4. Touch of Madness, Taste of Destiny
CHAPTER 4
Touch of Madness, Taste of Destiny
Hawke Stormblood
“Perhaps he had a stroke? We should call for a healer or perhaps his mother,” Wraith Shadowbear is looming over me. His normally golden brown eyes glint red and one corner of his mouth twitches with the beginning of a smirk.
“I think he’s fine,” Destrien says, awkward mirth lacing his tone. “Just–”
“Fuck you, Wraith!” I wave an arm at the burly dream-walking, energy-siphoning, asshole. “I didn’t have a stroke.”
I’m not sure how I ended up on the floor, though. My head is swimming and my magick is thrumming inside my body like I touched one of the World Tree source wells.
Touching a Realm doors shouldn’t have this effect on me. Or anyone. The doors are just portal covers. The portals themselves are wormholes we built. The vision I had shouldn’t have been possible…
“You’re one the one acting like a fucking loon, Hawke.” Wraith extends a hand and I grasp it, allowing him to give me enough momentum to jump to my feet. “You were yelling and shouting. It sounded like you were talking to someone. Then you hit the floor like a sack of flour. You’re scaring the children.”
Wraith reaches over and touches one of the dragon locks, stroking the metal like a man would worship a woman’s body. My blood heats, suddenly angry that he might see the woman in my vision.
But nothing happens. He looks right back at me, a questioning look in his eyes, waiting for me to explain. Which I’m not going to do.
Because I can’t. Without sounding completely crazy. And I can’t afford for anyone to suspect I’m not in control any more than they already do.
“Upir children aren’t scared of anything,” I say, straightening my coat and frowning. I peer past him at a group of Upir women and children who paused during my incident. The women are covering their mouths politely hiding their smiles, but the children are snickering blatantly. I grunt. “So terrified.”
The partial smirk becomes a full grin and Wraith laughs. “It is good to see you old friend, though I have to say,” he pauses and looks at the Earth-Realm door again, “I’m still curious and will press you for details later. I see your brother is about to piss in place to get you away from me, so I’ll let him.”
I open my mouth to accuse his people of causing the vision, but I don’t want questions. I don’t trust the Upir as a whole, but I do trust Wraith. The Table chose him as a Knight. He pledged to the World Tree. We are brothers in a way only Knights understand. And I really don’t want anyone to know I was seeing things. If the High Council were to find out—I’d be done. Executed. Eliminated.
“Brother,” Destrien urges from behind me.
I tip my chin to Wraith. “See you later, old friend. Be careful with my castle.”
Wraith’s eyes warm. “Always.”
I follow Destrien from the Hall, my mind swimming with questions. Am I losing my mind? Was the woman real? Was she a hallucination?
We rush down corridors, through several sets of doors and out onto the bridge that leads to the tower where the Round Table resides.
He’s walking so quickly. Almost like he’s running from me. Or running me away from people. No one comes out here. No one goes to the table room unless a meeting has been called between the Knights.
“How are you? Are you feeling better?” he asks, his tone tentative. “What happened?”
I grunt. So that’s why we came all the way out here. I don’t necessarily trust him to keep my secret, but it was smart to find a private place.
“I thought if something was happening, a little space would be good.”
“Something?” I turn and glare at him.
“Brother, you’ve been acting strange all day long. The outburst. Touching the door. You were speaking to someone who wasn’t there. Panicked. You passed out for at least a few minutes. The Upir coming into the Hall were all staring at you like you were crazy. So yes, I thought it would be wise to remove you from the public view.” He folds his arms over his chest and waits.
I roll my shoulders and my eyes to the empty sky above us and yell. “Fuck! I had to touch the door. I saw…” I cut myself off. I can’t tell him, either.
He nods, gesturing toward the door. “Whatever you saw, the World Tree will help calm you.”
We enter the large round tower chamber, a space both ancient and alive, whispering secrets of so many ages past. I hate to tell him I don’t think even the sacred tree can save me from losing my mind.
The room is expansive, with tall windows encircling the entire chamber, offering panoramic views of the surrounding isle of Avalon. Late afternoon sunlight pours through the glass, casting a warm, golden glow that dances across the stone walls. The light plays with shadows, creating a tapestry of light and darkness that adds to the mystical ambiance of a room that practically breathes magick.
In the center of the chamber stands the Round Table, unlike any other. Yggdrasil, the World Tree, grew a trunk up the center of the tower and spread itself out in this room, its surface bark as smooth as polished wood, resembling a majestic flat stump.
The Table calls its Knights from any of the eight worlds.
We don’t choose to serve. It is an honor and a privilege to be called. When my name appeared on one of the chairs–I’ve never seen my father so proud. As a Knight and the Prince of the Fae, I’m in a unique position to serve and protect Avalon, Camelot, and my people.
Around the table are five chairs, each uniquely grown by the World Tree. And they change each time Knights retires and new Knights are called.
I sit in the chair marked with my name and put both hands down on the Table. The magickal energy flows into me like a soothing river of cool water. The table acts as a well, a place where one can reach into Yggdrasil to replenish and find balance.
I’m not feral… yet.
“I saw a woman, Destrien.” I change my mind and decide tell him some. “It was like a dream, except it wasn’t.” I lean back in my chair and stare up at my brother. “The panic I felt was real. The danger she was in was real. She said people were coming to kill her. And I couldn’t get to her.”
His eyes widen, surprise stretching his mouth into a tight line.
The door to the chamber opens and the Queen of the Sirens slips inside.
Her blue and white hair is braided into a crown on her head. She’s wearing a small diamond encrusted tiara on top of her hair. Her silver dress swishes lightly against the stone floor and her short traveling cloak hangs from her back like a royal cape. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in anything other than formalwear.
I swing my gaze back to Destrien and glare. “What did you do?”
“Don’t be hard on your brother, Hawke. He’s worried about you. And rightly so,” Nimue’s voice is velvety and smooth and controlled.
“You talk to Nimue. I’ll take care of the meetings we’re already late for, brother.” He spins and leaves the room before I can speak against this plan. I don’t want to speak to anyone about this, much less the siren Queen.
Fuck . Fuck. Fuck.
She walks closer to the table and runs her fingertips along the edge, but doesn’t sit. She’s a queen by every right, but these seats belong to the Knights. They aren’t thrones, but they are special. Revered.
She clasps her hands and rotates a large silver and blue ring on her first finger. Around and around, like she’s nervous, or thinking, or both. I’ve never seen her act this way and it makes me suspicious.
“I don’t know what my brother told you, but I’m fine.”
“Mmmmm,” she hums beneath her breath. “What did you see when you touched the Earth-Realm door? A woman?”
How in the depths of all fucking hells does she know?
“When did you arrive in Camelot, Queen Nimue,” I ask, ignoring her question and using her title to create distance and formality. We are not friends and I’m pissed my brother involved her in my business. “I don’t remember seeing you come through the Hall of Realms?”
The fine lines around her eyes crinkle when she smiles at me. “I’ve been here a few days, but I came through a waterway, not the portals. I was visiting with an old friend in the forest.”
“How is Cyrus?” I ask, guessing at the friend she was visiting, but still suspicious. She never comes to Avalon and even more rarely visits the forest unless it’s to see the only unicorn left in the whole universe. There’s no way to truly track a Siren as they can come and go through any body of water large enough for them to fit through.
She laughs flatly and spins that ring again. “Old and as grouchy as ever, but mostly lonely.” Her gaze moves from the table to meet mine again.
I flatten my features, using everything my father ever taught me about remaining unreadable. My brother might have thought I needed her help. But she’s the last person I need poking her metaphorical fins into my problems.
“Hawke, you know Sirens help find mates. If you don’t tell me what’s going on, how can I help you?” She uses my given name again and it grates on my nerves, but I hold back my temper. She’s trying to make me comfortable with her, but it’s having the opposite effect.
“You haven’t helped anyone find a mate in a thousand years, Nimue.” I go for the hit I know will hurt the most. I don’t want her here. Better to just piss her off. “That was the punishment for doing what we did. We saved a world, but we broke everything else in the process.”
Her purple eyes flare bright at the insult. “If not for the High Council’s ineptitude we could fix it. Don’t you think the World Tree is trying to tell you something, giving you a vision through the door? What did she look like?”
How the hell? Destrien… I answer my own question.
“The Fae are hated enough without being seen associating with you and your blatant disregard for the High Council’s authority.”
She laughs again, a laugh that says you’re-stupid-and-you’ll-regret-your-words. And maybe I will. But I can’t trust her. And I can’t be seen with her.
The Sirens are quite public in their hatred of the High Council. That they do not respect their authority or their decisions. My brother was foolish to include her in my secret. And I know it will cost me… at some point.
“This isn’t nothing, Hawke. Tell me what you saw. Let me help you.”
“No.” I rise from my seat and walk out, leaving her alone in the chamber.
“I know what’s happening with you and the other Knights. You don’t have a lot of time left, Hawke,” she says, her voice calm and quiet at the door behind me.
Don’t react. My inner beast is snarling, but the years of training to remain impassive kicks in and I say nothing. And so I keep walking. And walking.
Until I find myself back in the Hall of Realms. Back in front of the Earth Realm door.
I place my palm on the cold metal of one of the dragons. Then the cool surface of the wood. Nothing happens this time. There’s no vision of the beautiful brunette woman with a piece of my soul glowing within her. Which is ridiculously crazy to think about that being real… and it leaves only one conclusion.
I am losing my mind.