Chapter 27 – Vale
VALE
When I awoke, it was to find my mate already wide awake and deep in thought.
“Did you sleep well?” I nuzzled into her hair, sniffing and repressing a low moan at how her smokey vanilla scent turned me on.
“Not really. Thyra dominated my dreams,” Neve murmured.
I pulled her closer, protective over the female who completed my soul as I completed hers.
A day had passed since she’d met her sister. A day of silence that was driving my mate crazy.
My mate had longed to meet her family and though she put up a brave front, Thyra’s reception had hurt her.
“Also, I’ve been wondering about the task they’re to set. Will it be something deadly? Thyra doesn’t seem to like me much. What if she wishes me dead?”
“She won’t harm you.” I sounded sure, though doubts roamed deep in my heart. Neve didn’t need to hear those, though. “And if there’s so much as a whiff of danger in the task, I will join. There is no other option.”
“We have other options, Vale.” She turned to face me, her violet eyes searching for an answer to a question she hadn’t spoken. “We could leave. Go find the Baliks like we planned. Or try to find the Ice Scepter with our friends.”
“Do you now have an idea of where to start?”
“None,” she admitted so halfheartedly that I suspected she hadn’t really wanted to leave anyway. She wanted to learn more about Thyra and see if they could have a relationship.
“Well, I have an idea of a different sort.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Your sister wishes to see how strong you are. To test your fortitude and weigh the true faeness of you. See how much you hunger for power, like many of our kind.”
“I’ve never been very power hungry.”
“And yet you seek the Scepter.”
“I do want it,” Neve said. “But only to right wrongs. I want to help those I can relate to. The downtrodden. And to bring this realm back into a state in which all can live.”
“A noble pursuit,” I whispered. “You’ll need power all the same for it.”
“True,” she exhaled. “So what do you have in mind?”
“Today we train, and you will show off all that I’ve taught you.”
My mate smirked, and I swore the sadness in her eyes sparked and took on heat. That fire and ability to rise to meet any challenge was why she was still alive.
“I like that idea,” she agreed. “Maybe they’ll give us weapons? Or allow us to use magic?”
I suspected they might be satiating their own curiosity. “We can only ask.”
Neve rose. “Then let’s go. I want to show my twin that I’m not one to be trifled with. That I’m not weak.”
We dressed and left our private room to find everyone else in the annex was already awake.
At the mention of training, Luccan, Thantrel, and surprisingly, Duran claimed to wish to join.
I figured that was not so many people that the rebels would worry about arming us—especially when Caelo was still abed, and Rynni had been called to the healing wing an hour back.
She was to work in that area of the falling castle, helping the rebels who did not have such a skilled healer with them.
Arie, Anna, and Clemencia would stay with Caelo.
Anna would work on mending our attire that had worn out in our travels, while the other two would devour books that had been brought to our annex hoping to find clues on the Hallows.
I stared at the books, somewhat stunned.
That the rebels had delivered the tomes Arie requested hinted that they might welcome us fully. Eventually.
One could hope anyway.
Once everyone was ready, we exited the annex to find the usual six guards outside our door. One arched a dirty blond eyebrow at us. He bore a diagonal scar across his face, one that brought to mind orc claws. “Do you wish to break your fast?”
“Actually,” I said, “we’re hoping to work stiffness from our bones. To train, if you’ll allow it.”
The guards exchanged glances, but none looked surprised. Perhaps their leaders had already presumed I’d asked for such freedoms. I was, after all, the Warrior Prince and had to remain fit and nimble with my weapons.
“The others will remain here?” the same guard asked.
“Yes. I suppose the others may wish to eat soon, but most of them are not the sort of fae to enjoy sparring.”
He looked to Duran, a dwarf who had spent a total of three days sparring in his thirty turns of life. After a pause, though, the guard only shrugged.
“Very well, you’ll follow me.” He motioned for two other guards to join us. “I’m Svald, head of your escort retinue today. If you have requests while you train, ask me.”
“Very well.” I nodded, and the faerie led us through the castle.
Thus far, we had seen little of the cursed place. Still, I recognized many of the tapestries that we passed by. Familiar areas too. Odd, for I knew the castle to be large. I guessed that parts were so destroyed that the rebels only used a portion of it.
“Any word on King Magnus and his retinue?” Neve asked Svald, breaking my short musings.
My clever mate. Always digging for more information.
She’d been shocked to hear of the Falk bastard, another relation. Almost as surprised as she’d been to learn of the king flying overhead—on some sort of mission, I guess.
“Our fylgjarn has his hawk following,” Svald replied. “So far, he and the other fae—Lord Roar Lisika being one—seem to be hunting for something. We know not what.”
“Where are they now?” I asked.
“Can’t say for certain. Last I heard, they entered a mountain abutting Eygin, and the hawk has since lost them. Can’t go in there, can she? But she’s staying nearby, waiting to see them come out. We can only hope they emerge from the same hole they entered by.”
We turned a corner, and I caught the sounds of clanging metal and jeers that indicated sparring fae, when, to my right, Thantrel shuddered.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Don’t you feel something off here?” He peered about, as if searching for something. “Like your nerves are on fire? I’ve felt it a bunch of times and can’t help but think it must be the curse.”
“Can’t say I have.”
Neve, Luccan, and Duran echoed me.
“Guess I’m special. Not that we didn’t already know that.”
Duran scoffed. “By the dead gods, your ego knows no bounds.”
Thantrel scowled. “Why are you here, dwarf? You don’t even fight.”
“I’m curious about the castle. Wanted to see more and hear stories of it—if I can get anyone to talk.”
“Oh yes, seeing a rotting castle is such a breath of fresh air,” Luccan added, before Thantrel could respond, as he appeared to be about to do. The way Duran and Thantrel bickered, you’d think they were brothers too.
“We’re here,” Svald announced as we approached the end of the hall and stopped before an open set of doors.
Inside a large room about half the size of the training facilities at Frostveil, a hundred rebels sparred with swords, maces, axes, and other weapons.
One female fighter hurled daggers at a target.
This room, unlike much of the castle, looked to be in good shape.
No crumbling walls. No holes in the ceiling or blown out windows.
It might be bare and cold, but it was functional.
“Where do the archers train?” Luccan asked.
There wasn’t room in here, but many of us had seen Thyra shoot. She was no slouch, and I suspected there were other rebels talented in archery too.
“Outside,” Svald said. “If you wish to train in archery, I’ll have to request permission. You are permitted in here, though.” He gestured inside. “No magic. Just weapons.”
“We understand.” Without our magic, we were small threats. Even if we had been inclined to fight and flee, with so many people training in the hall we’d never make it.
We entered the training area, and everyone turned to stare. Svald’s presence seemed enough to dim some interest, but not all. About half of the room returned to what they’d been doing, and the others watched as we approached the weapons.
I picked a sword. Luccan took an axe and Thantrel, a mace. Neve studied the weapons before she too took a sword similar in size to Sassa’s Blade. My mate was training with her sword even when she didn’t have it in her grasp.
“You take the far corner,” Svald instructed.
“Are you going to train with us?” Thantrel asked, his eyes darting about as if he didn’t dare meet Svald’s gaze.
My eyebrows furrowed. Usually the youngest Riis brother had more control. He was a master of eye contact—either to exude how powerful he was or charisma, depending on the situation. Now, however, he seemed about ready to jump out of his boots.
“We’re to stand with you. Not train.” Svald motioned toward the other guards who’d come with us, all still silent.
“Too bad for you. We could show you a good time.” Thantrel winked, but the gesture appeared jerky, not smooth.
“Than? Do you need water? Or food?” I asked. “You’re acting strange.”
“I’m fine,” Thantrel shot back, all the while shuddering again. “I . . .” He trailed off, eyes widening as he turned to face the entry to the training room again. “Bleeding skies. It can’t be!”
“What in the stars is wrong with him?” Duran muttered as the rest of us spun to see what had Thantrel in its grips.
“Who is that?” Thantrel whispered, pointing to the door. A trio of fae were entering, one of whom I recognized.
As did Neve.
Her eyes widened. “The black-haired one in front?”
“W-w-who else is there!?” Thantrel sputtered, which initiated a sidelong glance from Luccan. Had Than lost his mind?
“That’s my twin, Thyra. She’s the leader of the rebels.”
A grin spread across Thantrel’s face as he shook his head. “That’s not all that she is. She’s also my mate.”
My heart skipped a beat. “You’ve got to be kidding. Thantrel, are you—”
But he was off, red and orange fiery wings spread and soaring across the sparring room, above fae who were fighting a single-minded mission.
“Skies! What an idiot!” Luccan leapt into the air to soar after Thantrel.
“Come on.” Neve took my hand, and we followed suit, also flying and leaving Duran in the corner with Svald.
“Thantrel!” I roared. “Stop!”
He did not heed my command. Rather, the youngest Riis brother soared all the way over Thyra, landing before her and bowing.
The leader of the rebels did not appear amused. She scowled as we closed in. “What do you want?”
“You, my love.” Thantrel reached for her hand, a move I’d seen him try many times on barmaids to great success.
Thyra batted his hand away. “Don’t you dare touch me. And I’m not your love. Are you drunk?”
I landed, Neve and Luccan right beside me. But before I could speak, Neve stepped forward.
“Thyra, he’s with us. He—”
“I’m your mate,” Thantrel cut her off. “Surely you feel it? I’ve been sensing you since we were brought here. I thought it was the curse, but it was you, my beautiful raven-haired mate!”
Thyra’s face went blank, only for that shock to be replaced by a hardened jaw and narrowed eyes. “You’re what I’ve been feeling?!”
Bleeding skies! She didn’t deny it!
Jealousy welled inside me. I’d always heard tales of fae sensing their mate in an instant.
I’d believed that was what would happen to me too.
While I’d been attracted to Neve from the first moment I’d set eyes on her, the day when she’d stepped out of Roar’s sleigh and quite literally stopped me in my tracks, I hadn’t innately recognized her as my mate.
In truth, I suspected our scenario was more common, and the fantasy, that deep instant knowing written about in tales, was rare.
Exceptional. And it happened to be playing out right before my eyes.
Not smoothly, though. I winced.
If looks could kill, Thyra would have murdered Thantrel a million times over by now.
Thyra took a step toward Thantrel, her leanly muscled arms flexing, her body unyielding. Every line in her body indicated malice.
“You need to leave Valrun.” Thyra punched her finger into Thantrel’s chest.
He pressed a hand to where she’d made contact.
“Leave? Together?”
“Bleeding skies, it’s bad enough that the dead gods gave me a mate with the hubris to line his eyes and plait his hair.”
She waved near Thantrel’s face, his green eyes lined with gold by the same nymph who colored Saga’s hair. Most females were intrigued by his appearance. Thyra was plainly not one of those admirers.
“But to also send me a stupid male to bind myself with?” The rebel leader sneered. “No, we’re not leaving together! I can’t think straight with you here! And I have no time for a mate. Go back to Avaldenn, or wherever you came from, you prissy lordling!”
A cough came from behind the Falk heiress. The male with brown skin and honey eyes that brought to mind Sian and Filip, stepped closer to Thyra. He must be the Balik bastard Neve told me about. One of Thyra’s right-hand fae.
“Thyra,” the probable Balik bastard said, “he can’t leave.”
She spun. “I’m in charge here, correct, Bac?”
“Yes, but what if his family asks questions? Or the king? He knows this is the rebel hideout. He—”
“Thantrel Riis,” Than bowed low and with a flamboyant wave of his hand. “Son of the Lord of Tongues, Lord Leyv Riis.”
“By the dead gods, it cannot get worse than the spymaster’s son.” Bac shook his head. “Now he really can’t leave Valrun. Not until we’re sure they all side with us.”
Thyra tossed up her hands. “My bleeding luck!” Venom filled her glare as she turned on Thantrel. “I reject our bond, Thantrel Riis. Now, the rest of you, move out of my way!”
They did so, and Thyra marched past those she’d arrived with and straight out the door.
“By the dead gods,” Luccan breathed. “I can’t believe that happened.”
“My sister is his mate,” Neve scoffed.
I swallowed, taking in Than’s expression. With his hand over his heart, and his eyes screwed shut, he seemed to be in physical pain after being rejected by his mate. “And she wants nothing to do with him.”