale it takes a long time for my teeth to work through it. Each day except today.
The small pitcher of water they offer always comes with the bitter tang of poison in it. At first, I tried to refuse the drugged water, knowing it would suppress my power, but my thirst grew. It became unbearable as my throat dried out so badly I had coughing fits, and my mouth felt like it had been abraded with sand.
My eyelids become so heavy that I drift away to sleep, the intoxicating fingers of oblivion tugging at my consciousness. I am too tired to fight it.
A burst of ice-cold water falls upon me as though a bucket has been tipped over my head. It keeps cascading down until I gasp awake and rear up, sputtering as it catches in my windpipe.
The room moves wildly around me, but I pin my back to the wall. I am shaking uncontrollably from the cold drenching of my clothes and the shock of awakening, but I am not surprised.
They will not let me sleep.
For days, every time I’ve passed out, I have been awoken in the same manner.
I suck the water from my dripping sleeves and ignore the sourness from my dirty clothes. It is not enough to even take the edge off my thirst, but it is something. Magic evaporates the water unnaturally fast, so I only taste a few drops.
I glance at the five scratches etched into the wall opposite me. I have been here for five days. It feels like a month. A year. An eternity.
A small panel slides open at the base of the heavy door, and a single mug is pushed through. I stare at it as though it is a viper. My parched throat convulses at the sight of water slopping down its sides, but my stomach rolls and twists with the knowledge of the poison within.
A war rages within me. My fingers twitch to reach out for that mug. I stare at it unblinkingly. All at once my resolve shatters, and I leap off the pallet like a wild animal and fall upon the mug. I pick it up carefully, as I would a newborn babe, and without losing a drop, I bring it to my cracked lips.
I gulp it all down. It is the sweetest nectar. The water coats my mouth, my throat, and for a heartbeat they don’t ache or burn.
I take careful steps toward the wall and etch another line into it with the mug. Air magic pools around me, and the vessel that I could use as a weapon is dragged from my hands and pulled back through the gap in the door.
That small volley of air is enough to have me staggering backward. My heels hit the pallet and I collapse onto it. The poison burns in my stomach like the strongest of whiskeys. It shoots through my veins, a fire that reaches the tips of my limbs and blocks my power.
A thick blackness rolls around me. They have overdosed me this time. I know this, but I can’t find the energy to care.
I fall into unconsciousness.
It feels like I am immediately ripped from a dreamless sleep as freezing water drenches me completely, running down my body and off the bed like a waterfall, pooling on the ground around my feet.
The moment I open my eyes, the cascade overhead cuts off and the water evaporates before I can fall to my knees and drink off the ground.
Laughter gurgles out of me at the irony of such desperate thirst when there is constantly so much water around me. My entire chest heaves as the sound hacks out of me. The hysterics continue until I can no longer remember what is so funny. Then I want to cry.
“You must be enjoying your stay here, Aldrin, if you find something so amusing,” a feminine voice rings out. I know who that hard tone belongs to, but I don’t have the presence of mind to place it.
I squint at the door as my vision doubles. A reedy woman is standing there, bathed in light like a white halo. This must be a hallucination. I turn away from the sight that burns my eyes, closing them for just a moment.
“Look at me, you useless fae!”
I definitely know that voice. It isn’t enough to coax me from my stupor. Fatigue weighs heavily on me and threatens to drag me down. I can’t let it do that, but for the life of me, I can’t remember why.
“You will cooperate with me, Aldrin, if you ever want to see my granddaughter again.”
I whip my head back, blinking, and finally recognize the High Priestess. The door is shut behind her. It is just the two of us in this room. She has a thick air shield around her as though she is approaching some wild, vicious beast.
I guess that is what I am to her.
I cringe at the sight of that shield. I relied so heavily on my own within the doorway of the temple, when Keira and I confronted the might of her father and his army. My people threaded their magic into it as well, reinforcing it, but as her father revealed my secret and she backed away from me with betrayal painting her face, I loosened my grip on it.
That was all he needed to rip my shield apart. A few cracks.
I underestimated the power and ruthlessness of the Lord Protector, and I will never make that mistake again. What I would like to know is how a man in this realm, parading as a human, has magic more powerful than my own.
“What do you want from me, Naomi?” I croak the words out, unused to talking. I lean my head against the wall, but I keep my eyes trained on her.
“What do I want from you?” She screeches. “ What do I want from you? How about you tell me why you had the audacity to hunt my granddaughter into this land? You broke the laws of both realms! She told you she was leaving you for another man, but you came anyway. Do you think you own her? That you have a right to her body and life, just because she shared your bed for a little while?”
The High Priestess’ nostrils flare wide and her bony shoulders are whipcord tight, her fists clenched as though she would claw my eyes out.
I laugh at the mental image. I must be delirious. “We did a lot more than share a bed.”
On cue, she bristles, her dark eyebrows scrunching tight and her mane of white hair flowing around her. “Understand this, Aldrin. You are at our mercy. No one is coming to save you, not even my granddaughter, so you can stop your bravado. Cooperate with us, and maybe you can see Keira, if she even wants to lay eyes on you again.”
“Or you can fucking let me go before I tear this place apart. Stop poisoning me and see what happens. I could destroy you all without lifting a hand,” I growl, but my throat is too dry and my voice too gravelly for it to have the right affect.
“And why would we do a thing like that? No, we like you exactly where we have you. My son has questions for you, and you will do well to answer them, but we must get one thing straight.” She says.
For a heartbeat, a hint of desperation flashes within her eyes, then disappears.
“You will not reveal to him or any other who hasn’t taken the pilgrimage the truth of our magical pregnancies. Do not even allude to the fact that those offspring have a fae parent, especially not where Caitlin is concerned. If you do, I will whisk Keira away to the far reaches of the kingdom and you will never see her again.”
My throat closes up at the thought, and panic speeds my heart. I desperately need to see Keira, to touch her and hope she will listen to me, but I am so scared of what I will find in her eyes the next time I do.
“You should understand one thing, Naomi. I will find Keira, wherever you take her.” I lean forward over my knees, my lips pulling back in a snarl. “You may hold me now, but you won’t keep my magic restrained forever. The only way I will leave this realm is if I hear the command from her mouth. Save us all the trouble and let me speak with her.”
“I want your oath that you won’t reveal the secrets of the pilgrimage,” she snaps.
I throw my head back and laugh, the sound deep, throaty and unhinged. “Why in all the darkest realm would I give away my last bargaining chip? You must think me stupid.”
She stares at me, eyes narrowing as the cogs turn in her head, but a knock comes on the door.
A guard pops his head into the room and Naomi shoots him a dark look. “High Priestess…er…the Lord Protector is demanding to see the captive now. He is quite…impatient.”
Naomi turns back to me. “Choose your next move carefully, Aldrin.”
I give her a predator’s grin and revel in the way the color drains from her face.
Multiple guards pour into the room. Two pull me from the bed and half carry me under the shoulders, their fingers digging painfully into my arms. They reek of sweat. These humans are afraid of me, despite my weakened condition.
The world tilts around me as the blood rushes from my head, but I keep my footing.
The corridor is narrow, cast in dim light with very few fire orbs hugging the ceiling. We pass door after door, but I cannot hear anything beyond them. The wards rippling over each of them are so heavy that my people could be screaming in their cells and I wouldn’t know it.
My muscles ripple with the need to break away from these guards and tear open the doors. To free my people. To see that they are still alive. I owe it to them as their king, their leader and their friend. But I can’t walk without the guards’ support, much less fight them off. I grind my teeth as a fire of rage builds within me.
I am brought to a large room and immediately hit by a wall of smoky heat from a crackling fireplace and the mouth-watering scents of a banquet.
The extent of the chill that has seeped into my bones becomes evident as my flesh tingles painfully. Starvation rears its ugly head, making my stomach cramp.
The bright light hurts my eyes and I blink several times as I am deposited into a chair, half falling into it. Immediately, thick bands of air magic wrap around my arms, torso and legs, binding me to the chair.
“Aldrin. You look like shit.”
My eyes seek the source of that brassy rumble, finding Keira’s father seated opposite me.
Edmund’s red-gold hair is neatly combed around his face, reaching his chin. It looks so much like Keira’s, with every shade of red, orange and gold present within it. His sculpted beard is freshly trimmed and his cheeks are ruddy above it, but it is those large eyes that captivate me. Emerald green, crinkling with false humor.
I don’t know what game he is playing, but ice-cold claws rake down my back.
I glance frantically around the room for weapons of torture, straps and hot pokers, pliers and small knives, but find none. There is nothing except the desk between us spread out with a feast, a few armchairs, and maps all over the walls. This is a study of sorts.
“I have you to thank for the way I look,” I say.
“My hospitality could be worse.” He shrugs. “By the laws of these lands, you should be dead by now.”
“And my people? Has your hospitality been extended to them?” Cold sweat drips down my back. All this time, I have been terrified of the answer.
Edmund tsks. “I’ll be asking the questions.”
“Damn it, Edmund! Tell me what you have done with them!” I yell, struggling to break free of the bonds.
He taps a finger on the desk while he thinks. “Your people are here…in varying conditions.”
Intense relief floods me. It is the smallest mercy, knowing they live. It is chased by bitter dread that explodes into the fire of fury when his words fully register. “What do you mean by varying conditions ? What have you done to them?”
Edmund doesn’t look at me. He picks up a plate and piles it with buttery potatoes and peas, roast lamb that drips juices, carrots glistening with honey. Edmund passes the plate to his mother, who must have entered the room behind me, then prepares another for himself.
“ANSWER ME!” I scream. “What have you done to my people?”
“Patience, Aldrin. There is plenty of time to speak, but you will need your manners if you want any answers from me.” Edmund pops a potato in his mouth.
I grind my teeth. If he wants to play games, I can play too.
I can’t stop staring at all that food spread out before me. The rich scents waft to me, savory and sweet, with hints of herbs and garlic. Pain twists my stomach as it rumbles loudly. It’s been more than a day since I’ve had anything to eat, and I ate next to nothing in the days before that.
Edmund’s gaze remains locked on me as he pours wine from a jug, and my eyes dip down to the arc of beautiful crimson liquid that taunts my parched throat.
He takes a slow mouthful of meat, and a hint of a smile curls his lips. “You look like a starving man, Aldrin. Why don’t you have a bite?”
Edmund takes the last plate, puts a sliver of meat on it and places it before me, then releases the magic holding my arms. I contemplate throwing the dish at his head for a long moment, but I need answers more than violence right now.
My hand darts out with lightning speed and the morsel is in my mouth before I can stop myself. Flavors burst upon my tongue as the fat drips down my throat.
Edmund raises an eyebrow at me. He silently puts another tiny portion of food onto the plate and puts it down just outside of my reach. It calls to me.
“Answer my questions and you can eat more. Impress me, and perhaps I’ll give you wine as well.” He smiles, but there’s no warmth in it.
“I want to speak with Keira.” My hands ball into fists. “I want to see her.”
“There is no way you will see my daughter!” Edmund growls, his lips pulled back from his teeth. “Now answer my questions. Why did you come to these lands with a band of warriors?”
My desperate actions look bad, but I had to come for Keira. I had no choice. Not when she was wailing for me across worlds with such need.
“Keira called me here.” The honest words slip from me. I am too tired to think straight.
“LIAR!” the High Priestess yells beside her son.
Edmund places a hand on her arm. “Let’s hear what he has to say first.”
“I traveled to this realm to speak with her, that is all,” I bite out. “We were having a lovely conversation before you arrived and shot up my people. Don’t fucking forget, Edmund, that you were the one who attacked first. That we came here peacefully.” I grip the armrests of my chair so tightly that the wood splinters beneath my grasp.
“You came here for a conversation? Now, that doesn’t sound likely, does it, Mother?” Edmund takes a long draw of his wine, then pours more, topping up both their cups. I know he does it to taunt me. “I will ask you again. Why did you come to these lands with a band of warriors?”
“Did I stutter, Edmund? Ask me a thousand times. The truth isn’t going to change,” I bark out. “I brought my personal guard because this realm isn’t welcoming of my kind.”
Edmund stands and leans over the table, eyes narrowing. “You traveled here to take Keira as your consort, by whatever means possible. To drag her back to your lands. Were you planning to kidnap other women? Are there more of you coming?”
“I would not force Keira to do a damned thing.” I lean as far forward as the bindings of air magic around my torso allow, my voice low and deadly. “She wanted me to?—”
Edmund slams his fist on the table and the plates rattle. “Damn it, Aldrin! This is my daughter you are speaking of. These are my women I need to protect. Tell me when the rest of you will arrive.”
“There are no other fae crossing over!”
We glare at each other for a long time. Pent-up energy courses through me with nowhere to go, and I wonder how much Keira would hate me if I killed her father. I could do it with a whisper of magic if I had it, or if an ounce of my physical strength returned and I got him off guard. I can be a very resourceful man.
Edmund sits down and scowls at me. Maybe he is having the exact same thoughts. He takes that steaming plate of food and pushes it just into my reach, but as I try to grab it, he pulls it back an inch. “You can have all of this food”—his other hand indicates the feast—“if you just answer my questions truthfully.”
“By the Soul Ripper, Edmund,” I curse.
“He is clearly not hungry enough,” Naomi quips. “Maybe starve him some more.”
“What has Keira said?” I snap. I need to know what she is thinking.
“Keira doesn’t want to speak of you.” Naomi flicks her fingers in a dismissive gesture. “She has cast you from her mind, Aldrin, because she knows you are nothing more than a predator, like all high fae.”
I flinch at those words. They cut deep, twisting a knife in my heart. “No,” I whisper. “No, she couldn’t possibly. Not after everything.”
Both sets of eyes narrow on me, then they share a dark look.
Naomi’s long nails tap the desk with agitation. Pure panic flashes within her eyes and disappears so quickly, I wonder if I imagined it. “What spell do you have over Keira?” she demands. “How are you clouding her judgment and controlling her?”
I smirk. So Keira does not hate me completely. I gaze from mother to son. “Do you really not know? Can you not see it?” They stare at me, frowns deepening. “I hold the oldest, most powerful and most common enchantment over her. She is in love with me, and I with her. There is no magic or spells between us, other than the blood oath I pledged to her, but that holds me at her mercy.”
Did Keira allow me to be captured, or did she fight? If she cares for me, why hasn’t she hasn’t come for me?
“You think a lot of yourself, fae.” Edmund’s air bands constrict painfully around my chest and legs as his eyes bore into mine.
“I think our girl likes the idea of you, especially with the pretty package you come in, but love? I don’t think so.” The High Priestess laughs mockingly. It sounds forced.
“You are the ones who think I have enchanted her.” I put my arms behind my head as casually as I can, without hinting at the pain the movement brings. Behind my false bravado, I am desperate for them to see the truth.
I am a lovesick fae who will follow Keira to the end of the universe, even if it means my destruction, and I am absolutely harmless to them.
Edmund’s lips press into a thin line. “Tell me about this oath you made to her.”
I exhale slowly. “She didn’t trust me when we first met, even though I tended to her wounds, gave her food and shelter, and offered to help her find her sister, because your people filled her head with mistruths and old prejudices. I made a blood oath that I would never hold her against her will. I cannot kidnap her, bind her or imprison her.”
A heavy silence falls over the room.
“Ask Keira yourself,” I say. “If you still believe a word she says.”
“So, you need to use emotional manipulation and lies to lure her back,” Naomi spits at me, and my scowl deepens. This woman twists everything I say. She turns to the Lord Protector. “We can work with that. It won’t be too hard to lift the veil from her eyes.”
“Why is Keira not here, having this pleasant discussion with us? She has a right to know what you are doing. How you are keeping me.” My tone betrays my desperation.
Naomi cocks her head to the side with false pity. “She doesn’t want to see you, Aldrin. If there is any small part of her that still wants you, we will rip it out. She deserves so much better than a high fae.”
“Like being sold off to the worthless prince who tried to strangle her, all to better the fortunes of your family?” I growl, pulling viciously at my bindings.
Edmund’s expression shutters and I know I have cut deep. A sharp spike of satisfaction fills me.
He points a finger at me. “You will die here before you lay eyes on my daughter again. Understand that, Aldrin. There are no lengths I won’t go to if it means I can protect her.”
I believe it. A deep, primal part of me knows it to be the truth. The best I can do is to get my people out.
I sway in my seat as heavy fatigue falls on me like a suffocating blanket. The lack of sleep and food dulls my thoughts and for a moment, it is all too much. The headache that has been my constant companion grows until there is nothing else.
I will drown in the currents of these games. They will turn Keira against me. They will reframe the beautiful tenderness and passion we shared into an affair of abuse, and her thoughts will sour when they land on the short time we spent together.
Hopelessness floods through me, deeper than the despair I felt during my isolation. But no matter the odds against me, I will always fight for Keira.
Edmund slides the plate of food forward an inch, allowing me to take it. My numb fingers clumsily grab at the relative delicacies: two thin slivers of meat, a single baby potato, a carrot and three peas. I gulp it down before he can whisk it away, but the portion is just enough to whet my appetite, to make me remember just how hungry I am.
“Do you see how we take care of you when you cooperate?” Edmund reclines in his seat, sipping his wine. His words sound like they come from a great distance. “Think on it in your isolation. I hope next time you are more forthcoming.”
I slam the plate back down on the table and break it in two. “For the love of the gods, Edmund?—”
Naomi cuts me off. “Otherwise we’ll have to resort to crueler methods.”
“I want to know about my people. Are they being kept in this prison? Are you torturing them with deprivation as well? Have you questioned them?” I grip a shard of pottery so tightly in my fist it draws blood, pointing it at Edmund threateningly. “TELL ME!”
Thick bands of air wrap around my arms, pinning them to my sides, then slowly pry open my fingers to remove the makeshift weapon. Sweat drips down Edmund’s face with the precise work.
“So many questions, Aldrin, when you refuse to answer ours.” Naomi tsks, then calls for the guards.
I fight them as they pull me out of my seat, kicking one in the groin, managing to break free of a bind and elbowing another in the jaw. “EDMUND!” I roar as I am hauled to my feet. “Have you hurt my people?”
He doesn’t answer as I am dragged from the room by multiple soldiers and back down the corridor, stumbling and tripping over my own feet as the last of my energy reserves flees me.
We pass through the layers of wards crisscrossing the doorway of my cell, then the guards dump me unceremoniously on the stone floor. I land on my knees, the shock of the impact running up my legs, quickly followed by searing pain. The door slams shut behind me.
Poisoned, starved, denied sleep for days, heartbroken—not to mention the sickly fear curdling within my stomach for my band of warriors…it is almost enough to break a man, and they haven’t lifted a hand to me, or sliced a physical wound. Not yet.
I scream and scream and scream.
I pour all my fury, agony, grief and despair into that animalistic roar. I beat my fists on the ground.
None of it matters. No one can hear me.