29. The Nightmare Prince
Chapter 29
“Have you seen the princess?” I took hold of a gardener’s arm.
The man wiped damp off his long hair from the rain. “No, can’t say I have.”
Skadi was not in her side of the chamber, not in the great hall, nor the gardens. Dorsan was nowhere to be found, and there was a heat in my blood that something was not right. I strode toward the front of the palace.
Heavy sheets of rain pounded against the glass panes of every window and dark skies let out the anger of the gods with booming thunder.
I took a few steps up a spiral staircase until I could peer out one of the lancet windows. Only some of the staff raced across the front drive of the grounds, seeking refuge from the storm.
Where the hells was my wife?
A side door crashed open. Sander was soaked from his pale tunic to his hair, slicked to his brow from the storm.
And he wasn’t alone. Dorsan wiped his eyes free of water.
“Jonas.” Sander lengthened his strides. “Did Skadi return?”
“Return from where? I’ve been looking for her.”
“Dammit.” Sander dragged his hand over his soaked hair. “She left at least three clock tolls ago a little upset.”
Dorsan stepped forward. “I might know why. She inquired on the condition of the alliance where she was given the choice to return to her former betrothal. She mentioned something about it being prudent for you, Prince Jonas, to keep her comfortable in that time, and she left shortly after.”
“I met her in the stables during my inventory,” Sander explained. “Now it makes a bit more sense. I think she’s under the belief you might be showing her affection merely to keep her from Arion. She said something about not wanting to be a prize.”
Bleeding hells. “And you let her leave during a storm?”
Sander’s fist shoved against my chest, eyes narrowed. “I’m not an imbecile. It wasn’t raining at the time, but I wasn’t going to chain her to a post when she insisted she wanted a bit of time to think on her own.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“All right, we need to find her. The storm might have her trapped out there.” I looked to the elven guard. “Dorsan how well do you ride?”
“Impeccably, sire.”
“Then prepare horses. I’ll get others to start the search.”
Sander followed Dorsan back into the storm. I rushed deeper into the palace. A panic took hold deep in my chest, making breath difficult to draw. Not unexpected, not after the ferocity of the mesmer fever. Images of Skadi trapped, sobbing, hurt, flashed through my mind until my movements were made on instinct.
I never wanted this, but it couldn’t be denied—I’d fallen for my wife, and I could not lose her.
“Anything?” My voice roared over the rage of the storm, aimed at a copse of evergreens.
“Not yet,” Raum shouted back. He urged his horse forward, deeper into the wood of Jagged Grove.
Skadi, where the hells are you? I kicked my heels against my own gelding and tugged the woolen hood over my eyes to keep the rain off.
It was rather pointless.
Gusts of wind and rain lashed against our faces, slowing our pace, and dimming our vision. A dozen riders joined me into the trees, my father and his guild included. Raum’s uncanny sight gave us a chance at spotting her, but my father’s mesmer to sense individual fear would hopefully catch hold soon.
“Skadi!” Von shouted against the wind.
More joined. Back and forth we called for her, but only angry skies responded.
Black spilled into my gaze, my skin felt too flushed for the chill of the air. Not here. Gods, when fear grew too swiftly, my mesmer turned inward, feasting on my own despair until fevers took hold again.
“Jonas.” My father rode to my side. “You need to fight it.”
“I’m trying,” I gritted out through my teeth.
He used his chin to point toward the wetlands. “This way.”
“You feel something?”
“It’s faint.”
I didn’t bleeding care and forced my horse deeper into the wood.
“Ahead!” Raum shouted.
Ten breaths, fifteen, and a frightened snort came from shadows. One of the palace mares paced between trees, terrified of the wind and rain, and without a rider.
Ash was the first to reach the creature, clicking his tongue, and taking hold of the bridle until the mare settled.
“Jonas.” Sander brought his horse beside mine. “This area is filled with burrows. Troll folk enjoy the ponds.”
True enough. Mira’s kingdom had a great many faeish creatures and troll folk were some. They traveled between the kingdoms in underground burrows that were deep and damn near impossible to escape alone.
Most did not find our lands appealing with the chill and the mists, but King Ari would send missives through the burrows with the troll folk when he wanted to irritate my father by tilling up our land.
I kicked my horse, urging him forward, until the pond came into view. Mud and tall reeds shrouded the sides, but there were mounds from old burrows all around the banks. If someone—a foreign elven princess, perhaps—did not know what to look for, the burrows would be easy enough to fall into.
I slid off the back of my horse and sprinted for one of the mounds, looking for an opening. “Skadi!”
Please be here.
The storm wasn’t letting up, and the thought of her being lost in the grove through the night brought bile to my throat.
“There is more fear than ours here.”
I hadn’t realized my father was on foot. He looked side to side, no doubt trying to find the source of his mesmer. Our fear. It was Kase Eriksson’s subtle way of admitting the household of the Black Palace cared for Skadi.
When my father gestured to one of the mounds on the other side of the pond, I didn’t wait before running across the slick, mossy soil. A sunken bit of earth revealed an opening. Water cascaded along the edges, clods of thick mud falling inside.
Careful not to sink into the tunnel, I moved gently to the edge and peered in. “Skadi?”
Nothing.
Damn the hells. “Skadi, are you there? Answer me.”
“She’s there.” Raum hovered over my shoulder, his silver eyes bright with his mesmer. “Caught sight of her dress in the dark. She’s around a bend. Not sure she can hear you with all this.” The Kryv waved his palms about, gesturing at the storm.
I cursed and started to leverage my legs over the sides.
“Jonas,” My father snapped. “These tunnels are prone to cave-ins.”
“Then be ready to pull us out,” I shot back. “I’m not leaving her down there, and nor would you if this was Maj.”
He could not argue the truth of it. With a rough wave of his hand, the king called for ropes and spades we carried in saddle packs, he called for everyone to be ready to dig us out if the Norns chose to bury us inside.
I slipped into the tunnel. Raum guided me with my hand and foot placements until swampy earth touched my boots.
Heavy falls of soil and rain already coated my face and shoulders. Another breath and a wrapped torch fell into the hole. I caught hold of the handle, then a thick leather satchel with the flint inside.
Elixirs always coated our torches, keeping them flammable even in storms. It wasn’t long before a spark caught hold and ignited the wide tunnel in a golden beam.
Long, claw marks marred the thick walls from the trolls. Based on the roots and narrowing corners, this burrow hadn’t been claimed in a turn or two.
“Skadi!”
A sharp draw of breath drew me to a rounded alcove in the tunnel.
“Gods.” I rammed the handle of the torch into soft soil and knelt in the alcove.
Skadi was there, soaked through her gown. Her silver hair was crusted over her brow and the blue of her eyes was dim. She hugged her knees to her chest, shivering in the cold.
“Fire.” I reached out a hand. “Come on. Let me get you home.”
A gleam of brighter blue flashed in her eyes. She furrowed her brow. “Jonas?”
Her affinity. Good hells, she’d been trying to fade into the numbness of her mist. It was no wonder Daj couldn’t sense her fear until we drew so close; she was concealing it.
I rested a hand on her knee.
Skadi jolted and in another moment flung her arms around my neck. “Jonas. I tried to pull the walls apart, I tried to get out, but it started crumbling. I . . . thought it might bury me. I couldn’t get out.”
I held her close against my chest, stroking the back of her hair. “It’s all right, Fire. We found you.”
Skadi’s shoulders shook, from the cold or emotion, I didn’t know. She didn’t release my neck when I scooped her up and made our way back to the opening. Raum caught sight of us before we were beneath the hole and summoned the ropes.
Violent shudders rolled through Skadi’s frigid limbs when I secured a loop under her legs and placed her palms around the rope.
“Can you hold it?”
She lifted her weary eyes, water from the surface still spilled around us, but she nodded.
I pressed a kiss to the center of her brow, knowing she’d left the palace in distress, knowing it would have broken me if she had never returned. With a tug on the rope, the others lifted her from the tunnel.
Skadi was already draped in a thick woolen cloak by the time I was pulled out. I leveraged her onto my horse between my arms, and made certain her face was shielded. She nestled against me.
“A little longer, Fire,” I whispered.
“I . . . hate . . . that I’ve caused . . . more trouble,” she said through the chatter of her teeth.
“Hells, woman, I hope you never stop.” I tightened one arm around her waist, holding her closer. “Life would officially be dull without you.”
I thought she might’ve chuckled—or perhaps another shiver—but she went quiet, keeping her cheek against my heart the entire journey back to the palace.