Chapter Twenty-Three
There was a high-pitched ringing in my ears, temples pounding with spell withdrawal, tongue dry and stuck to the roof of my mouth. Everything sounded muffled, as if my head was submerged in water.
‘Kat !’ someone called beside me, making me flinch away from the sound. Even the slightest movement hurt. It was William, calling my name.
‘Shhh,’ I hissed, opening my eyes, trying to blink the spots from my vision. ‘I’m awake, William.’
‘Thank the ancestors.’
I blinked the murkiness from my vision realising I wasn’t face down in the dirt of that forest. No. We were both sitting on what appeared to be dining chairs, hands bound in our laps. William was covered in dirt, twigs stuck in his hair and tangled around his horns. His cloak was missing and his shirt torn, face horridly pale with worry and pain.
We were in a large room with sparce bookshelves, a piano and a seating area before a flaring hearth.
The horrid sweetness of saints’ oil and incense was thick in the air. I straightened instantly, sensing a threat in the mere presence of such things.
Glass cases were spaced about, as if holding great works of art, but inside they were littered with war artefacts – tapestries and weapons used by various fey tribes, trophies of conquest.
A collection of beautiful ball masks was pinned to the far wall, their ribbons vibrant and intricately embroidered, but the masks themselves were dull and cracked. Fey flesh that had begun to peel and decay with time. Masks the King would commission for his balls.
Repulsed, I turned to the large marble fireplace, only to see the head of a valek mounted on the wall, its beak wide open in an eternal scream of torment.
Maybe this was a nightmare after all. I remembered the caymor, the smoke incantation and the dark coldness of the pit.
I’d allowed them to catch me once more.
‘Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll do the talking.’ William dragged in a deep, pained breath. ‘Emrys will be here shortly. He has a habit of turning up when you need him.’
Emrys.
My heart sank to the pit of my stomach at his name. Emrys was a mortal man of flesh and blood and not some form of wish-granting spectre who turned up unannounced. No matter how many times he had done it to me recently.
No, we were on our own and in trouble from the look of the two men stood across from us in crisp liveries. Thankfully not Council hunters or guards, they rented out their services to lords who had issues with fey.
‘Listen, gentlemen, there has been a terrible misunderstanding,’ William began, his smile nervous, as a mere movement made him wince with pain.
‘I’m sure there has,’ came a cold voice from behind us in response.
A tall, heavyset blond man walked into view. A mere click of his fingers sent our guards away as he stood before us. He had the presence of a lord, but there was nothing remotely attractive or interesting about him. He was ruddy cheeked and wearing a coat that stretched over his bloated belly. Sweat dampened his forehead, blond hair thinning by the second.
‘I’m William Roydon, Lord Blackthorn’s assistant, and this is—’ William started politely, but the man held his hand up to silence him.
‘What were you doing in Fairfax Wood?’ He folded his arms tightly across his large chest.
In the light of the fire, I saw scarring at the tips of his ears. Someone had cut them to appear mortal. Definitely a lord’s son then, and a failed fey breeding experiment by the resentment in his eyes.
Mortals always did hate the shame of being of fey blood and still not possessing a drop of magic, knowing they were unworthy to wield it despite their title and wealth.
Fairfax Wood.
I didn’t know much about the Fairfaxes apart from their favour with the King and their lack of presence in the Council chambers following his death.
One more thing I now knew about them – they clearly really didn’t like trespassers.
‘We’re investigating the village outside Paxton Fields,’ I explained simply.
‘I heard some commotion from the village about a disturbance,’ the man mused, his gaze drifting to my face and then the curve of my breast that my torn muddy bodice revealed.
‘We need to speak to Lord Fairfax.’ I sat straighter in the chair, forcing myself to feel less groggy.
‘Do you?’ He considered me down his nose, as if I was an amusement.
‘This land is infected with dark magic. He needs to be informed. It’s a matter of great urgency.’
‘How well you monstrous beasts lie,’ he said. His smile was tight with its cruelty, those bloodshot eyes fixed on my lips.
‘She isn’t lying, we—’ William began, but faster than anticipated, the man grabbed his shoulder in threat. William grimaced, colour draining from his face.
‘Leave him alone!’ I snapped, leaning forward and almost burning straight through my bonds. Not caring about the consequences. ‘He’s hurt !’
‘Is he?’ the man replied. A malicious delight playing behind his eyes as the boy cried out before he released him, William panting through his teeth.
Beg me . That voice came back to me now from the darkest depths of my memory. Fear sparked in my heart the same moment magic flared to meet it, but all I could do was curl my fists.
Attacking a lord was a punishable offence, but the hearth crackled, taunting me as he came close to leer over me. Taking hold of my face, his warm stubby fingers, reeking of tobacco, dug into my cheeks.
‘Don’t touch me,’ I bit out between my clenched teeth. That rage simmering in my veins.
The fire surged behind him as I willed it to live for only a moment, forming a monstrous set of jaws that snapped out at him. He jumped away, but not before the flames could catch on the tail of his jacket. A cry left his lips as he stumbled over himself, smacking at the smouldering fabric.
William gasped, eyes wide.
‘Bitch,’ the man hissed through his teeth. He lurched towards me, a trail of smoke behind him. I could have broken my bonds, should have, but I was frozen in place. Knowing all the things I wasn’t allowed to do. Knowing that if I struck him … I wouldn’t stop.
I flinched, eyes shut and ready for the strike, certain it wouldn’t be close to the worst I’d endured.
William made a noise of surprise, and then there was a large crash. My eyes opened to see the man was half sprawled on the chaise across from us, the low table broken and his clothes in disarray.
A chill bit at my skin, the fire in the hearth almost extinguished, and there standing over him, like a beast over prey, was Emrys.
As if I’d conjured him.
His dark coat open, only a loose shirt beneath, plastered to his skin with the rain. His riding trousers and boots were speckled with mud as his hair dripped water onto the carpet. Every annoyed breath from his lips forced the transparent fabric of his shirt to cling to the muscular expanse of his chest.
Maybe this was a dream after all.
‘You don’t touch her.’ Emrys’s voice was filled with lethal intent.
‘Blackthorn!’ The man spluttered using the chaise to push himself up, shoes sliding on the polished floor. ‘What on earth are you doing!?’
‘You should be grateful I don’t maim you further, Lord Percy,’ Emrys sneered in response, his voice unfamiliar to me in its rage. A feral nature to his expression and I was glad I was already seated.
‘She burnt me,’ Lord Percy protested, getting to his feet and tugging at his jacket.
‘Count your blessings I don’t do worse.’ Emrys hands formed fists. Dark tendrils seemed to appear in the air around him, but they vanished when I blinked, making me wonder just how hard I hit my head in those ruins.
‘What’s happening, Jonathan?’ came the croaked call of an old man. He stood in the doorway, weedy and holding onto a cane for support. He was clean shaven, with a shock of bright white hair, and stood hunched over his walking stick. Fine clothes of velvet and gold glimmered under the firelight as he hobbled into the room.
‘ Trespassers , Uncle,’ Lord Percy sneered, running an unsteady hand through his thinning hair.
‘Lord Blackthorn?’ the old man asked, coming to a stop before myself and William. I could only imagine what a sorry sight we both looked, covered in mud, semi-conscious and tied up.
‘My assistant, Mr Roydon, and my partner mage, Miss Woodrow, Lord Fairfax,’ Emrys said, and bowed to the old lord, gesturing to each of us.
The old man took me in with kind, confused eyes, but it did little to settle me.
‘There has been a misunderstanding.’ William smiled nervously, trying to get comfortable in his chair.
‘This all seems a bit much for trespassing, Jonathan.’ Fairfax frowned.
‘Suspicion of murder too,’ Lord Percy pressed, that sly smile coming back as Emrys’s stiff gaze darted to his face.
He had a mere moment before his expression shifted to indifference once more.
‘Now I’m interested in seeing how you managed that,’ Emrys replied dryly, his eyes finally meeting my own, jet black with fury, and I had the good sense to be worried.
‘We didn’t kill anyone; he was already dead when I landed on him,’ William protested, his voice a little higher than I think he intended. ‘There was a dark fiend, too.’
‘My men didn’t see anything when they located the trespassers,’ Lord Percy mocked.
‘You should be grateful I already contained it.’ I glared at Lord Percy, a ferocity he returned. I wondered if I could get away with summoning another fire beast in the present company but decided against it. That might push Emrys over the edge.
‘Well, we should be grateful for your help, Miss Woodrow.’ Lord Fairfax cleared his throat, stepping forward to address us fully. His gaze then darting to someone behind me in the doorway. ‘Show Mr Roydon to the healing room.’
‘I’ll take care of Mr Roydon, thank you, Lord Fairfax,’ Emrys interrupted before any form of servant could enter. ‘If you don’t mind, I need a moment alone with my partner mage.’
‘Of course.’ Fairfax tried to bow but his clear ill health hindered him. ‘I’ll have the guest rooms drawn up immediately.’
‘Uncle,’ Lord Percy objected, but Fairfax already had his hand up in protest.
‘That won’t be necessary,’ Emrys interjected.
‘I insist. Poor Mr Roydon needs his rest and it’s the least we can offer as an apology for this misunderstanding. In fact, you can stay as long as you’d like. Surely being in comfort while you investigate such horrid claims is for the best.’
Guest rooms? My focus darted to Emrys, a panic rising in my chest, but he wasn’t looking at me. No, he was straight backed and cold faced, considering the lord as if they were at a dinner discussing current affairs.
‘Of course,’ Emrys relented, although there was a stiffness to his words that told me there was no point in protesting.
‘That settles it then.’ Fairfax grinned, turning his attention to me. ‘A pleasure to meet you, Miss Woodrow.’
I should have said something, but I was still struggling with my disbelief. Emrys couldn’t mean we were staying here.
‘Come, Jonathan,’ Lord Fairfax ordered as he left.
Lord Percy muttered under his breath as he stormed from the room after his elderly uncle.
‘I’m sorry Emrys’ we—’ William began, looking like he wished the ground would swallow him up as the door closed behind us. But I wasn’t in the mood for grovelling.
‘Is Alma all right?’ I demanded, remaining in my chair as Emrys’s attention focused on me.
‘I don’t think you’re the one who should be asking questions,’ he replied coldly, still a threatening figure as he pulled off his coat, letting it drop heavily to the floor as the fire struggled to overcome his arrival. The fabric of his shirt was plastered to his forearms, showing the definition of his biceps and the scars that covered them.
‘Don’t be too cross with her, Emrys, she’s only just been able to wake up,’ William threw in, trying to be helpful. ‘That fiend didn’t half crack her head against the stone.’
Emrys went tense, jaw tight as his hands curled into fists as the fire gutted out. Something working behind his dark eyes at William’s words.
‘I surged to my feet, effortlessly turning my bonds to nothing but ash, which fell to the threadbare carpet. Something is wrong with those woods, and I think a dead body justifies our investigation.’
‘A body you’re a suspect in murdering, unless you missed that part,’ he fired back, taunting me, and for a moment, I hated him.
‘Don’t be absurd . We didn’t murder anybody !’ I snapped. ‘And if we hadn’t found it first, that caymor would have eaten all the evidence.’
‘She has a point,’ William offered weakly, still clutching his injured arm and looking paler by the second.
Emrys’s dark gaze flickered to his assistant, and I stepped forward, going boot to boot with him, forcing him to focus on me. ‘Don’t you dare be annoyed with William; he’s been through enough.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about that, Miss Woodrow. My annoyance is solely focused on you .’
‘What else was I supposed to do?’ I challenged. If he didn’t have horrible unannounced guests that lurked in the dark and made it impossible for me to sleep, I wouldn’t have gone looking for trouble.
The thought of Montagor only reminded me just how enraged I was with Emrys now that my wallowing was done. How dare he leave me to that man.
‘Wait? ’ His tone remained dry, which only heightened my anger.
‘I don’t sit awaiting your command. Fey are dying.’
‘I doubt you’ll be much use to them after getting soul-snatched,’ he pressed, leaning closer so I could see every angry speck of darkness in his eyes.
I laughed dryly at the ridiculousness of the suggestion. ‘Don’t be dramatic. The creature was half asleep.’
‘It was an ancient being with a hunger for fey blood, and you offered yourself up on a plate.’
‘I think the dusty remains of it would disagree with that, Lord Blackthorn ,’ I seethed.
His stern face became flushed as his temper grew. ‘Do you know how worried I—’
‘I’m much recovered, thank you for the concern !’ I shouted back. ‘Next time you should give warning in your partnership agreements that you relish hideous guests who can do as they please to whomever they so desire !’
‘He wasn’t my guest.’ He had the audacity to sound offended. ‘He came seeking some sick entertainment.’
‘And he found it, didn’t he?’
‘That wasn’t supposed to happen.’ A softness lay in his voice that I wouldn’t allow to distract me. ‘If you think I’d let him—’
‘Well, you did,’ I snapped, not quite able to pull in a measured breath as my voice broke.
He froze at the words, as if they’d physically struck him. His fury guttered out as quickly as the fire. Something else burning in his eyes.
‘You think I enjoyed any moment of letting him hurt you like that?’ Those words were quiet with regret.
‘It wouldn’t be the first time someone has.’ My breath trembled slightly. A deep pain blossoming in my chest because I didn’t know the truth. ‘Only I didn’t trust them so foolishly.’
I pressed my palm against his wet chest, hoping to push him away, to free myself, but he captured it, keeping it trapped against the hard texture of him, forcing me to remain. To look at him.
His breath brushed my lips with how close we were standing, two hot-headed fools half panting. I wanted to push him away, to shake him and pull truths from his lips, and I knew he wanted the same from me. Could see it in the sorrowful soft grey of his eyes.
‘Kat,’ he whispered making my name sound like a plea. His free hand moving the hair behind my ear, his eyes at my temple, where the worst of my pain was at present. His jaw tightening, eyes darkening to nothing but black.
‘Now isn’t this scandalous !’ came a cheery male voice.
I stumbled away from Emrys, almost crashing into William as I turned to see a tall, attractive man, shirt partially unbuttoned, but still dressed in evening attire, leaning against the wall next to the closed door. He had tanned skin, dark auburn hair swept back from his perfect face, his strange amber eyes filled with mischief. Like he’d been there the whole time as a witness and loved every minute of it.
‘Who—’ I began but a strange sensation brushed over my skin, stopping me. The furniture in the room seemed to creak as if a storm had come rumbling from above.
‘Emrys,’ William half groaned in warning. Emrys’s eyes were jet black, and his lips slightly curled in fury. In the space of a heartbeat, he had lunged to pin the stranger against the wall, his shirt straining with the ferocity of it. The impact rattled the wall-mounted cabinet above, vulgar fey trophies tumbling to the ground.
‘Emrys !’ William cried, almost falling over his chair in his haste to stop the brawl. He tried to lurch forward, but bowed over in pain as he gripped at his side.
‘William !’ I caught him, supporting his weight as he panted for breath.
Emrys and the new arrival didn’t notice.
‘You’ve picked the wrong evening to anger me, Thean,’ Emrys warned, a vulgar and feral nature to his tone.
‘You wouldn’t hit a woman, would you, Emrys?’ the man taunted, his smile sharp, revealing fanged teeth.
Then he wasn’t a man. He shifted effortlessly, in the space of a moment, into a woman with the same wicked grin, one too familiar to me. That red hair now long and cascading over their shoulders, and the shirt that Emrys bunched in his fists almost revealed breasts where the fabric had been torn. Those dark marks, too, I’d seen before on their skin.
‘ You ,’ I breathed.
Emrys went completely still. A tension rolling off him that should have made me regret the words as he pulled back slowly from the stranger.
‘You? How do you know them?’ William asked, his eyes darted to my face.
‘They … she … I …’ I stumbled over my words. Not knowing which pronoun was appropriate to use.
‘Call me whatever you like, darling. I’m too old to care.’ The stranger half purred, mirth practically gleaming in their gaze.
‘They were outside the healing house, by the woods,’ I continued, confused by the creature’s impossible appearance and Emrys animosity towards the being.
‘I needed to catch your attention somehow.’ They grinned wickedly, pressing two palms to Emrys’s chest, pushing him back easily. Their grin did not diminish as those bright amber eyes flickered to me once more. ‘Maybe I need to get some bigger ears. You seem quite … enthralled with them, my lord.’
I felt William’s attention come back to my face, and it took everything to control my reaction, to keep my gaze forward.
‘What are you doing here, Thean?’ William asked, standing upright with my help.
‘You’re looking well, dear William,’ she said, and The creature called Thean grinned suggestively at the boy.
‘Don’t talk to him.’ Emrys’ hands formed fists once more. Ready to attack again.
‘ Jealous , darling Emrys?’ They teased, relishing in his annoyance, leaning forward to antagonise him further.
‘I’m not here to play games, Thean,’ he warned.
‘You should have listened to me then,’ They taunted, head lolling to one side gracefully. ‘I told you the reanimations of dead fey would come next. That land has been sick too long.’
There was a sharpness to their smile, the presence of their fangs and the ease of their shifting of forms. Something I should never have missed.
A voyav. A cursed form changer.
‘Voyav.’ The name left my lips in the old fey language before I could stop it. A changeling, a being without name in mortal tongue, a dark magic that had existed longer than the records. Voyav were a tribe of Verr, devoid of form, who grew tired of war and wickedness, bonding themselves to mortal flesh to survive the sealing of the earth. Beings that could feast off fey blood and pull the magic from it for their own use.
Beings the Verr sought revenge against and that fey had mistrusted for centuries. The closest creature I’d ever found to Alma’s own magic. However, voyavs were limited to human forms. Or so the stories said.
Their attention snapped to me, a cruelty coming over those female features as the voyav took me in.
‘How do you know that? About the reanimations?’ I demanded.
‘I was there when it happened last time, darling. Right before the uprising,’ They shrugged, their focus returning to Emrys. ‘Back when our handsome lord here used to listen to warnings.’
‘How did you infiltrate Fairfax’s house?’ Emrys demanded, his voice returning to the cold disinterest I’d heard him use before.
The voyav leant back on the wall, as if they had all the time in the world to toy with him. Unbothered by those almost exposed breasts. ‘I knew you’d come here eventually. Especially when your beautiful Kysillian friend set her eyes on that wood. From her Council records she has a habit of causing trouble.’
‘Her name is Katherine,’ William said sharply, offended on my behalf.
‘Oh, I know her name.’ Thean smiled, a malice in it I understood instantly. This strange creature shouldn’t know anything about me. Voyav were dangerous.
‘You’ll do well to forget it,’ Emrys half growled, stepping closer to them once more, but all it did was sharpen the being’s smile.
‘Where would be the fun in that?’ Thean said, grinning teased.
Kyvor Mor. That dark fiend’s voice came back into my head, warning me with all the secrets I’d already given away.
A knocking came at the door, forcing us all apart and to pretend to have some form of decorum. Everyone but Thean, at least, who still lounged back against the sideboard, breasts almost exposed, before slipping back into male form effortlessly.
A housekeeper entered with a sullen expression and sharp features. Her grey hair brushed harshly from her thin face.
‘The room is ready for Miss Woodrow,’ was all she said, and I knew in that moment my fate was sealed. We were trapped here.