Chapter 61
Belle
Cold spread across my skin like fingers of ice. I drew back and searched Valen’s face for the truth.
“I won’t kill them—I gave you my word, and I mean to keep it.
” A shadow fell across the king’s expression.
“I flew to the woods outside Silverthorn after I learned the spell had been broken, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, even when I still thought Cassius had betrayed me.
I can’t do it now that I know the truth. ”
I saw the truth of it in the somber creases at the corners of his mouth and the exhaustion in his eyes. Defeat and regret that seemed to press down on him. He wouldn’t kill them, and in doing so, he’d damn himself forever.
I wanted to feel relieved, yet something twisted deep inside my chest, an emotion I couldn’t quite let myself admit. “There must be another way to break the curse,” I whispered. “Killing your brother cannot be the only way.”
Valen withdrew and gazed out the dark window, as if somehow, the answer was out there, just beyond sight.
“We exhausted every possibility. When everything he could think of failed, Locke brought dozens of mages before me to try their magic—none had a shred of success. We tried spells to transform the beast into men. Incantations to locate and bind the demon. Sacrifices and blood magic to repel the curse.” For a second, he glanced back and met my eyes, then he turned away.
“We crossed many lines we shouldn’t have, and still, we failed. ”
The implications made my stomach twist, but I tried to keep my focus. What he’d done was the past. This was the present.
“The old man or demon—what happened to him?” I asked.
“I’m certain he’s out there. The cursed woods are his playground, and I’m certain he’s responsible for all the evil that has happened there—my curse, the beasts, the twisted trees, and quite likely, the disappearance of the Crimson Host. I’ve tried to hunt him down, but I’ve never found a trace.”
A cruel gloom had settled around the king. He was a formidable man, and yet I saw the weight he carried, the shadows wrapping around him, slowly suffocating him. I hated it with every scrap of my being.
My feet pulled me forward, and I took his hand. “Stop speaking like he’s already defeated you. Don’t give up. You are the most powerful man I’ve ever met. You bargained for the strength to defeat three mages. You have the strength to destroy him, too.”
“Maybe,” Valen said, as if his thoughts were a thousand miles away. “Or maybe you do.”
The words were thrown away, but they shot through me like a bolt of lightning, and my fingers went rigid. “What do you mean, me?”
Valen’s pupils dilated and suddenly, his focus was present and as sharp as ever. He pulled away and poured himself a drink, his back to me. “You came here to break the curse. Perhaps you can find a way.”
When he glanced back at me, his expression was unreadable. The infuriating man was once again as fortified as a castle, ringed by heavy walls and spiked parapets. Everything he said was guarded or shielded in half-truths.
“I can try. We can try.”
He nodded, considering. “There’s something I should show y—”
A knock sounded at the door.
“What is it?” Valen all but growled. “I wish to be left alone.”
“Lord Locke is here, Your Highness,” a sentry shouted from beyond the door.
Frustration and something akin to relief warred across the king’s face, and he glanced at me. “Fine. Let him in.”
The door swung open and the high magister strode in, then stopped short, slipping something behind his back. “Apologies, my lord. I didn’t realize you were preoccupied.” He nodded to me. “Welcome back, Lady Marquette. I hope you found your ride through the cursed woods to be exhilarating.”
Shock yanked me to my feet, and my stomach plunged into ice as I pointed to the objects he’d tucked away. “That’s the tusk. And the contract!”
His mouth formed a thin line. “It is.”
“What have you done with Gregoire?” The bookshelves began to shake, and I stormed over to Locke. “If you hurt him…”
“The huntsman,” Locke said with more than a little disdain, “is alive in the dungeon. His horse brought him back.”
I halted, stunned. His horse? Could he neither read nor ride?
Worry knotting in my chest, I twisted to face the king. “Did you know about this? What are you going to do with him?”
“I haven’t decided,” Valen rumbled.
“You knew and didn’t tell me?”
Godsdamnit, every time I started trusting him…
The king glared back at me, though for a second, I’d thought I’d seen him flinch. “I didn’t get a chance. You had pressing questions, if you don’t recall.”
Locke dumped the tusk and contract on the king’s desk. “Seeing as you decided to let the pretty one live, perhaps you should have your dragon incinerate the oaf in the town square for everyone to see—a reminder that there’s a cost to betraying the king’s trust.”
I spun on Valen. “You will not! You’re going to let him go immediately, or I won’t help you with your curse or the damned demon.”
The books slammed against their shelves.
Locke’s expression froze before he forced an inquiring smile. “Demon? What, pray tell, are you talking about, Lady Marquette?”
Valen dropped into a chair, fixing his high magister with an unreadable look. “I told her everything. About Sarkis. About my curse and the demon, and what I must do to break it.”
Locke’s eyes widened, then crashed down with fury. “Why?” he choked out, his voice a repressed scream. “Why didn’t you consult me first?”
The king closed his eyes. “Fifty years is too long to keep a secret. It was eating away at me. You’ve kept it a long time, but I needed someone else to help bear it for a while.”
The high magister looked nearly apoplectic.
“Do you really think telling her everything was wise?” He prowled around me like a wolf.
“How are we supposed to trust her? She’s already escaped once, she broke into your study, and her loyalty clearly lies with your brother.
There are plenty beyond him that would kill to know the truth about you. She could sell it to any one of them.”
“You realize I’m right here, don’t you?” I said, irritation flaring.
“Your proximity or absence has little bearing on this conversation,” Locke shot back.
My mouth opened, but my outrage strangled any reply.
Valen cast him a warning look. “She saw me shift. There was no way to hide it, and I wasn’t going to let you meddle with her memories.”
The words on the tip of my tongue evaporated as my chest constricted. Could the high magister change memories like the mages? Had he ever changed mine? Would I even know it if he had?
A chill crept over me.
Locke rubbed his brow, as if searching for patience. “I admit that telling her about the dragon was unavoidable. But about the demon as well?”
Valen rose and stalked toward his high magister.
“She came here wanting to find a solution to the beasts—well, they’re a part of the curse over this place as much as I am.
Perhaps she can discover something that we’ve missed.
If knowing the truth helps, then she should know it. Time is running out.”
“But—”
“I trust her in this,” Valen said, suddenly inches from Locke’s face. “And you know why.”
Locke glanced over at me, his expression taut. “Does she?”
I straightened. What did he mean by that?
“Accept my decision and speak of it no more.” Valen’s response was almost a growl, feral and furious.
Locke’s lips parted, then he snapped his jaw shut. “Fine. Your curse. Your decision. Hopefully, it’s not one we’ll all regret.”
“Forgive my watchdog,” Valen said. “He’s overprotective and has overstepped the bounds of courtesy.”
“My apologies,” Locke muttered. His gaze bored into me, as if he were stripping me bare. I felt more exposed than I had in my entire life, and my cheeks flushed.
“I’m not going to betray the king or his secrets, if that’s what you’re afraid of. All I care about is breaking this curse and protecting my kingdom.” I looked pointedly at Valen. “And freeing Gregoire. I can’t believe you locked him in the dungeon. Again.”
“He knew the conditions of his release.” For a second, the shadow of the dragon loomed over the king as his eyes turned gold and his posture cruel. “The fool broke my trust, conspired against me, helped you escape, and planned to betray me to my brother. What else would I do with him?”
“Please,” I gritted through my teeth.
Valen released a frustrated growl. “Fine. Gods only know what you see in him.” For a second, I thought there was almost a flash of jealousy in the way he looked at me, but that would’ve been ridiculous.
Valen crossed his arms, his level gaze challenging me to imagine what might happen if I pushed him too far. “The huntsman stays within Fellspire, but he can have his own rooms and freedom of movement, just as you have. Consider it a gesture of good faith.”
The tension building in my chest released in a sigh. “Thank you.”
Locke rolled his eyes. “Great. Tell the woman everything. Let the prisoners have free rein of the castle.” He poured himself a brimming glass of wine and raised it to me with a mocking smile. “We’ll see what glorious misery it brings.”
Refusing to let myself be drawn into another exchange of barbs, I turned my attention to the king. “Will you give the word to release Gregoire now? I can’t stand the thought of him trapped there.”
“I’ll send a writ with you.”
Locke drained his glass and set it down. “Don’t bother. I’ll escort the lady to the dungeons myself—in case the warden finds it suspicious that a former prisoner has come to release the man who just helped her escape. I know I would.”
I couldn’t hide my smile. “Thank you, Your Highness—for your mercy.”
“Don’t make me regret this, princess.”
“I probably won’t.”