17. I Was Never Into Religion, Anyway
17
I Was Never Into Religion, Anyway
Aliza
I ’d assumed we were heading to Anwir’s suite, or maybe Sage’s, wherever it might be, but Idris–diverting only to collect his swords from his suite–led me down the castle steps, through the dark grounds, and out through the castle gates before teleporting.
We arrived in a sprawling cemetery, and the heat of the balmy night doused my skin at the same time as a shiver.
I eyed the nearest headstone, a tall, crumbling structure that leaned precariously, its etchings filled with moss.
One eyebrow cocked as I whispered to Idris, “You do know how to treat a lady.”
He didn’t reply, too intent on scanning our new surroundings, one hand clutching mine, the other hovering over his shoulder, his fingers resting lightly on the hilt of one of his swords. I followed his lead, sweeping my gaze around the cemetery. Nothing stirred amongst the moonlit shapes or beneath the shadows of towering trees.
“Idris, what’s going on?”
Seemingly content that we weren’t in imminent danger, he dropped his arm and turned to me. His eyes were wary .
“I said I’d tell you everything, and I will.” He spoke in hushed tones. “This isn’t why I’ve brought you here, but I discovered something today, or, I suppose it was yesterday. Something you should know.”
“What is it?”
He hesitated, his throat bobbing. “Alright, I’m just going to say it, but know that it changes nothing between us, not for me. Jane is alive.”
Like a dying clock, the world ticked slowly to a halt, freezing into place. Idris’ words made no sense. Jane the mortal woman? Alive? After all these years? Impossible, but… Idris wasn’t the liar that his brother was. True, he nursed his secrets until he was ready to share, but he didn’t lie…
I froze in place, unable even to let my lips part in surprise. Whatever I’d expected, it wasn’t this. Jane should have died centuries ago. She was human, unless…
“Someone immortalised her.”
It wasn’t a question, but Idris answered anyway. “Yes. She’s living in Tir o Haf.”
Little red warning flags flapped furiously in my mind. I didn’t know where this was going, and while Idris had disproven Anwir’s latest pack of lies, I couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy that tightened around my heart. Mate or not, wife was a pretty important title. “How did you find out?”
“I have an old friend who lives in the city. I paid him a visit and–”
“You went to Tir o Haf?” I all but shouted, before remembering that we were supposed to whisper. I snapped my mouth shut, glancing around for swooping death. When nothing stirred, I narrowed my eyes at Idris and hissed, “You went to Tir o Haf? ”
That beautiful land was deadly. I should know better than anyone. Every moment I’d spent there had been a battle for survival, a battle I’d ultimately lost in the roar of flames.
His lips twitched. “I heard you the first time. But yes, I did, and while there, I discovered that Jane is still alive.”
Discovered? He made it sound like an accident, but had he gone looking, not for her, because she should be long dead, but to reminisce? Maybe he’d paid a visit to their old haunts, intent on reliving happy memories. But it wasn’t that that had bile coating the back of my throat. That was understandable for a grieving husband and father, even if I didn’t fully embrace the idea.
“Idris, that was really dangerous. Why would you do that?”
“Because my brother is intent on pretending this war isn’t imminent. His head is too full of frivolity, and I needed to know where we stand.”
It wasn't what he meant, but I dared to ask, “And where do we stand?”
If his wife was alive, why had he done those things to me tonight? Why was he still holding my hands in his?
“In terms of the war, you’ll find out soon enough. That’s why we’re here. To meet my spy. In terms of… us?” His fingers tightened slightly, as though afraid I might make a bid for freedom. “For me, nothing has changed.” My heart threatened to crumple, but before I could dwell on the fact that he still loved Jane after all these years, he continued. “I haven’t known you long, Aliza, but… I want to know your favourite everything. I want to know your favourite flower, so I can make sure you always have vases brimming with them. I want to know which animal you like best, and what flavour of wine, and when your birthday is. I want to know, to be a part of, everything.”
That twinge of jealousy sizzled away in the molten flood of my heart. I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips, even as I asked, “What about Jane?”
“She’s well, all things considered. She has a child, and another on the way. And a mate. My spy, in fact. You’ll meet him soon enough. They’re happy together. Perhaps…” The muscles in his jaw feathered. “Perhaps I could be happy, too.”
His fingers flexed again, squeezing briefly. My throat went dry. I was willing to bet the world had stopped spinning as stillness settled over me. I stared up at him, trying to process this new information, and what it meant for us, and the bond he’d forged between us.
Jane hadn’t been– wasn’t –Idris’ mate. She was still alive, but it was my vases that he wanted to fill with flowers. What did I want, and was I brave enough to admit it?
I cleared my throat and licked my lips. “July twenty-first.”
It was as close to a confession as I could come, besides, the fae were intense. I doubted they had much concept of boyfriends and girlfriends, and I was perfectly happy to leave this, whatever it was, as something undefined for now. It was new and slightly terrifying territory, no matter how right it felt. Because it felt so right, so different to all I’d experienced before him. I didn’t want to mess it up.
A crease formed between Idris’ eyebrows at my words.
“You do have July in this stupid world, don’t you?”
He smirked. “Yes.”
“Well, there you go, then. You can’t know everything all at once, but let’s start there. My birthday is July twenty-first. ”
The wary look in his eyes faded into something soft and warm. “November seventeenth.”
“A fucking scorpio, I might have known.” No wonder he could be so difficult and aloof. I was a woman of science, but here in Neath, even the most ridiculous concepts seemed likely. If Idris, an immortal, lightning-wielding, point-eared prince had the gall to exist, why shouldn’t his star sign be accurate?
His chuckle was a music I could listen to all night long, but the fact remained that he’d teleported me to a graveyard. Unless Voldemort was about to rise from a cauldron, I couldn’t imagine what Idris had in store. “So, now that’s over with, are you going to tell me where we are?”
He grimaced. “Will I be in trouble if I say Tir o Haf?”
“The deepest of trouble.” I tried to scowl, but its effect was diminished by the fact that I slid closer to his reassuring presence, my gaze flitting over our eerie surroundings. No wonder it was so warm here. “Are you going to tell me why you’ve delivered me to a death trap?”
My birthday was fast approaching, but maybe I wouldn’t live to see it.
“Not yet, but I’ll show you.” He set off, leading me on a meandering path through ancient graves.
There were no flowers. How long had these people been dead if the immortals had forgotten them? Between anxious scans of the cemetery, I tried to read the names carved into the stone, but their poor condition made them illegible.
Despite their derelict state, the headstones grew larger the further we walked, more ornate, hinting at their former grandeur, until after a short walk, we arrived outside a mausoleum that could pass for a small house.
Idris hesitated, glancing around once, before leading me up the two marble steps. He pushed the door open, tensing as it creaked, and ushered me inside.
The first thing I noted was the tall, narrow, stained glass window directly opposite, and the shadowy form silhouetted in the painted moonlight shining through it.
My muscles locked, panic seizing me by the throat as the shadow moved. I stumbled back a step, colliding with Idris as the door ground shut, sealing us inside.
But the shadow drew closer, and as my eyes adjusted to the dull light, I saw that it was, in fact, a beaming fae male.
Idris’ hands closed over my robed shoulders, their warm weight comforting. “Aliza, this is Bryn. He’s an old friend of mine, and my spy.”
Oh, thank god. I might yet make it to morning without being murdered. Relief made my smile wide, and I held out my hand to Jane’s mate.
Bryn took it, but instead of shaking it, he dropped to his knee, bowing his head. “It is an honour, Your Majesty.”
If I was going to be a queen, someone really needed to send me to finishing school with all haste. I threw a panicked glance over my shoulder at Idris. It was then that I noticed Anwir and Sage lurking in the corner beside the door. The witch wore a quilted beige robe over a pair of boots, but Anwir had taken the time to dress in princely attire. He scowled at me as though Bryn’s attention was somehow my fault .
The atmosphere soured as the petulant prince took a step forward. “You’re late, what kept you?”
Idris’ fingers tightened on my shoulders invoking the oh so recently formed memory of them buried in my body. Thank God it was dark, because my ears all but burst into flame.
Idris ignored his brother, instead saying with a note of amusement, “Get up, Bryn. You’re making her uncomfortable.”
Bryn somehow managed to make scrambling graceful as he hurried to comply, dropping my hand. “My apologies, Your Majesty.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, a little awkwardly. “And call me Aliza.”
“What is the meaning of this, Idris?” Sage’s tone was brusque.
Idris ushered me away from the door and leaned against the tombs stacked like bunk beds set into the wall. Whatever amusement had lit his voice as he spoke to Bryn, it had gone now. Instead, he swept his solemn gaze over us all.
“I have bad news.”
My stomach plummeted, my mind darting frantically between ridiculous scenarios. Pansy had been abducted from her bed. The vampires had rushed the human world, slaughtering everyone. Maelgwyn was outside, prying the door open with a crowbar.
“Bryn works closely with Maelgwyn. He is a trusted courtier. I paid him a visit today, yesterday even. A few hours ago.” He turned to his brother, and to my horror, Idris’ eyes were stricken, his skin paler than usual. “It’s worse than we feared.”
“Spit it out,” Anwir snapped.
I bristled with indignation, but Idris seemed not to mind the way his twin addressed him as he continued. “Our dear old uncle has pushed the boundaries of natural magic and found them lacking. Maelgwyn has been dealing with the gods.”
Gods? I frowned as the faces of my companions blanched in unison.
“It’s true,” Bryn offered, his voice subdued. “He has been amassing borrowed power for centuries.”
“Mother above,” Sage muttered, and for once it wasn’t in irritation. “How?”
“He doesn't share the details, but I believe it has much to do with his keen interest in locating, and the subsequent disappearance of, some ancient and powerful magical relics.”
“Impossible,” Anwir spluttered, though his rapidly paling complexion contradicted his conviction.
The witch’s brow furrowed in thought. “On the contrary. This explains everything.”
“It changes everything,” Idris said, shooting a sharp look at his twin. “There is no more time for parties. We need decisive action before it’s too late.”
Anwir puffed up, drawing himself up to his full height, his mouth opening, but I spoke before he could. “Too late?” I interjected, my voice shrill.
“The gods do not care for the affairs of the living,” Sage said. “If they are lending Maelgwyn their power, it will be in their interests to do so. There is only one thing they want.”
Why did I get the impression that they had no interest in lounging on fluffy clouds?
“Impossible,” Anwir spat again. “They cannot break free. ”
“When Queen Claudia banished them to the Evermore, I am certain there were those who told her such a task was impossible, and yet, she did it anyway. If Bryn is right, and Maelgwyn is handing over artefacts, there’s no telling what the gods are capable of.” Sage’s reasonable tone was at odds with her trembling. It rattled me. In all the time I’d known her, she’d been stoic and unshakeable, apart from the day Hyacinth had died. This couldn’t be as bad as that, could it? “But Idris is right. We must remove Maelgwyn from power before it’s too late.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, and all eyes turned to me, “but what do you mean by ‘dealing with the gods’? Has he been saying a few prayers or something?”
Leaving artefacts on an altar, bribes disguised as offerings to an imaginary man in the sky, didn’t sound too troubling. There were plenty of humans who did the same thing.
I knew nothing of Neath’s gods, other than a few mentions of a Mother, but the way my companions were speaking tonight, Maelgwyns gods didn’t have a maternal bone in their bodies. Did they even have bodies? Idris’ explanation of the Evermore, whispered to me over the pillows of my bed in the human world, had made it sound like a sort of heaven. An afterlife. Were we dealing with spirits?
“The gods do not heed our prayers, girl. They are the worst of all the monsters you have yet encountered,” Sage said, her tone as dark as the night pressing against the window.
“It’s said they’re an early form of fae,” Idris offered, a little more helpfully. “They crawled from the deepest pits of the Evermore, slaughtering the angels tasked with watching over the dead. Once they’d chewed their bones to dust, they spread to the land of the living. To Neath.” He hesitated, the muscles in his jaw flickering as he ground his teeth together. “It was the beginning of a war that almost eradicated my people.”
“Our first crowned queen, Claudia, defeated them,” Bryn explained, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed. “In those days, the fae were scattered, living in small tribes and settlements. Claudia united them, and together, they fought for their world. But war wasn’t enough. She was losing. Instead, she struck a deal. She tricked the gods, banishing them to the Evermore, and sacrificed herself and her warriors in the process. Thousands gave their lives that day. Those who remained set about ensuring the gods would remain trapped, and Neath as we know it grew from the ashes of that civilisation.”
More bargains and trickery. More bloodshed. More far-fetched tales. When would it end? Would any of us ever be able to lead normal lives?
“We cannot let them escape their prison,” Sage insisted, stalking to the window and staring out, as though the answer was among the tombstones.
“Okay,” I mumbled, more to myself than anything. I raised my voice and said, “Okay. How do we keep them in?”
I’d been through enough. I didn’t want to have my bones chewed to dust on top of everything else.
“If records exist of the nature of Claudia’s deal, they have been hidden away,” Bryn sighed. “I learnt of Maelgwyn’s activity some years ago, and set about searching for a way to prevent the inevitable. I’d hoped the records would point to a way to keep the gods where they are. I was able to find texts mentioning the war, and even the deal, but never the exact wording, or how it came about. I did, however, manage to locate a handful of artefacts and hide them, though I doubt it will do much good in the end.”
“Well then, we just have to kill Maelgwyn before he goes too far.” The false optimism in my voice didn’t convince anyone of the simplicity of my plan. I found Idris’ eyes and held his strained gaze.
A new emotion coiled around my heart, a fierce protectiveness that didn’t belong to me. Without sharing a word, I knew that emotion was his, knew it was focused around me. He wanted to keep me safe, but he was afraid he couldn’t do it. I tried to offer him a reassuring smile, but all I could manage was a slight twitch at the corners of my mouth.
A cold chuckle came from the corner, and I shifted my gaze to Anwir, only to find his joyless smile fixed on me. He’d been so quiet that I’d almost forgotten he was there. “Finally, she comes around to my way of thinking. Have I not been pleading with you to do something of use for weeks?”
My mouth fell open in indignation, but it was Idris’ savage snarl that reverberated around the cramped space. He shoved away from the tombs, shivering blue glowing under his skin. It threaded and wove like tree roots, lighting him from within as he advanced on his brother. Anwir blanched, shrinking against the wall.
I lurched for him, static snapping under my hand as I caught his wrist, at the same moment that Sage slid between the princes, raising her hand like an air traffic controller.
“Stop this nonsense at once!” she snapped. “Do you intend to give away our location? Douse your magic.”
Idris bared his teeth at Anwir over her head, but the lightning faded, leaving the mausoleum several shades darker .
“Bickering amongst ourselves achieves nothing,” Sage said, though her bemused gaze slid from Idris to me, still clutching his arm. “Save it for the battlefield.”
Idris didn’t immediately back down, choosing to hold his glare for a few seconds. Then his demeanour softened, and I seized the opportunity to back him away, only to arrive at Bryn’s side.
The male stared at his friend in open-mouthed stupor. He blinked, replacing the confusion in his eyes with awe, and rasped, “Idris? What the fuck was that?”