Six
S IX
CALDRIS
I carried yet another of the fallen forms down the stairs toward the dungeons where I’d only just gotten free from hours prior. The pile of remains in front of the river exit grew with each trip as the Lliadhe and I worked tirelessly to get them out of the throne room. The remaining Fae carried their own mates, lingering beside the grouping of bodies far longer than they should have.
The sight would only torment them, would only remind them of all the moments they’d been deprived of. There would be no escaping the grief that was coming for them, or the madness that would eventually set in without the other half of them present to ground them against it, but that didn’t mean they needed to stare at their mate’s pain and suffering.
Mab had not been kind in her destruction.
I lowered the newest body beside the rest, a Lliadhe woman whose only crime had been to be in the wrong place when Mab snapped. She’d been the first to die, the messenger sent to deliver the humans to Mab’s throne room. She’d allegedly taken too long to make the journey earning Mab’s impatience as her punishment.
I stared at them, my gaze flashing between the boat waiting for me to make the journey with their souls while the Lliadhe handled their physical forms once I’d offered their spirits the true separation of the Void. I knew my place, understood my duty like a calling in my blood. It drew me toward that boat, my steps hesitant as the other part of me called from the other direction.
Only Estrella could make me abandon my duty, prolong the spirits’ suffering, and increase the chances that they may condemn themselves to an eternity wandering Alfheimr. I wanted to help them more than almost anything, but my gaze wandered to the steps that would take me back toward the throne room where more bodies waited.
If I simply turned right at the top, I would go in the direction of the cove where Mab had taken my own mate from me. The need to do right by her was stronger than my need to do right by the mate of another, and I took a step back in the few moments where I did not have an audience to judge me for the selfish act.
I turned toward the door and the stairs that waited for me, coming face-to-face with Nila as she carried some of the more… obliterated remains down. Her dress was stained with blood and gore, chunks of flesh clinging to the fabric as she simply stared at me.
Most would think I was simply returning to gather the next body, but there was something keen in her gaze that felt weighted.
She knew exactly where I was going, and I waited to see if she would judge me for abandoning her people in their time of need. Because there could be no doubt, the people of Tartarus were Nila’s. She may not have been their ruler or anything close to it, but she had ingrained herself into the community of Sidhe and Lliadhe alike so deeply that I didn’t think she knew how to separate her individual emotions from theirs any longer.
“Go,” she said, surprising me with the soft command. She stepped to the side, giving me the empty doorway so that I could pass her. “Go to her while you can.”
I glanced back over my shoulder, hesitating as I stared at the souls lingering close to their bodies, unable to reach out and touch the mates they had probably even feared in life. But with death came clarity, came a firmer understanding that they hadn’t possessed while their human upbringings and prejudices kept them from embracing the bond they felt.
“What about them?” I asked.
“I’ll stay with them until it’s time, do what I can to entice them to stay here and wait for you,” she said, lowering the bloody body to the ground beside the others. “But they’re already dead. Your mate is not.”
The callous words were so unlike the optimistic female I’d come to know through her time with Estrella, but they were the ones I needed to hear at that moment. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have suspected Nila possessed some magic of her own, always knowing the words a person needed to hear at any given moment.
I strode through the doorway, making my way up the steps as quickly as I could manage. I took them two at a time, pausing only for a brief moment at the top to study the halls and whatever action might exist there. They were empty, save for the Lliadhe hustling through them to bring fresh rags and cleaning supplies to rid the floor of bloodstains until Mab’s next massacre. Turning away from the commotion, I made my way down the silent hall with quick steps that aimed not to attract attention to myself.
The entrance to the narrow passage that led beneath Tar Mesa was closed, the broad figure of a daemon standing guard. My heart sank with the realization that Mab had retained enough of her logic to remember to do this, to guard the place that I would be sure to go now that I was free from the dungeon.
The daemon and I made eye contact, holding one another’s stares. I considered my options as I strode past him, trying not to attract further suspicion or attention.
If I was going to fight my way through a daemon, I needed to come up with a fucking plan for it. Otherwise it wouldn’t end any better than it had that night in the cove when the daemon had found Estrella, damn near killing both of us.
I continued to the stairs at the other side of the palace, planning to circle around rather than passing by that passage all over again so soon. There was one phrase in my head, a mantra that I couldn’t ignore as I considered my options, beating them around in my head and hoping one of them could stand the abuse.
I was no use to her dead or imprisoned.
I was no use to her dead or imprisoned.
I needed a fucking plan, and I needed it fast.