54. The Nightmare Prince
Chapter 54
Blood coated Skadi’s wrists, a bruise was forming on her cheek. She’d been touched, and I would take the fingers of the ones who’d done it bit by bit—pluck the fingernails first, peel the skin next, then cut through the bone.
Logic reminded me our time apart was brief, but it did not diminish the damage done. The elven fatally underestimated my affections for my wife. Where they thought they could return to the far seas, prepare over time to face the frustrations of the alver clans, now they would realize their mistake.
Within a single night, they had left their marks on Skadi’s skin. Doing so sealed their deaths, and brought a new battle they could not win to their gates.
Bells and warnings rang out from the palace walls. Our people were tucked behind trees and shrubs. If I did not already know the curious nature of Natthaven, I might think myself a bit mad. When another onslaught of elven arrows rained over our heads, the limbs thickened, trunks widened, mounds shifted in the soil.
The isle had chosen its side, and I looked forward to the moment the kings realized they did not stand a chance.
My father stepped out into the front of the line when the final arrow thudded into the soil. He shook out his hands. “I wanted a peaceful night and they had to go start a damn war.”
From one of the parapets, a warrior with a gilded helmet aimed his arrow at the king. “Alver clans, our king is willing to re-negotiate our alliance in peace. Continue your attack, and you will not leave our isle without grave losses.”
“Did he call it their isle?” Skadi curled her fists, the blaze in her eyes like a bursting star.
I chuckled and stepped beside my father. “I believe you’ve mistakenly claimed this land. This land does not belong to the Ljosalfar.”
The warrior aimed his arrow at me. “Highness, you are requested to meet with the king. You’ll receive reparations for your troubles.”
“I hope you are not referring to my wife as part of my trouble.”
“The future king of the elven clans has claimed the princess as his wife, but we do wish to keep the alliance of peace.”
Skadi emerged from the trees, waves of her affinity rolling over her palms. “I am not Arion’s wife, and I never will be.”
The warrior frantically shouted for aim to be leveled at the princess. Skadi raised one hand. It was too swift, but where her affinity was cradled in her palm, now dark mists coated the guard’s bow and the arrow until there was nothing but damp air left behind.
“They’re all quite afraid to die.” My father looked at Skadi, a cruel sort of sneer on his face.
She did not hesitate. “Such a pity for them, Daj.”
Shadows snaked around the throats of elven guards along the wall. Stun and fear was written on every face. They tried to flee, but the shadows spread, adding their ankles and shoulders to the web of mesmer.
For a pause, my father inspected his work, then gave a swift tilt to his head. The movement seemed so simple, like it was nothing, but every coil of darkness twisted the throats of the Ljosalfar guards in sick cracks.
Skadi let out a shuddering cry when nearly twenty men toppled in one blow. The ones fortunate enough to make out with their lives, fled the walls, shouting warnings of an attack.
“I warned you, Fire. You belong to a land of nightmares now.”
“And I have never been more at home.” She blew out a trembling breath, unsettled by the gore dripping off the walls of her palace, but straightened her spine and raised her palms. The mists of her affinity coated the ground like poison in the grass. “There are innocent elven within these walls. If you can, allow them to live.”
Mists painted the palace wall like iridescent ropes, fading away stones one by one. She drew in a sharp breath, jaw tight as her affinity worked to pull away the barrier.
Screams rose in the palace when the walls shuddered.
The sound of stones scraping over stones shook the night. Skadi winced. I went to her side, placed a hand on the small of her back, and held her steady until a gaping, crumbling gap was left in the side of the palace.
Crouched in the now exposed corridors were elven servants, covering their heads against falling stones and sconces. A few inner warriors of the Ljosalfar clans tried to use their own magic to summon the flames of outer torches, desperate to light our clan aflame.
Skadi devoured the fire with the swipe of her palm. There was a tremble to her hand. No mistake the lingering impact of those damn bands on her wrists left her fatigued.
I shoved a second dagger into her palm. “Blades for now, Fire.”
We raced into the palace, shoulder to shoulder.
My clan were not graceful fighters. We did not study every elegant step to take, nor which strike would fit terrain or blade. We fought wickedly and brutally.
Elven folk raced for alcoves and chambers, screaming when their halls were invaded. They were accustomed to poise and prestige. Alvers and fae raided with blood on their faces and howls of delight for bloodshed over their lips.
In one corridor, Von stuck close to Aleksi. When Alek would use his glamour to summon the blood in a warrior’s veins, holding him in place, Von shoved foaming powders down their throats until they choked on their own blood, or made messier work of spilling innards.
The Kryv were masters at cornering their playthings, then torturing with their mesmer.
Bard and Ash kept close to each other, both Rifters, they snapped thighs and shins, breastbones and cracked ribs in two. Tova perched on one of the stairwells firing arrows into the chaos with Junius and Lynx.
My mother and father rarely raised blades anymore. Two formidable forces careened into the center of battles, slaughtering side by side. Most folk feared death. Daj could grant it to them. My mother seemed unassuming, but the slightest brush of her fingertips across an opponent and they tumbled forward, uncertain how to walk, how to lift a sword. Dead before they reached the ground when another knife from another hand would finish the bloody work.
The elven palace was lost in beautiful madness.
Skadi struck at a Ljosalfar warrior, dodging his blows. She parried, he jabbed.
On the first step to go to her aid, and I was met with my own battle. A burly warrior with a gold ring dangling from each ear and blood on his gleaming tunic.
“Hello, there.” I rolled my sword in my grip.
The warrior cried out as he leveled a sturdy strike toward my middle. I spun away and crashed the edge of my sword down on his. I kicked at the man’s knee, bending it awkwardly. He cursed me and stepped back to reset his position.
“You should leave with your restitution, alver prince.” The guard backed up, but tightened his hold on his own weapon. “Prince, it is in your best interests to give the queen to her own people.”
He made a sloppy strike for my neck.
I dodged and shouted loud enough my voice rose over the clang of steel against steel. “Fire! I have a question.”
“Now?” Skadi managed to catch her warrior’s shoulder.
“As good a time as any.”
I could practically hear her exasperation.
“What is the”—she grunted and spun out of a blade lock with the guard—“question?”
“Why”—I struck, my warrior dodged— “does this sod call you queen already?”
Skadi sliced and cut her daggers, ripping open the side of her warrior’s face with a deep strike. She kicked out one of his feet, knocking him to the ground.
When she pressed her boot over his chest, she paused to look back at me. “Eldirard crowned me.”
I ducked another feckless strike. My opponent seemed to be weary. I could use it. My strikes quickened. They kept to his weaker side, until he was panting and a glimmer of fear took hold of his gaze.
“Where is the deceitful king?”
Skadi cried out when she rammed her dagger into the chest of her warrior. She ripped the blade free and spun around. “Dead.”
When the elven standing against me stumbled, I palmed his face, forcing the most horrific ways he would die into his mind—torture, severed tongues, plucked bones—until he screamed and the nightmares started to rot his mind.
I cut my sword over his throat.
With the back of my hand, I wiped sweat off my brow in time for another warrior to take the fight with me.
“And . . .” My sword crashed with the elven. He moved swifter than the first, seemed thirstier for blood. “How are we feeling about the death?”
“Conflicted.” Skadi shoved a new man off the point of her dagger she had rammed in his belly.
“Understood.”
“I’m glad you do.”
“Your happiness is always my desire.”
“As it should be.”
“Agreed.” I threw a small knife, lodging it into the back of a fleeing guard.
“Jonas?”
“Fire?”
Skadi spun around to avoid another blow. The man was screaming and tormented in his head. A clear sign of Sander being nearby, corrupting memories with fear. She ended up chest to chest with me. Breaths were harsh between us, sweat and blood painted our skin. There had never been a more stunning sight.
Skadi leaned close. “Just once, give me the last word.”
An elven warrior let out a battle roar and raced for us. We stepped apart.
I kicked out a foot, catching his ankle. The man stumbled forward, sprawled out on his stomach. Before he could take another breath, Skadi dug her dagger into the back of his throat.
I gripped her arm and spun her into me, grinning. “Never.”
Our people shoved through the elven warriors. Skadi took my hand and pointed toward the king’s throne room. “Gerard and Arion were gathering there before they locked me in Arion’s chamber.”
A ruthless kind of hate took hold. Something cruel and bloodthirsty. I held her against me, my voice as a broken blade. “Did he touch you beyond the shackles?”
Skadi’s eyes flashed. “No.”
“All I heard was yes.”
A small, villainous grin played on her mouth. “I must’ve misspoken.”
“Flawless as you are, mistakes are bound to happen at times.”
Skadi raced for the door to the throne room, I followed. We weren’t the first inside. Bursts of elixirs snapped and scorched fleeing guards. Rifters twisted spines. Lynx and his calming mesmer had a pile of bodies of those he’d managed to calm into sleep. All their throats were bloodied.
Mesmer was taxing, much like Skadi’s affinity. By now, most elven and alver kept to their blades.
A hand gripped the back of my neck. Sander appeared, soaked in blood from his head to his chin. When he smiled his teeth were stained in red. “Spotted the prince using his flames to pull their guards and the king away. They’re aiming for the shore to flee.”
“No!” Skadi blanched. “They can’t go free, not again.”
I took hold of her hand. “No worries, Fire.”
“Jonas we?—”
“We’ve hit our marks, Wife.” I drew my nose along her damp cheek. “We have them exactly where we want them. Now, it’s time for you to finish this.”