Chapter 30
CHAPTER 30
I stare out the window at a kingdom bathed in moonlight. Stars flicker in the sky.
We spent another hour practicing his dream magic, and I can’t brush off the horror of his nightmares. In his dreams today, we stalked the streets of a town in Brittany, and the dead lay all around, eyes gaping up at the skies, bodies already rotting from a massacre.
They say he was the master of that horror, but I didn’t see that part. The dreams only showed me the aftermath.
I take a sip of mead and glance outside. “Do you mind if I open the window again?” I say lightly. “It’s so pleasant today, and the view from here is so pretty.”
“Open it.” He drops into a chair with a glass of wine, then flashes me a knowing smile. “It’s a charming excuse to linger around my room longer. Farm girl, you might as well just admit the obvious and jump into my bed.”
He’s right about that, at least. I do want him. But he’s wrong about trusting me. For the past three nights, I’ve come into his room to practice the dream magic, and I’ve been opening the window every time, hanging around for a few minutes before leaving again. He never questioned it. Not even once.
I push open the window, and the chilly night air stings my face. Regret leaves a hollow ache in my chest.
I stare into the dark night and wonder how I will feel if this plan works. My eyes mist, and I blink hard, trying to clear them.
A silver of light flickers outside, a twinkling silver moth. I desperately want it be a regular moth drawn to the bedchamber’s light, but there’s no mistaking that metallic sheen and shimmering wings. Mordred wants my attention.
The little moth is fluttering frantically back and forth outside the window.
It’s a warning. Are the assassins coming now? The plan was for them to kill him in his sleep, but the lights are still on.
This is most certainly it. Tonight, Talan and Auberon will die.
Thoughts race through my skull, wild as a hurricane.
For weeks and weeks, I’ve maintained all these different roles and lies. Lying to everyone here, telling them I’m just a farm girl who fell in love with a prince. I’ve been lying to Talan, telling him I’m on his side against Auberon while I’m planning his death. Lying to the people in Avalon Tower and helping Mordred spy on them. It’s become nearly impossible to untangle the lies and remember who I really am.
When did I start lying to myself, hiding the truth from my own consciousness?
No matter. Right now, it’s clear as the moon in the sky that I’m not going to let them kill Talan.
Somewhere in me, there’s a cold part of myself that reminds me he’s the Dream Stalker, that he’s trying to destroy the human army. I’ve seen him casually slit a man’s throat over dinner. He was the mastermind behind the attack on Dover, behind the trap that was supposed to demolish our human allies in Scotland. Even if a fraction of the rumors about him are true, he’s a monster and one of the biggest risks to humankind.
His death can bring peace.
But even as my brain is screaming those things at me, I know I’m going to ignore logic. I’ve seen darkness in him, but there’s light, too, hidden in the depths of his dreams and the vulnerability no one else sees.
My chest tightens. What if I lock the window and keep them trapped outside?
Something tells me that might not be enough. Sir Kay wouldn’t hinge the entire plan on me. He suspects I’m compromised, and he’s right, because I am.
I could warn Talan, but that will raise far too many questions. I can’t risk blowing my cover.
I need to get him out of the room. The thought strikes me like a poison-tipped arrow.
I glance back at him. He’s lounging in a chair, reading, utterly relaxed. A lock of his dark hair falls before his face.
He looks up from the book, his sharp gaze rooting me in place. “Nia, why is your heart racing like someone is holding a blade to your throat? Either something suddenly scared you or you’re thinking about fucking me.”
My breath catches in my throat. “I get anxious sometimes. Want to go for a walk with me to see your dragon? It’s warm tonight.”
He tilts his head. “Anxious?”
There’s a word for anxiety in Fey, but almost no one uses it, and the moment it slips from my mouth, I realize my mistake. Anxiety is practically a foreign concept to them. The Fey feel fear, but they rarely put it into words.
I clear my throat. “You know, sometimes, I feel trapped. Let’s go out for a nighttime walk. I can feel spring coming, and I’d rather have you with me to keep me safe than some boring guards. Their conversation is no fun at all.”
Slowly, he slides his book onto the table. “A walk,” he repeats.
I shrug. “I want to go outside, and you should come with me. We’re Fey, Talan. We belong in the wild, not inside with books. We need to really live .”
A ghost of a smile. “You’re finally admitting you enjoy my company. If you’re not careful, Nia, you’ll be begging for more of it soon.”
He rises from his chair, and I reach out for him, hoping to hurry him along. He slips his hand into mine, and heat flares as always when we touch, an electrified jolt that races up my arm.
My heart is pounding as I lead him out into the hall. A few feet from the door, a powerful force knocks me off my feet, slamming me into the stone wall. My jaw snaps shut, and I bite my tongue. Blood fills my mouth. My ears are ringing, and my vision blurs.
Nothing makes sense. I’m seeing the starry night sky, even though we’re still inside the fortress. Smoke and dust swirl around me. On a nearby wall, a tapestry burns, its smoldering embers licking the air.
“Talan?” I rasp over the ringing in my ears. “What happened?”
I try to stand, but my body refuses to move. I glance down, and my stomach plummets. A massive stone pins my legs, and I can’t feel them. Are they crushed? I can’t feel them at all. My hips are wedged beneath part of the rock. Fear knots in my chest.
“I’ve got you.” Talan’s voice sounds far away.
He appears out of the smoke and kneels by my side, his jaw clenched. He grabs the rock with both hands. There’s no way he’ll be able to lift this monstrosity. It’s too large, too heavy. He needs help, but to my astonishment, he lifts the giant stone.
I drag myself from underneath the rock, and a dull pain starts to register. It hurts all over, but I can move my legs. They’re bruised but not actually broken. As soon as I’m clear of the rock, Talan lets go, and it falls to the floor with a terrible thud.
Talan kneels beside me and cups my cheek. “You’re all right.” His voice is low and rough. “But whoever set this bomb off will not be.”
I stare at the stars again. Blinking, I realize that I haven’t been hallucinating. I really can see the stars and the moons because the fucking wall is gone, and so is Talan’s bedroom. Part of the Tower has collapsed, and we’re on the edge of a sheer precipice, a gaping hole where Talan’s bedroom once stood.
Shock courses through me. Avalon Tower asked me to open the windows. They knew the window opening meant I was in the room.
Armed guards charge down the hallway.
“Your Highness,” one of them shouts. “Thank the gods you’re not hurt! There’s been some sort of attack. Magical explosives. Both your quarters and your father’s were the targets, apparently.”
“What happened to the king?” Talan’s voice echoes off the walls.
The guard shakes his head. “Luckily, he was in the library and not in his room.”
“Any signs of the assassins?”
“Already gone, Your Highness. We’re sending trackers to hunt them down.”
“Find them alive. I want their confession. Because they didn’t just try to kill me. They tried to kill my wife, a mistake I will make them regret.”
Nausea rises in my gut, and I lean against the wall, head pounding and my stomach twisted in knots.
The assassins never needed me to open the window to let them in.
The window was a signal that I was in the room with him.