Chapter 4 #2
The truth is that I’m not sure I’d be able to drink the Witch King’s blood if I wasn’t in such a desperate plight. It’s as if the urgency of it pushed me to my limit, pushed me to overcome my revulsion. Now my revulsion is slowly returning, and I think I’m going to puke at any moment.
“Perhaps I should have been clearer.” He pauses.
“I never meant to offend you. You’re right that I’ve tested Marlak by saying offensive words to him, and the truth is that I don’t like him.
But I respect you. And maybe… Maybe this is for the best. But I must stay away from the Witch King, no matter what happens.
I can’t risk being in his vicinity. He’s still gaining power.
There’s magic from the giants and old magic in the Shadow Lands.
Even through the cave, he can absorb it, and he’ll be able to escape soon. ”
I grimace. “Without a head?”
“Without that head. He’ll grow another one or find another body, I don’t even know, but he’s about to escape that prison.”
Escape and probably find the Amethyst Palace and the heart that controls all magic. Terror seizes my body, but I focus on something else instead.
“If he’s going to escape anyway, what was the point in your sacrifice?”
He inhales a sharp breath. “There’s a difference, you see?
One thing is him escaping his prison and advancing to fae lands on foot or something.
It’s bad, sure. Now, being able to transcend anywhere he wants…
That’s terrifying. And I don’t want to be his pawn, don’t want to risk being his puppet, risk killing the people I love. ”
Azur doesn’t strike me as someone who loves anyone, but it’s possible I’m wrong. There is one thing in his words that worries me. “You said you’re bound to him. How come? Will any fae who comes near him suffer the same fate?”
His chuckle is bitter. “No. It’s not…” He closes his eyes, clearly in pain, and yet I don’t know if it’s physical or emotional.
“You don’t have to say it.”
“No. I do. I was born bound to him, just like my father, grandfather, great-grandfather, and so on. Of course, I never thought it would matter. The Witch King was dead, right? Long gone. And yet family bonds remain. It was my ancestor, King Faliel, who not only pledged his own fealty, but pledged the fealty of all his male descendants.”
“I’m sorry for that.”
Azur snorts and shakes his head. “You know why he did it? For love. Love for his wife and daughter. When given the choice, he preferred to align with a villain than condemn his loved ones to death. He thought he was smart, too; he had no male children. Except that, unbeknownst to him, his wife was pregnant. King Faliel died, like most of the Witch King supporters, and so did the Witch King, or at least that was what we believed. Faliel’s choice guaranteed the survival of his family line, and yet his actions were the excuse used by the newly formed Crystal Court to shun us.
Regardless, when I look back at Faliel, I see a coward.
Love. He should fight evil for love, not align with it.
It’s why I told myself I’d never let love make me a villain.
And yet if he finds me, I’ll be forced to do his bidding.
And if he gets near me, he’ll have access to my magic. ”
“We’ll hide you, Azur. Make sure he never finds you.”
He looks away. “Soon it won’t matter.”
I want to ask what he means, but then I feel a sharp pain in my abdomen. I barely manage to step away from him, then I empty my stomach on the sand.
Is it the night, or is my vision strange? My vomit is a viscous black liquid, and it’s moving like a worm. No, nothing’s moving. I’m the one who’s dizzy.
“Astra?” Azur’s voice sounds distant, muffled, fading like the sky above me.
Everything is wrong. Wrong with me, with my mind, my body. I might pass out at any moment.
I think about the golden strands connecting souls, but they’re so far, getting lost in darkness. And yet I try to pull, try to call my kindred soul.
Marlak, I need you.
MARLAK
Mirella uses her air magic to float over a small whirlwind, then lands in front of us, right in the middle of the plaza facing the Jewel, where guards with hands and feet bound with ice watch us with curious stares.
“So now you’re calling yourself king?” Her voice is sharp like a sword, and her blue eyes are cold.
I use my air magic to counteract hers and help my friends breathe, then say, “It’s what I am. Mirella…”
Words fail me. How can I convince her I’m still her brother? What can I do to make her change her mind? “I spent twelve years looking for you. I never gave up. There wasn’t a day that you weren’t on my mind.”
She rolls her eyes. “I didn’t ask you to keep me in your thoughts. You think you’re the king?” Her laughter is sinister and eerie. “Let’s see how kingly you are once one of the twelve bloodpuppets reaches you. You’re being hunted, Marlak. If I were you, I would—” She snaps her fingers. “—vanish.”
I can’t recognize the cold young woman in front of me. For a second, I agree with Ziven that she has the same blue eyes as that murderous, horrific bird from that prison island, as if the monstrous nature had never left her.
“Mirella, I’m still the same brother who practiced air magic with you.”
She narrows her cold, hateful eyes. “You think that will erase the target on your back? Bloodpuppets, Marlak. You won’t stand a chance.”
I scoff. “I can deal with bloodpuppets.”
Mirella raises an eyebrow and points to my friends. “Can they?”
I’m such an idiot. I was so focused on my sister’s words that I stopped counteracting her magic, and she’s again blocking their air flow, making them choke. Thankfully, she didn’t make them faint, so I unblock their air pipes, and in less than a second they’re breathing.
Mirella laughs like a toddler who just saw something amusing. “Time’s running out. Bloodpuppets are the least of it. So instead of proclaiming yourself king, you should run while you can. Oh, and don’t even try to return to the Crystal Castle, if you plan to stay alive.”
“Marlak,” Ziven mutters beside me. “We’d better go.”
Mirella widens her eyes. “Look at that. A voice of reason!”
I’m tired of running, tired of hiding, but I don’t want to fight my sister. And I don’t want to endanger my companions. My heart is cracking seeing her looking at me like I’m her enemy.
“I’ll disappear,” I tell her. “For now. But I assure you that I’ll find your master and kill him.”
Zorwal. It has to be Zorwal doing this, perhaps enchanting her.
“Do try.” She smirks. “I cannot wait. Now shoo. Go.”
I take a look around me. Most of the guards are still hidden behind ice walls, but the few remaining in the plaza are watching us with interest. Any authority I gained by putting on the crown, any power I claimed will be diffused now, even if my plan was to leave soon. I’ll look like a coward. Or maybe not.
“My job here is done,” I say with the loudest voice I can. “The lower fae are not to be hunted. My sister is not to be harmed, despite her senseless words.”
The reply I get from Mirella is a mocking laugh.
I turn to the others. “Let’s go.”
Mirella doesn’t do anything to stop us as we walk away from the plaza, beyond the circles.
Two groups of illusions that look like us walk away in different directions, and I realize it’s Lidiane’s work, quite smart.
We’ll have to walk until we find another faerie circle or a river with nymphs, one discreet enough for us not to be spotted.
Most of the lower fae are gone, but a few are still escaping, some of them walking or running, some of them flying, some of them transcending through the circles. It’s good to see their magic back.
They could be an incredible army—but they deserve freedom, deserve respite. I hope they find places to hide, and wish I could give them shelter somewhere.
Unfortunately, right now, I barely have shelter for myself, and I’m wondering where to take Ziven, and more specifically, my brother—the same brother from whom I ran away half of my life.
“Where to?” Ferer whispers beside me, almost as if guessing my thoughts.
“Not the castle, I suppose.” I glance back and take a look at Renel, walking at a distance from us as if uncertain if he should follow.
“If there are bloodpuppets, you should—” Ferer pauses.
“Get to a magic-blocking hideout. I know. I’m thinking of Ziven and my brother.”
Ferer glances back. “I could take them to my house or Nelsin’s.”
And yet Mirella just attacked them. Renel, specifically, could be a target.
I consider the island house. Am I going to ruin my best hideout? The one Astra calls home? And it’s too far south, when I need to get to the Shadow Lands by morning. But it would be a good place for Renel to hide. Astra comes to mind, and I think she wouldn’t want me to abandon my own brother.
“The river hideout. Can you take Renel and Ziven there when you transcend?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure about it?”
“No.”
The truth is I don’t know what to do. All I know is that I want to get Astra out of the Shadow Lands, and I’d rather not worry about anyone else while I’m doing that.
But I don’t want my brother out of my sight, so it makes sense to bring him to my current dwelling.
On the other hand, if he betrays me, I’ll lose the house Astra loves so much—but I’ll know I’ve done the right thing, and so will she.
I have to make a decision, and say, “The island house is large enough to fit everyone.” Somehow, my whisper carries all the confidence I lack.
“I’ll take them there,” Ferer replies.
And then all I think about is Astra.
Astra, Astra, Astra. And yet I have to wait until morning.
No.
I hear her voice, somewhat muffled, as if speaking under water.
Marlak, I need you.
My heart somersaults. No, no. How am I going to reach her in the Shadow Lands?
And yet it’s not the Shadow Lands I see through our bond, but an island on a northern river. An island where we camped once. I can get there, if the Nymphs agree to take me.