Chapter Thirty-Two
Why were my fucking fathers here? They should have returned to Bane after we’d set out on our quest, where they’d be safe—at least until the defense spell fell and the Lord of Grimnight invaded. They shouldn’t have been dragged into a cursed forest, chasing after a lie.
My stomach dropped as I saw their bound hands and torn up clothes. Everything I’d done to keep them safe, and they’d still somehow become the Lord of Grimnight’s prisoners.
The orc guards stared at the cells in confusion. When they’d left, there’d been four royal prisoners. Now the only prisoner was their master’s son. “What are you doing in there?”
Dad’s hands subtly slipped out of the ropes binding him. He kept them low as he turned to Kit, blocking his freed hands from view.
I had no idea how they got here or what their plan was, but I could buy them some time.
To distract the minions, I needed to lean into the role of the evil mage’s son again, but I hesitated.
It’d been difficult to let go of Treasure Banes even when I wasn’t staring his father in the face. “I fucked up,” I whispered.
“Well,” the orc said slowly, face soft with sympathy, “we’ll get these new prisoners locked up and then we’ll—”
Kit tackled them mid-offer-of-help. The orc was a foot taller than Kit and several pounds heavier, but he hadn’t expected one of his docile prisoners to suddenly fight back.
He yelped in surprise and barely kept his footing as he instinctively wrapped one arm around Kit’s waist. They stumbled to the side and their momentum spun them in a circle, waltzing the pair down the hall.
Dad pulled a pouch from his pack and poured a heavy dose of purple dust into his hand. When the other two orcs lunged at him, he tossed it into their faces.
The orcs cried out in shock as the dust entered their eyes and noses and raised their hands to block any further assaults. After a few seconds, their stances relaxed, and their hands fell to their sides. They stared at Dad with blank eyes.
“Unlock the cell,” Dad ordered.
The orcs’ movements were stiff as they patted down their pants’ pockets, but they didn’t come up with any keys.
Dad cursed, then changed his order, “Go to sleep.”
The orcs lay down in the middle of the hallway, tucked their hands under their heads, and obediently closed their eyes.
I watched the whole scene in shock. “Why do you have fairy dust?” The magical powder could be used to enchant objects to follow commands, but as Dad had just demonstrated, it could also command people.
Dad grinned and tucked the pouch away. “Comes in handy from time to time.”
His cavalier attitude about taking away someone’s autonomy reminded me about the rumors that my dad was evil. Maybe he would understand my choices, even if everyone else saw me as the villain’s pawn.
Father never took his eyes off me, even as Dad untied the ropes binding his wrists. “Are you alright, Trey? Did they hurt you?”
“No. I …” The geas had been broken. I could finally tell him the truth.
What would he do once he knew I wasn’t his son?
I pictured his face crumpling in despair. Every lie I’d told him reflected in his eyes as he tried and failed to think of what to do with me. Maybe he would stay long enough for me to explain. Or maybe he’d walk away, leaving me locked up in here like the others had. Like I deserved.
Tears stung my eyes as fear and regret burrowed into my heart, refusing to be dislodged. “I really, really fucked up.”
“What happened?” Father asked. “Where are the others?”
I latched onto the second question, stalling for time, grasping these last few moments of his fatherly concern. “Upstairs somewhere, trying to break the curse.”
He nodded. “We can’t help you break the curse, but I think we can help you get back to them so you can work together.”
They don’t want my help. “You think?” I asked, brow furrowing in confusion.
Dad sneered. “The Good Wizard’s rules of engagement. The quest only counts for the Kingdom Defense Spell if the current generation of royal champions completes it. We can’t break the curse or fight the evil mage, but we can fight his minions. The apprentice is a gray area.”
I flinched at the mention of Wilde. “You know about the apprentice?”
“Fuck him.”
Probably shouldn’t mention that I already have.
“Kit, stop wrestling the orc and get the keys,” Father called down the hall.
“Like it’s that easy! He’s good.” Frustration and delight mixed in Kit’s voice as another heavy thump followed that pronouncement. They were obviously having fun fighting the minion.
One last grunt came from down the hall, and then footsteps as Kit jogged toward us.
“Got ‘em!”
Kit tossed the keys down the hall, and Father caught them in one hand. He unlocked the cell, threw the door open, and pulled me into a hug. I squeezed him back, clinging onto this moment, knowing it might be the last time.
When I finally let him go, I pulled Dad into a hug next. He laughed happily and ran his hands through my hair, over my shoulders, checking me for injuries. “We’re glad you’re safe,” he whispered.
Kit, not to be outdone, grabbed me next and lifted me off my feet in their enthusiasm. Several vertebrae in my back popped and my arms went numb at my sides. As soon as they set me down, they demanded, “Where’s Delilah?”
“With the others. Or, maybe they split up, I don’t really know.”
“Let’s find her.”
This was probably the last calm moment we’d have together.
The best time for me to explain who I was, everything I’d done, all my reasons.
“I—” Maybe they’ll never find out. Maybe the others will succeed, and the Kingdom Defense Spell won’t fall.
Maybe I can keep being their son. It took every ounce of my will to force past the maybes and finish the sentence. “I have something to say.”
“Is now really the time—oof!” Kit glared at Dad’s elbow jabbed into their ribs.
“Go ahead, son,” Father said, his voice soft and encouraging. “Tell us whatever you need to.”
Hearing ‘son’ from his mouth almost broke me. “I’m not your son,” my voice cracked on the word ‘son.’ “I never was. It was a lie from the beginning.”
Brendon Banes stared at me without saying a word. Kit’s eyes widened and they opened their both to speak, but Dad—Rick—dug his elbow in further.
“Ouch! Stop doing that!” Kit hissed, batting at his hand.
The weight of Brendon’s stare squeezed the words out of me.
“When I was nine years old, my father—the Lord of Grimnight, though he didn’t get the title until later—discovered that I could enter the Desolated Lands.
He knew a little bit about the kingdoms, enough to know about the Prince of Bane’s reputation, and that he had red hair.
” I tugged a lock of hair, the same shade as his, hard enough to make my scalp sting.
“He needed someone on the inside, someone who could help him destroy the Desolated Lands’ defenses so he could invade. ”
I waited. For condemnation. For hate. For any fucking reaction at all. I got none of it, so I plunged on ahead. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but he’d bound me with a geas, and every time I tried, I spilled other secrets.”
“Oh, is that why you—” It was Kit’s turn to elbow Rick, but that might have been as much about revenge as him breaking the silence.
“I’m not working with him, I promise. I’m just … I don’t know what to do.” The tears I’d been holding back slipped past my defenses in a cold trail down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry I lied to you. I hope you don’t hate me—”
Brendon pulled me into another hug, the embrace so tight it paused the breath in my lungs. “You don’t have to be blood to be my son,” he whispered in my ear.
Tears streamed from my eyes, but I couldn’t help clutching him back, hiding my face against his chest. “I lied to you. You should be angry with me.”
“I am,” he said, squeezing me tighter until I could barely breathe. “I am so angry that you’ve been put in this position. You were only nine when you came to us. I don’t know what kind of life you had before, but that alone tells me you needed a better one. I hope we provided that for you.”
“You did.” A woefully inadequate response for how strong of an impression he’d had on my life.
Snot and tears gathered on my face, soaking his shirt.
“And I love you, for that and everything else.” I pulled away from him.
For a moment, he tried to hold on, then he let me go.
“I will explain everything, I promise. But first we need to—”
“What’s going on here?”
One of the lacertian’s stood at the end of the hall, gaping at the scene. The sleeping orcs at our feet stirred from the interruption, mumbling sleepy noises. Kit vaulted over them, hands outstretched toward the minion.
The lacertian yelped and scrambled backwards. “The prisoners have escaped!”
If they barred the door, we’d still be trapped in the dungeon even if we weren’t locked in a cell.
Our heart-to-heart cut short, I raced after Kit and the minion. The orcs tossed and turned in their magically induced sleep, creating a small space I could squeeze between.
Kit had caught the lacertian and put them in a headlock. The lacertian reached behind them to fight Kit off, their claws scraping against the metal helmet. Beneath the visor, Kit’s eyes narrowed in a smug grin.
Behind me, I could hear the orcs waking, calling out in confused voices. When I turned to look, I saw their huge bodies blocking the path. My fathers hadn’t made it past them yet and were caught in another fight.
“Go!” Father called, waving me on. “We’ll distract the guards.”
“Focus on breaking the curse!” Dad yelled. He held a long, pronged rod at his side that sparked a dangerous red. He jabbed it toward one of the orc guards, who yelped and leapt away.
They were fighting so hard to give me this chance, and I didn’t even care about the stupid curse. But I did care about Delilah and the others, fighting their way through an evil lair. I cared about Wilde, trying to defend his master and his livelihood. I cared about keeping all of them safe.
I left my family to distract the minions and ran up the stairs. Vines tangled in my feet and around my ankles, trying to slow me down. I yanked my foot away and ripped the vines apart with each step.
Once I reached the top of the stairs, it wasn’t hard to find where everyone had gone.
All I had to do was follow the sounds of fighting.