30 SCION
UNDERNEATH
The last golden fingers of the sun clawed at the horizon as we reached the city of Underneath.
Smoke rose in the distance, and the air was thick with the smell of roasting meats and unwashed bodies—a stark contrast to the sterile desert that lay beyond the Hedge.
“This place is a fucking cesspool,”
I muttered.
“I love it,”
Bael said without a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
I caught the gleam in his unnerving yellow eyes, and I shook my head. “That?”
I gestured pointedly to a group of ramshackle buildings, crumbling under the weight of their red-stone roofs. “You love that?”
“There’s a strong energy here, don’t you think?”
“If by ‘energy’ you mean ‘chaos,’ then yes. It’s quite strong.”
My cousin was far too happy to be here, and it was setting my teeth on edge. As far as I was concerned, we would find Lonnie and get the fuck out of here. Bael, however, seemed a bit too at home.
“You do remember why the fuck were here, right?”
I muttered as we passed a ramshackle tavern.
“Yes, of course,”
Bael replied, the humor falling from his tone. “You do not need to keep reminding me that it has been nearly a week since we saw our mate. I feel it as much as you do.”
I ground my teeth. I didn’t like it when he said “our mate”
as if it were fact, but for once I let it go. As long as he was focused on the point of our visit, and not distracted by the revolting spectacle of the unseelie city, that was all that mattered.
*
As we walked further along the road, a group of red-robed men tumbled out of the tavern we’d just passed. I stopped, and looked back at them, unease crawling up my spine.
I knew fucking soldiers when I saw them, armor or not.
“Wait,”
I motioned for Bael to stop. “Look.”
He turned and followed my gaze. The red-robed soldiers were lounging outside the tavern, drinking from tankards that caught the dying light, making the liquid inside look like molten gold.
“King’s lap dogs seem to be enjoying themselves,”
I observed, my lips curling in distaste.
Bael raised a skeptical brow. “You think those are guards?”
“Definitely.”
“Hmmm,”
Bael hummed, his voice tinged with a dark amusement. “And to think, I thought your uniform was the ugliest one imaginable.”
“Shut the fuck up, I’m being serious.”
“As am I,”
my cousin replied. “If that’s what the guards here wear, then don’t you think we might stand out at the harbor? Your armor screams ‘Fae nobility’ louder than a banshee at a funeral.”
I glanced sideways at him. Bael might not have been destined for the throne, but he was every bit as dangerous as any royal I’d ever known. He also wasn’t stupid, as much as he liked to pretend otherwise. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Trust me,”
Bael said with a flash of his sharp teeth in a semblance of a smile. “When have I ever led us astray?”
“More times than I care to count,”
I shot back.
“Then what’s one more time to add to the list?”
I sighed, and looked down at my own shiny stone armor, before reluctantly nodding.
He was right, but trading the armor I’d worn religiously for years outside the palace was not something I looked forward to. I’d already had to send Quill away, telling him to circle the area outside the Hedge and wait for us. It seemed that this mission was determined to strip everything from me.
The alley behind the tavern was a narrow gash between two hulking buildings. The uneven cobblestones were slick with garbage, the remnants of ale, and other less savory liquids. I pressed my back against the cold stone wall, my eyes scanning the back door.
“How long do you think it would take to sail from Inbetwixt around to Underneath?”
“By boat?”
Bael mused, his yellow eyes reflecting the last light of the sun as it bled away into dusk. “Days. Perhaps a week?”
I nodded sullenly. That was what I’d thought.
It had been nearly a week already, and my greatest fear was that Lonnie would arrive in the harbor before we did. If she disappeared into the lands of Underneath before we could find her, I couldn’t imagine any way to track down where she’d gone. “If she’s already here?—”
“I know,”
Bael cut me off. “Then we’re fucked.”
“But what if she is?”
I pressed. “Where would Ambrose take her? To the king?”
“By Aisling, I fucking hope not,”
Bael muttered. “Even Ambrose can’t be stupid enough to visit the king.”
“Shut your mouth,”
a gruff voice hissed from the darkness nearby, and I jerked to a tension.
We both spun around to look as a ragged figure emerged—an unseelie beggar. Horns protruded from his temples, and his completely black, bug-like eyes wild with fear or madness. Possibly both.
“What did you say?”
I hissed angrily.
“I said to shut your mouth, Idiots,”
he hissed. “After dark, the king hears everything. Even the walls have ears.”
“Then you’d best be on your way,”
I snapped. “Or the walls will hear me cracking your skull against the pavement.”
Nervously, the man retreated back into the shadowy embrace of the alley, muttering curses or prayers—I couldn’t tell which. As he disappeared, I shared a look with Bael.
“Is that true?”
I asked him.
Bael shrugged. “I don’t know.”
I ground my teeth in frustration, not liking to bring up my cousin’s clear connection with the King of Underneath any more than absolutely necessary. “Can you…”
He shook his head, already knowing what I was going to say. “I can only see, not hear.”
I couldn’t ask anything else, as then, heavy footsteps sounded inside, and two red-robed guards stumbled out, drunk on ale and their own inflated egos.
“Ready?”
Bael whispered.
I nodded, even as bile rose in my throat. There was no honor in this, only necessity.
As the first guard fumbled with his belt, I stepped forward.
The man was a bulky bastard, all muscle and no finesse. He barely had time to register our presence before I struck. I reached behind him, and twisted his neck with a sickening crunch. The guard crumpled to the ground.
Meanwhile, behind me, Bael had made quick work of the second guard. “Do you think you should take the time to behead them?”
I glanced down at the crumpled soldier. High Fae might be able to heal a broken neck, but I wasn’t sure about the Unseelie.
“No,”
I said, reaching down to pluck the sword from the guard’s belt. “It will take too long. Even if they eventually wake, it will be to find their robes and weapons gone.”
Bael shrugged. “Fair enough.”
I dragged the body of the first guard behind a barrel, and bent to pull off his robes. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a flash of crimson. A third guard was creeping out of the shadows behind my cousin, a long, Source-forged knife clutched in his shaking grip.
“Bael!”
I called out, “Behind you.”
Later, I’d realize it was that yell that sealed our fate. That the walls really did seem to hear all, and that mentioning Bael’s name after dark was perhaps the most foolish thing I’d ever done in my immortal life.
Like he’d been summoned by my yell, a silence descended, profound and chilling. Then, out of the shadows, a hulking figure emerged, flanked by more guards than could be counted in a single gasp. They swarmed like locusts, their red robes a sea of blood against the city’s cobblestones.
“Seize them,”
the king commanded, his voice devoid of emotion. “My son and I are long overdue for a talk.”