Chapter 20 Sorin
CHAPTER 20
SORIN
S orin sat alone in his small office near the soldiers’ barracks at the castle. Given his rank, he was lucky enough to have a place to escape to when he needed a break from the mortal whining from time to time. There were times he would get more than frustrated with the lack of strength and skill. It wasn’t the soldiers’ faults, but as a Fae warrior who had trained and fought on battlefields for centuries, he felt like he was training the yearlings in the Fire Court who had just come of age and knew nothing of battle.
That’s not what had driven him to seek solitude this morning, though. This morning all he could think about was that godsdamned kiss. He had hardly slept last night because of that kiss. Hearing her scream that she was alone and that she protected herself had made him go half insane. He had lost complete control when he’d kissed her. He still could not figure out what had come over him, and now? Now he couldn’t get her out of his head. She had already consumed too many of his thoughts with that damn ring and her arrogance and her godsdamned scent.
There was a knock on the door that startled Sorin from his thoughts.
“What?” he barked.
The door opened and Drake leaned against the doorframe. “You cannot tell me you are already in a foul mood this morning.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Sorin muttered.
Drake chuckled under his breath. “Then I am guessing my news will surely add to your mood. My father is visiting today.” Sorin stood and followed Drake out of the office, walking down the stone hall to the meeting chambers. “He said something about wanting to discuss the next phase of training for the High Force. I am assuming you know what that means?” Drake raked his hand through his blonde hair that had fallen into his eyes. Drake didn’t question it, but Sorin could tell it rubbed him the wrong way that he wasn’t privy to information about the things he trained the High Force in.
The soldiers that Sorin trained were highly skilled, and he trained them hard, like he did Fae warriors. The only thing that held them back from being just as deadly was their mortal blood, but even Sorin didn’t know what the next phase meant. He hadn’t realized there was to be a next phase. He didn’t know how he could possibly train them any better than they were. They were as deadly as assassins, if not deadlier.
“What time is he arriving?” Sorin asked as they rounded a corner.
“Now,” announced a man’s voice from the doorway of the meeting chamber. Lord Tyndell was a man in his late forties, but you’d never know it from his build. He was fit and trim, and as strong as the soldiers. He kept his training routine strict, never missing a day. On top of that, his mind was sharper than most, which made him invaluable for any political strategies that the king required. There were streaks of gray in his hair that was otherwise as blonde as Drake’s. Other than the hair, though, Drake looked nothing like his father.
Scarlett had called him gracious once. Sorin knew him as anything but. His only interactions with the man were brutal battle talks and training strategies. He was hard and vicious with the soldiers, ensuring they were a flawless unit. He had assumed such mannerisms carried over to his home life, but apparently that was not the case.
“Lord Tyndell,” Sorin said in greeting with a nod of his head.
“That will be all, Drake,” the Lord said, turning on his heel and striding into the meeting chambers. Drake scowled at his father’s back at the dismissal, nodded a farewell to Sorin, and left to tend to his own duties.
Sorin followed Lord Tyndell into the meeting chambers. The Lord had several maps laid on the table, and as Sorin neared, it took all his centuries of training to keep his face neutral. For the maps laid before him were the maps of the continent— all the lands, not just the mortal kingdoms. Not just the Fae Courts to the north and south. But the others that shared the land mass as well. These were lands that contained people many considered to be bedtime stories they told their children when they misbehaved.
Witches.
Shifters.
Night Children.
“I believe the High Force is ready to face any human and Fae threats our kingdom may encounter,” Lord Tyndell said. He had taken a seat at the head of the table. He leaned back in his chair as he spoke, pressing his fingers together and studying Sorin for any type of reaction to the maps and his words. The humans were terrified of the Fae and part of his job had been training them against Fae threats.
Which he had done.
Sort of.
He’d trained them with the common knowledge. He’d trained them that only black ashwood arrows and shirastone blades to the heart or head would kill a Fae. He even taught them a few attacks, but they would never have the speed to actually land a blow on a Fae. The odds of them eluding Fae sight and hearing to fire an arrow were slim to none.
Sorin finished crossing the distance to the table and pretended to study the maps. The Fae Courts were separated by powerful wards. These territories, though, were secured by powerful enchantments and spells. When the mortals came upon the borders of these lands, magic made them turn around. Magic made them believe they were returning home or had found whatever they were looking for. The Fire Court and Wind Court bordered the northern part of the continent. The Water Court and Earth Court occupied most of the southern half of the continent. The Witches occupied the easternmost portion bordering the Wind Court to the north and the Night Children lands to the south. The Night Children and the Shifters were completely secluded from the mortals. The Night Children had the Earth Court to their western border, and the Shifters to the south. And the Shifters? They occupied the peninsula to the south. The human lands ran through the middle of the continent and were divided into their three kingdoms: Baylorin on the far west, Toreall to the east, and Rydeon in the middle.
He leaned over the maps, not looking at the Lord, and said nonchalantly, “You want me to prepare them to face bedtime stories?”
“Come now,” he said smoothly. “We both know that such things are real, just as we both know you are not from these mortal lands.”
Sorin slid his eyes to the near black ones of Lord Tyndell. “Which lands do you think I am from?”
“A man of your skill set? I would have discovered you long before I did if you were from Windonelle. Your name would have also been known even here if you had trained in Toreall or Rydeon. Which can only mean, General Renwell, that you come from one of the Fae Courts.” Sorin was silent, not entirely sure what to say to the Lord as he continued. “I am well aware that a few mortals reside in the Courts, that some humans prefer living as lesser beings amongst the power-hungry Fae. I am also aware that many seek refuge from the Courts here. A place to start over. Which side of that line you reside on I have yet to discover.”
“Does it matter?” Sorin finally asked.
“No. It does not matter to me.” A smile played on the Lord’s lips as he said, “You are exceptional at your job, and you manage your unit well. As long as that continues, I do not give a shit if you hate the Fae bastards or love them. As long as my soldiers know how to kill them, I don’t give a fuck. I have given you the very best this kingdom has to offer. Now it is time to train them against more than just the monsters to the north and south of us. As you were trained in the Courts, you are very aware of the other…territories on this continent.”
Sorin stared at the Lord for a moment. “Why would you feel the need to train them against lands that cannot reach them?”
“You are here, are you not?” he replied with a smirk. “Clearly it is easier to reach these lands than we think.”
Sorin narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t tell the Lord that the only ones allowed to travel among realms were the Fae, that everyone else was sequestered to their own territories. He didn’t know how much the Lord actually knew. It could raise even more questions. “Why do you think the other realms would even want to come to these lands?”
“That is the question, isn’t it?” Lord Tyndell put his hands flat on the table and pulled one of the maps towards himself. It was a more detailed map of the Night Children territory. Sorin wasn’t sure if he was impressed or disturbed that it had so much detail of their lands. “So tell me about this Night Children territory.”
Sorin leaned back in his chair and pointed to the map. “Those lands are largely wild and untamed. There are various clans, and there is a ruler of them all, but they largely govern themselves, answering to their Clan Leaders. Their Contessa only steps in when she absolutely must.”
“Interesting,” the Lord said, processing and contemplating the information. He drummed his fingers on the table, studying the map. “How long has the Contessa been in power?”
Sorin studied the Lord for a long moment before saying, “A very long time.”
The Lord met his stare. “I am well aware of the immortal life span that a vampyre possesses. How long?”
“Over five hundred years,” Sorin ground out.
No surprise lined the Lord’s face. Just a man taking in information on opposing forces and strategizing. “She has been unchallenged for that long?”
“No,” Sorin answered. “She has been challenged. She has also slaughtered those who dared to do so in very unpleasant ways. The last one, from my understanding, was gutted and then strung up by his insides. Very publicly.”
Lord Tyndell showed no shock at his statement. He merely said, “Noted. I assume she is harder to defeat than your average vampyre then?”
Sorin nearly choked at the Lord’s words. He said slowly, unsure of how to make this any clearer, “The Contessa has been unchallenged for over two hundred years. She has been undefeated for longer. She will reign for hundreds of years more. You do not wish to cross her path in any battle, my Lord.”
“That is not what I asked you, General,” the Lord growled.
“Why would you need to know how to kill the Contessa unless you are planning to enter the realm of the Night Children itself? She will not leave it. To my knowledge, she has never left her realm. The ones sequestered there keep to themselves. Unless you are planning to send an army into their realm, in which case you will need to first cross at least one other equally powerful and likely more terrifying territory, knowledge about the Contessa is futile. Furthermore,” Sorin added, cutting the Lord off as he started to argue, “I could not tell you how to defeat the Contessa if I wanted to. That is knowledge I do not have, nor has it been recorded in any books I have ever had access to.”
Lord Tyndell was quiet for a long moment before saying only, “I see.” He stood then, and Sorin did the same. “Come. I am adding another soldier to your Force, and he will be here shortly.”
“Will he be able to catch up quickly?” Sorin asked as he and the Lord strode out of the council room.
The High Force was small but tight knit. They were deadly enough individually, but as a group, they were even more lethal. They worked in tandem, having trained so thoroughly together, they could anticipate each other’s moves. If they had been Fae, they would have been one of the finest units Sorin had ever witnessed.
“He has ambition and has requested to be assigned to the High Force. He is highly skilled, but I told him he had one month to get to the level of the others or he would be out,” Lord Tyndell answered.
“When does he start training?” Sorin asked, looking over at the Lord as the sound of clashing swords filled the air.
“Today,” he answered, pointing to the training galley doors at the east side of the room where Mikale Lairwood was walking into the galley.
“No,” Sorin said.
“Excuse me, General?” Lord Tyndell asked, ire seeping into his voice.
“I will not train him,” Sorin said, gritting his teeth.
“It is not a request, General. It is an order,” the Lord answered with lethal calm.
“Does he understand I will be his superior?” Sorin asked, watching as Mikale approached them, a smug smile on his face telling Sorin he most certainly did.
“I understand there is a mutual dislike between the two of you,” Lord Tyndell answered. “Use it to your advantage, General Renwell, and give him hell.” With that, the Lord had turned and left without another word.
“I am leaving,” Sorin barked at one of his men. “Tell Baron to run through the formations and get the new guy in shape.”
“Yes, Sir,” the soldier said and ran off to find Baron.
After the conversation with the Lord, he had little desire to spend any time in the same room as Mikale today. Sorin waved off the carriage that pulled up to take him to his apartment, opting to walk the many blocks home from the castle grounds. The streets of Baylorin were full of the hustle of the day, but everyone stepped out of his path. Eyes quickly went to the ground if they met his.
As he walked, he found his mind right back on Scarlett. It had been more than a month since he’d pulled her from that dream and weeks since that night in his apartment where Scarlett had transformed into a Wraith of Death. He still could hardly wrap his mind around the fact that she was Death’s Maiden. Fucking Cassius refused to tell him anything about her. He didn’t know why he cared so much.
That is why I made sure he was here first .
Nuri’s words haunted him day and night. When he’d asked her about it, all she’d said was, “I see the way you look at her, General, and her you. We may not be as close as we once were, but I still know how to read her like a book.”
Seeing Scarlett walking up the archery range, her cheeks full of color and her usual swagger back, he had felt relief deep in his soul. The wickedness he’d witnessed that night was gone, although it were as if a trace of it remained, hovering just beneath the surface. As if she had indeed shoved it back into a cage but could summon it at any time. Her icy blue eyes seemed to have permanent dark flecks in them now. He had almost welcomed the glare she threw at him until he heard the bitterness in her voice.
Scarlett’s one demand was to know about the Fae Queen she had seen him with. Talwyn Semiria, Fae Queen of the East.
Fae Queen of all the Courts now, he supposed.
Sorin climbed the stairs to his apartment. He unbuckled his sword belt and piled his various weapons in the corner of the room. He walked to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of brandy, knocking it back in one swallow. After pouring himself a second glass, he walked to the table strewn with papers and books, including the book he’d taken from Scarlett.
Talwyn had given him permission to go home, to the Fae Realm, to his magic. To his people. A few months ago, he wouldn’t have thought twice. With the events of the past few weeks, he’d almost left. But he hadn’t been lying when he told Talwyn he wasn’t ready. Despite loathing nearly everything about this land, he couldn’t leave the Semiria ring. Not without figuring out not only how Scarlett had gotten it, but how she was managing to access her magic without it. Not to mention Nuri and how the hell she had gotten here.
Sorin knocked back the second glass of brandy at the thought of them and took the book Scarlett had been reading to the sofa. He thumbed idly through the pages, lost in thoughts about Scarlett and the ring and the weapon supposedly hidden here and the various territories.
There was also the matter of Lord Tyndell and this training of the High Force. He had come right out and asked how to kill the Contessa. The idea that he thought they would ever get close enough to her to even attempt such a thing told Sorin that he truly had no idea the magnitude of the power of the other realms. The mortal lands were at the bottom of the power food chain with their inability to access magic. To even enter the Night Children lands they needed to cross either the Earth Court and face Prince Azrael Luan and his armies or, probably worse, the Witch Kingdoms. They had been placed between the Night Children and human lands to keep the humans safe. How ironic.
He thumbed through the book again, halting on a page near the back about the original Fae Queens who had been sisters. Queen Henna had ruled the eastern Wind and Earth Courts. Queen Eliné had ruled the western Fire and Water Courts. Queen Henna had been killed when her daughter, Talwyn, was barely able to walk. Her father had passed a few years later. Queen Eliné had raised her niece, ruling all the Courts with grace and elegance until Talwyn would one day be able to take up her throne. Sorin had been her personal magic tutor at the request of Eliné.
Eliné. He ran his finger over the name of the queen that he had been loyal to. Sorin had been Queen Eliné’s most trusted advisor. Their relationship, he realized, mirrored Scarlett and Cassius. He had been her soulmate. They had not been lovers, not in the slightest. A soulmate was not a romantic bond like the mortals made it out to be, but a bond between two kindred souls. He served by her side nearly every day, and he had no idea where she had gone or why. She’d left no note. She’d never hinted she would be leaving. She had disappeared in the middle of a cold winter night, leaving Talwyn on a throne she had hardly ruled from.
Sorin had advised Talwyn in Queen Eliné’s stead, both of them believing Eliné would return, but Talwyn was a daughter of Sefarina, the goddess of the winds, and Silas, the god of the earth and forests. She had begun building her own Inner Circle, but Eliné had still been heavily involved with the Courts and guiding Talwyn. He knew when her time came to fully step into her role as queen, he would be pushed to the side. But it had been worse than that. It had been nearly ten years later, when he woke to Talwyn screaming. He found her rocking herself in her bed, tears streaming down her cheeks. She claimed to have had a dream that Eliné had passed. They had summoned a powerful Seer who had confirmed it, and left Talwyn grieving the death of a mother she had never known, a father she hardly remembered, and an aunt she never got to say goodbye to. Not to mention Tarek. Deaths for which she would never have closure.
He had stayed by her side, holding her and comforting her. She had eventually fallen asleep and when she woke, she took one look at Sorin and had sent him away, back to the Fire Court he resided in with flames and embers in his veins. The rift between them had only widened with each passing day. She became hell bent on seeking revenge on those responsible for the deaths she’d experienced, beginning by sending him here to find a weapon that likely didn’t even exist.
The memories flowing through him, Sorin had just poured himself another glass of brandy when he scented her a moment before she swung in his window. “I do have a door, you know,” he drawled, knocking back the glass of alcohol.
“Drinking alone, General?” Nuri asked as she flopped onto the other end of the sofa. “Are you still brooding over Scarlett telling you to stay away from her? She’ll get over it eventually, you know. She always does. In the meantime, I can keep you company.”
“Has anyone ever told you how utterly insufferable you are, Nuri?” Sorin asked dryly.
“I would love to show you how delightful I can be,” she purred back, her honey-colored eyes going predatory. Her silk and honey voice caressed his nerves, but nothing more. “I’ve never been with a Fae lover before.”
“I have had my share of delight from the daughters of night,” he replied coolly. “You would not be able to keep up.”
Nuri scowled at him. “You ruin all my fun. How do you do that by the way?”
“She sent a message for you,” Sorin said, ignoring her question and pouring yet another glass.
Nuri straightened. “When did you speak with her?”
“Yesterday,” he answered darkly.
“Well, that certainly explains the renewed pissy mood…and the drinking,” Nuri said, eyeing his liquor glass. “Out with it then.”
“You two are very demanding when you want something,” Sorin answered bitterly.
“It’s one of our more charming qualities,” Nuri replied with a smirk.
“She said to tell you that Prince Callan has sent word he has news and that a place needs to be determined to meet undetected.”
“Interesting,” Nuri mused, propping her chin on her hand. “It’s been a few weeks. I wonder if she’s ready to just go back to the castle…”
“You cannot be serious? She was a walking phantasm for days after last time. I don’t know what the hell happened there, but—”
“Oh, sure you do, General,” Nuri said with a knowing smile. “There is little left to the imagination of what went on that night.”
“The way you manipulate her with her emotions is abominable,” he snarled. “Do not even think of suggesting that again.”
Nuri clicked her tongue. “Why are you and Cassius so intent on coddling her? She will likely face much bigger trials in her lifetime. She already has. And only I will have cared enough to prepare her for such.”
“What are you talking about?”
“All in due time, Sorin. All in due time,” was all she said. Sorin gritted his teeth, and Nuri seemed to note the movement. “It’s wonderful being on the other side of a secret, isn’t it?” she said with a wink. “Did she have any suggestions on where to make this little rendezvous happen?”
“She was not in a particularly chatty mood,” Sorin replied, the thought of her lips on his taking over his memories once more.
“I suppose we shall have to do it here then,” Nuri said simply.
“What?” Sorin asked, her words snapping him from his thoughts.
“I suppose we shall—” she began repeating slowly, drawing out each word.
“I heard what you said,” Sorin barked. “Why here?”
“He is the Crown Prince , Sorin,” Nuri said as if he were dense. “We can’t exactly meet with him for tea, can we? If he comes here, if Scarlett and I are here a day or two before, no one will be any the wiser. It will look as if he’s coming to visit one of the generals of his father’s army.”
Sorin blinked. It had been so long since he’d dealt with the Night Children, he’d almost forgotten how clever and cunning they could be.
Almost.
“I suppose if Scarlett will agree to come here, then it will be fine. But maybe, eventually, someone could fill me in on what is going on?”
“Use that charming demeanor of yours and ask Scarlett. This is her story to tell,” Nuri said.
“So everyone keeps saying,” Sorin grumbled.
“Although, be prepared that should we indeed meet here, you shall have to see her interact with Prince Callan and that is always… fascinating,” Nuri said contemplatively. “Anyway, I do have a job tonight and would love to fill my stomach before I venture out,” she said, suddenly rising and eyeing his arm.
Sorin rolled his eyes. “So glad I can be of service,” he said, rolling up the sleeve of his tunic. The feral look of hunger filled her eyes as she watched him. “What did you eat before I came along?”
“Ugh,” she said, her face filling with disgust. “My father keeps bottles of animal blood in the ice box for me. Fresh is always better, and Fae blood is divine.” Her face was near mesmerized as she sat next to him and sank her fangs into his wrist.
“Of course it is,” Sorin chuckled while she gulped a few mouthfuls of his blood as if she were dying of thirst.
Nuri pulled back, a drop of his blood on her chin. “Why are you so willing to let me feed on you?”
“It serves my own purposes,” he replied, a slow smile coming across his face as she bent to taste more. She froze at his implications. “How do you think I am able to refuse your alluring trances so easily?” She stared at him in shock. “Didn’t anyone teach you that should you drink Fae blood, the one you drink from not only becomes immune to your wiles, but you also cannot harm them until their blood has left your system? Which takes several days, by the way.”
“My father is not a vampyre. He likely does not know such things,” she said, her mouth forming a thin line.
“Perhaps not,” Sorin said, lifting his arm toward her. “Did you get your fill?”
Nuri bared her fangs at him, an inhuman growl coming from her throat. She stood, wiping her chin, and pulled her hood up. “There is a party at the Pier tomorrow night. I shall make sure Scarlett is there. She loves to dance. She will also stay out later than normal and events of interest to you may transpire should she not take her tonic in time. Do what you will with such information,” she snapped, stalking to the open window.
“Do come back if you need a snack, Nuri,” Sorin called after her, laughing as he rolled down his sleeve, and she disappeared into the shadows of the night.