Chapter 50 Res
Reunions
Firm hands gripped my shoulders and shook me, and it wasn’t the first time.
Not even the second. I was cold, and the air was heavy.
No, dank. They shook me again, then poured water on my face.
Stars, I hated when they did that—how the wetness ran down my neck and soaked past my leathers and into my shirt.
“Stop,” I croaked, then winced, the single word cracking the pain in my head wide open.
“Come on, Spark, I need you to wake up,” the voice coaxed.
Spark. Why was that word so familiar? His voice…
“Ar—” I tried to swallow so I could speak, but my mouth was so dry that I almost choked on my tongue.
“You’re okay,” the voice—Artton’s voice—soothed.
Gods, I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to be him or not. If he was with me, then he was alive—but captured. If it was a dream, then it was possible I’d wake to a world where he no longer existed.
Strong arms propped me up, and my body sank against his. Something cold was pressed against my lips. “I need you to drink.” He tipped it against my lips, and fresh, cool liquid filled my mouth faster than I could swallow, making me cough it up all over myself.
“Sorry,” he whispered, then tried again more slowly.
The cool water was as welcomed as it was painful, burning my throat until I finally felt sweet relief and began drinking in earnest. “Whoa. Easy there,” he said, and a tiny moan left me when he pulled away.
Exhausted from the small effort, my head lulled to the side, the rhythmic cadence of his heartbeat beneath the thin fabric of his shirt was soothing.
I sat there resting against a firm, warm body, legs on either side of me on the hard ground.
Lifting my left hand, I splayed my palm across his chest. “Is it really you?” I whispered.
Gentle fingers pressed under my chin, tilting it up. “Why don’t you open your eyes and see for yourself?”
I wanted to. Oh gods did I want to. But what if I opened them and found myself in a reality where he no longer existed?
“It’s okay,” he said as if understanding my hesitation. “I’m here. I promise.”
Slowly, I peeled my eyes open, and tears filled them as Artton’s cerulean gaze met mine. Fisting the soft fabric of his shirt, I nestled my head into his chest, a relieved sob escaping me.
“Shh,” he soothed. “We’re okay.”
Sniffling, I wiped away the tears and lifted my head. “We?”
The corner of his mouth ticked up before he lifted his chin, and my focus followed where he’d pointed. “Sidrick!” I yelped and lunged forward, nearly falling on my face. Artton’s strong hands steadied me enough that I caught my balance before crawling a few steps along the cold, hard ground.
“Hey Nyleeria,” he managed, his voice as weak as the forced smile.
Kneeling, I scanned for new injuries, and while I didn’t see any, I noted his ashen complexion and deep purple circles under his eyes. I whipped my head to Artton, my heart suddenly pumping a million beats a minute. “Kaelun? Tarrin?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Not here.”
“Not here. But alive?” I asked, glancing between the two.
Something touched me, and I pulled away only to realize it was Sidrick reaching for my hand. Swallowing, I hesitated for a beat before allowing him to take it. “They’re alive. I can feel it.”
“But,” I said, voice thick, “that’s Kaelun’s unara, not yours.”
He squeezed my hand, and my heart ached at how weak he was. “There’s magic of the Mother and the stars, but love binds me to my brother more than any unara. Do you hear me?”
Fresh tears prickled my eyes. “They’re alive, then.” And while I knew there was a very real possibility we were lying to each other, it was a lie I willingly clung to.
Pulling my hand back, I accepted Artton’s help to my feet.
We were in some sort of underground cave.
It was uncomfortably cold and damp, but more uncomfortable was the nagging sensation of familiarity.
The walls were smooth—perfectly so—with five equidistant walls, and where a sixth wall should be, there were bars and a door.
Following the geometric lines where the walls met the ceiling, I gasped, recognizing the crisscross pattern above me.
The one I’d idly traced with my eyes as I lay on the tiled floor back in Thaddeus’ palace.
“What is it?” Artton asked, his head tilting up to look at the ceiling with me.
“This room,” I said, shifting my focus to him. “It’s an exact replica of Thaddeus’ training room. His magic training room. It…” I searched for the words to describe what it did and was coming up short given he’d never offered me a real explanation on how it works.
“Siphons powers,” Artton offered.
My brows furrowed, and I shook my head. “No. But it can absorb excess.”
“No, Spark, I’m telling you that it siphons powers—not asking if it does.”
“What?”
“Yeah, it’s why I’m tapped and Sidrick isn’t healing properly. Did you think I’d idly wait to see what happens instead of getting the fuck outta here?”
I searched for the threads of magic. The relief that they were there was quickly squashed by how faint they were.
I could barely see them, let alone grasp them, and attempting to conjure was like trying to capture water with an open palm.
Realizing it was futile, I reached for the spark instead, and while she was weak, she was present.
Hope bloomed in my chest. “I still have access to my arcane powers.”
“That’s good. Very good. We might be able to use that to break ourselves free.”
I gnawed on my bottom lip, thinking.
“What is it?”
“Before I was taken, I used a massive amount of power. It… I don’t know… it made me weak.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked skyward. “I was afraid of that.”
“You were?”
He nodded, his cerulean eyes catching mine. “I had the same problem with my arcane powers when they came in. You’ll get used to it, but it takes time. The most important part is that you fought back—okay?”
“For all the good it did,” I said, dropping my eyes to the ground.
“No!” His voice startled me as it echoed off the walls. “From what Sidrick told me, you are the only reason his brother is still alive. You did great, Spark, especially against a twin unara we had no idea existed.”
My brows furrowed. “Twin unara?”
Artton nodded. “It’s when a magic takes the power of two fae to fuel it. In this case, Lothar and Njal.”
“Wait, they’re twins?”
“No. But their power signatures are twinned.”
“How do you know this?”
“I don’t for sure,” he said, stealing a look at his friend, “but from what Sidrick witnessed, it took both of them to form the death pull mist.”
“Death pull? Is that what that’s called?” Unconsciously, I rubbed my arms for warmth. “It felt… wrong. Unnatural.”
He breathed in deeply before letting out a slow, measured breath. “Because it is. Each High Lord has their own unara in a sense—though it’s tied to the court themselves. Myron’s is healing, as you’re well aware. But Wymond’s is the opposite.”
“The opposite?” I asked, confused.
Artton nodded once. “Where Myron pulls life from the Mother to heal, Wymond siphons life to the Mother.”
“Like when trees hibernate for the winter?” I asked.
“Exactly like that,” he confirmed. “Only the tree doesn’t come back to life after.”
I shook away the memory of Kaelun screaming as the mist tried to do just that. “So,” I said, taking a breath, “they’ve, what? Found a way to tap into it by combining their powers?”
“Honestly”—he dragged a hand across his face—"I haven’t the faintest idea how they did it, but that’s as good a guess as any. Either way, it’s unnatural."
Stepping toward one of the walls, I caressed its cold, smooth surface with my fingertips, which drew forth the memory of the sacred cavern Caius had taken me to during the summer solstice.
“This rock,” I said, eyes wide as I looked back to Artton, “is the same kind of obsidian in Caius’ sacred cavern.”
“Yes. Though where they got it is beyond me. To our knowledge, the only modern-day stones that possess the power to absorb like this are the ones back home. Between the stone’s innate abilities, and whatever Thaddeus did to them, we’ve got this.
” He waved a hand, indicating the whole of our power-stealing prison.
I looked over to Sidrick to get his thoughts, only he was asleep—or passed out. With how sickly he looked, I couldn’t tell. Leaning closer to Artton, I whispered, “Do you still have access to your arcane powers?”
“Barely, and I’ve been using them to mend his back—which is still in bad shape.”
“We need to get out of here,” I said.
“I’m open to suggestions.”
A moment later, footfalls echoed down what sounded like a long corridor, and the hole in my chest tugged as if calling me forward. “Endymion,” I breathed, hope blooming as I stepped forward.
“No,” Artton said firmly before stepping in front of me. “We haven’t seen him yet, and I doubt he’d risk visiting us within a few hours of you arriving.”
My shoulders dipped as hope was stripped away faster than it came.
“Stay behind me,” he ordered, and based on his reaction, visitors were an unwelcomed event.
Swallowing, I reached for my daggers and silently cursed to find I’d been disarmed—my empty thigh sheath the only indication I’d be armed at all.
With each, measured step they took, my heart pounded harder.
Then, they stopped out of sight.
“Apologies, King Thaddeus,” a male voice said.
My legs nearly buckled under me as Artton tucked me behind him. I pressed a palm against his firm back to ground me, though it did nothing to quell the trembling.
Please, gods, don’t let him in, I silently prayed.
“You’re aware,” the guard continued, “that I don’t have the authority to let you pass without the High Lord’s explicit permission or a commander present.”
“I assure you I’ve been granted special permission from High Lord himself to visit Lady Nyleeria—after all, he’s been helping me look for her all this time,” Thaddeus said, silken tone of lies slicking down my spine with a shudder.
“I’m more than happy to wait here as you do your due diligence.
He’s in his residence attending to his lady, who’s in the middle of delivering their firstborn.
I’m sure he won’t mind the intrusion. It is important to be thorough, after all. ”
“Is that true?” I hissed.
Artton glanced at me over his shoulder. “He’s lying through his teeth, but not about that. He’s not stupid enough to make up a lie he could get caught in.”
“You mean like my parents,” I muttered. The summer fae raised a brow in challenge which had me gritting my teeth—apparently, unexplained magic tattletaling on the king didn’t count as getting caught.
Silence fell as the guard seemed to consider for a long moment, and my shoulders drooped at the unmistakable shuffling of him moving aside.
Shielded by my protector’s bulk, a click, click-click, click-click, click filled the cavern before a heavy door creaked open. Daring a glance around my Artton, I froze as the king stepped into our cell and closed the door behind him, the clicking sound going off in reverse, locking us all in.
“I must admit,” Thaddeus crooned, and the sound echoing off the walls made me want to bolt, “I am a bit surprised.”
He took a lazy step forward, then another before stopping.
I could only see the tip of his shoes through Artton’s legs, and I hated that I knew they were his favorite pair this time of year—something about that knowledge made me acutely aware that a powerless Artton was the only thing that stood between me and the monster that would take the spark at any cost.
“For the longest time,” he continued, “I suspected Wymond had stolen her away. Until I saw her in the forest with the likes of you,” he spat, “I was convinced Amos had her. I’d never once considered that Caius had it in him to take what’s mine.
It’s been over a year since you stole her, so if you don’t mind, fae, I’d kindly ask that you step aside. ”
Artton growled, his back muscles tensing under my hand before he made to take a step forward.
“Ah. Ah. Ah.” Thaddeus clicked his tongue.
“There’s no need for that.” He snapped his fingers, and a cry came from our left.
I dared a look past Artton’s frame and fisted the fabric of his shirt hard when I saw Sidrick’s eyes bulge in fear as the obsidian wall came to life, its wispy tentacles wrapping tight around his neck.
“I’ll kill you with my bare hands if you hurt him,” Artton seethed.
The noose tightened a fraction, causing Sidrick to claw at his neck.
“The thing is,” Thaddeus said, nonplussed, “unlike my autumn friends, I have no qualms with killing either of you. Let your precious Caius come with the might of the Summer Court for all I care. I’m happy for you to slaughter each other. Less work for me in the end.”
Artton snarled, the guttural sound echoing down the corridor.
“Tell me,” Thaddeus taunted as he took another step forward, and I didn’t have to see to know that he was nose-to-nose with Artton. “Would you prefer for his death to be quick instead?”
I watched in horror as new tendrils formed like hands and the sides of Sidrick’s head, poised to snap.
He was changing color from the thick bands still around his neck, and the sounds of him struggling for air triggered the dream where I’d been forced to endure Tarrin’s wet rasps as he drowned in his own blood.
“Stop,” I said before giving it a second thought, stepping out from Artton’s cover.
“Spark,” he warned, but his eyes gave away the severity of our situation as they shifted from condemnation to fear to apology.
We were weaponless, powerless, and trapped in a room that did Thaddeus’ bidding—and Artton knew it.
My only saving grace was that, while brazen, Thaddeus wasn’t stupid enough to steal my powers for himself in the heart of the Autumn Court under its High Lord’s roof. No, this visit was a personal call.
“Here I am,” I said, standing tall, chin up. “Now let Sidrick go.”
His eyes roamed my body from head to toe, then back again, his gaze catching on the womanly curves that had filled out since he’d seen me last.
“Thaddeus,” I said, his attention kicking back up.
He didn’t say a word as he scrutinized me.
Mercifully, he snapped his fingers, and Sidrick fell to his hands and knees, coughing.
Artton visibly shook, torn between going to his best friend, fighting, and protecting me.
We both knew he wouldn’t leave my side—as was his sworn duty.
We also knew we were at the king’s mercy—which is why when the king took a step toward me, the only thing either of us could do was brace ourselves for what came next.