Chapter 20
UNA
I sat upon the chaise facing the crackling fire, readying for the rite, for my possible death. Beneath the black velvet ceremonial cloak, I wore a sleeveless, black silk chemise—the meager garment I could be wearing when I took my last breath.
Since my visit with Dalya yesterday, I had not left my bedchamber. Hava had not insisted I meet the king for dinner, and he had not returned to my bedchamber even once.
For a while, I was furious he would drag me back to N?kt Mir to be humiliated in this barbaric rite to become his—no, I could no longer equate being his mizrah to being his whore.
But in my mind, it wasn’t too far off. He might deem my womb important and therefore protect me until I gave him the child he so desired, but then what would happen to me in this unholy land where public fornication and biting were celebratory acts? Would I still be allowed Meck and Ferryn as guards when he cut me loose or sent me to live in a nearby tower?
“Mistress,” Hava asked. She knelt at my feet and took my hand, her brow pinching with a frown. “Your hands are cold.” Then she began warming my hand beneath her tiny ones, rubbing to stimulate circulation. “King Goll has asked to speak with you before the priestesses come to take you to N?kt Lykenzel.”
“No,” I said curtly. “Tell the king I will see him in the throne room at the Rite of Servium.”
She dipped her head while warming my other hand then placed them both in my lap. Her nearness was comforting. I knew that even our short time as friends, she truly cared for me and I for her. She was my only true companion here. I would carry that feeling in my heart—I was loved and I was a strong royal princess of the Issosian line—as I marched into their ceremony, hoping I’d survive.
She stepped to the table by the fire where I’d left my meal uneaten and returned to my side.
“Here,” she whispered, though there was no one there to overhear her. “Drink this.” She held out a chalice of Mevian wine. “I took it from the kitchens when the cooks weren’t looking. They’re too busy with the feast anyway. Drink it, Una.”
I took the chalice and gladly gulped down half the glass. “The feast they’ll be having in honor of their king taking his mizrah, I presume.”
“Yes,” she agreed quietly. “There is to be dancing and entertainment. Everyone will celebrate when you become the king’s mizrah.”
“I’m glad there are some who will benefit from the occasion,” I said bitterly.
She pet the back of my hair. She had spent hours plaiting tiny braids all along the front and twisting them in a unique style so that it was all completely bound tightly from my forehead and past my ears. The back was also twisted and plaited in multiple ways until I had one long rope down my back that brushed my buttocks. She said it was the ceremonial way for every mate or mizrah at her ceremony.
Hava pulled me to my feet, or rather I let her as she was so much smaller than me. She flitted around me, smoothing out my cloak.
“What of other mating rituals?” I asked. “The union ritual between two mates of dark fae? Do they also have a Rite of Servium?”
“Oh, yes. It is done in a much smaller ceremony and less formal than the wraith king’s, of course. And there is no trial in N?kt Lykenzel.”
“Of course,” I added bitterly. “And do the wraith fae males take their women in front of everyone?”
Her brow pursed, her red eyes contemplative as she fiddled with my braid, placing it over the front of my shoulder. “No. They’ve likely mated many times before their ceremony anyway. That part is done behind closed doors.” She smiled gently. I could not return it. “But they do bite them. It is a sign of public claiming. That is the end of the ceremony, and it is time to rejoice. To feast.”
“Why does a king…?” I couldn’t say it.
Hava knew what I wanted to know anyway.
She spoke softly. “A king taking his female before his entire court is more than a symbol. It’s showing everyone that his seed already lives inside of her. It keeps any wraith fae competitors from trying to take what is his. If she is a worthy vessel for his heir, a high born like you, then they all must know he has claimed you for his own.”
He’d said something similar to me in the tent that night. About rivals.
“But the wraith fae seem so devoted, dedicated to him. His Culled would kill anyone who dared to attack him or…” I paused, realizing I thoroughly believed this. “Or his mizrah.”
She nodded adamantly. “This is true. But King Goll had to execute and expel many since he killed his father. There were many who had faithfully followed King Xakiel, who quickly switched allegiance at his death. King Goll showed some of them mercy, allowing them to prove their loyalty. They have, but there is always a chance a usurper wants his place.”
A soft knock came to the door. Hava and I turned to see Dalya enter, covered in a black velvet robe similar to mine. She wore a lacy black veil that draped over her horns and hair, and swept down to cover half of her face, only her lips visible
She curtsied reverently. “It is time, Mizrah.”
From beyond the door, I heard whispered chanting and smelled burning, spiced incense. I walked to stand in front of Dalya. “I am ready.”
She lifted her gaze, a look of both awe and adoration on her face. “You are,” she agreed, examining my expression. “Pardon me,” she said as she stepped close and pulled my mantel’s hood over my head. “Follow me, Mizrah.”
She went into the shadowed corridor. I followed. On either side of my bedchamber were two lines of ten wraith fae priestesses, all robed in black, singing a soft chant. I only caught the words ancient , binding , and home . The two at the front held lanterns with burning blue coal, which cast an eerie light in the hall. The two priestesses second in the lines held a gold chain attached to a ball where the burning incense billowed out, filling the air with a smoky haze.
Dalya stopped just ahead of the front priestesses holding the blue coal lanterns so that I fell in line between them. The chanting stopped. I took note that my guards were no longer in the corridor as they usually were. Neither was King Goll. No one but the priestesses was anywhere to be seen. When I looked back into my bedchamber, Hava was gone as well.
Then we all walked together, the priestesses singing softly in demon tongue, the melodious sound hypnotizing as I was guided down the corridor and the staircase.
Below stairs, there was yet again no soul in sight. It was as if the palace were deserted.
Dalya guided us through the open double doors and along a path away from the esher woodland and the maragord grove. It was the stone path that brought us through the great iron gates. But rather than walk across the bridge, she continued on the path to the right where it circled downward.
The chill wind pushed my cloak against my body, the clouds wispy over the moon above. I breathed a prayer to Lumera, that she would be with me this night, that she would protect me.
As we descended in a winding path down below the castle, the stone cold beneath my slippered feet, I did not look at the steep drop-offs on either side. Rather, I focused on the singing prayers of the priestesses, their soothing melody brought me comfort.
I found myself muttering a prayer to Vix as well, the smoky incense billowing around me as I walked on. Vix wasn’t a god we revered in Lumeria, but he was the god of this land. This was his sacred space. Surely, he would listen to a moon fae who found herself thrust into the world of his dark fae children.
“Bless my spirit,” I whispered to myself. To Vix. “Keep my body and mind whole and safe, my lord.”
A buzz of warmth pooled in my belly. It felt almost like magick, a strange and ethereal touch of knowing, of power, and warmth.
Dalya led us into a cave opening, both sides lit by torches of feyfire. The flames danced slowly, unnaturally, a welcome light guiding us into the dark. The priestesses stopped chanting at once.
The paved path disappeared into a trail of black sand that led deeper into the cavern. The sound of dripping water and the soft shuffle of our feet was all I could hear as we wound our way around a corner.
Then I saw it, surrounded by torches—N?kt Lykenzel, the black lake where I would either seal my fate as mizrah to King Goll. Or where I would die.
Dalya stopped at the edge. We all halted behind her. When she turned to face me, I instantly unhooked my cloak and removed it. When I would’ve dropped it to the ground, a priestess quickly took it from me. My wings sprang free, Hava wisely cut openings for them to slip through the ceremonial chemise.
I stepped around Dalya to look down into the dark abyss. The pool of water didn’t seem menacing in any way. One side of it was a steep cavern wall, water sluicing down into the pool. Strangely, steam rose from the surface.
“It is a heated pool,” I muttered, grateful for that at least. My last dip into icy waters in Silvantis had led to me being captured, tortured, and stripped of my goddess-given magick.
“Yes,” Dalya confirmed softly. “There are deep pockets and hot springs below this sacred place that still warm the waters here.”
Even so, I shivered in my gossamer shift, gooseflesh prickling my skin. I stood straight and tall. “Let us begin.”
Dalya raised her arms and hands wide. “Vix give us guidance, bless this female, accept her into your beloved embrace.”
With her arms opened to the cavern ceiling, she stepped into the black pool. The priestesses followed behind her in their parallel lines, stopping when the water reached their thighs.
On instinct, I walked forward, my body wanting to be in the water. The warmth of it surrounded my ankles, my legs, my belly and buttocks as I stepped past Dalya and the line of priestesses.
“Stop there, Mizrah.”
I did.
“Now, fall back into the water. We will catch you and pull you up after you submerge.”
Either dead or alive , I thought to myself.
Finding that I was extraordinarily calm at a time like this, I didn’t hesitate. Closing my eyes, I fell backward. Slender arms and hands caught me beneath my head, shoulders, hips and legs, as the warm water enveloped my entire body. My long braid of hair and wings drifted downward. I held my breath when my entire head went under.
At first, nothing. Then…blinding flashes of memory. Not all my own.
The hag whispered in the dank dungeon, her cold, skeletal fingers tracing runes in blood on my forehead. “Ora est kel ohira. Ora est kel n?kt los. Ora est meheem.” Then her eyes lit with a burning light, something that hadn’t happened in the dungeon but seemed more real now than the memory. Then she spoke in perfect Issosian in a monotone chant, “You are the destiny. You are the dark lady. You are for him.”
A flash of pain, then a different vision. Not a memory. Only voices in a dimly lit room. I couldn’t see anyone, only hear them, their voices intimately close. A single candle burned in the corner of a small bedchamber. A female whispered, “Two sides of the same coin. Demon-fae. One true, one not. Beware the raven’s back… It’s you, isn’t it?” A male replied, “You know it is me. You’ve always known. Don’t pretend I’m not destined to take it all from him.” Then the voices faded, still whispering vehemently.
Then there came a vision of three sprites flying in a circle and singing, “A dark fae lady with secrets to see. A dark fae lady, lady…” They giggled and flew away into the shadows, their figures swirling into mist.
Out of the vapor stepped a menacing and dominant King Goll, his dragon eyes burning with blue-fire. “That is correct, Princess. You are my mizrah .” His aggression vanished, and in its wake only pain etched his face and desperate longing. “Mine,” he whispered, reaching out to me before vanishing into smoke.
Then my entire body was wracked with agony, burning from the inside as yet another vision came tumbling into my mind with jagged force. This one held weight and gravity, more than any other before. A four-horned wraith fae—no, something more, something bigger, greater—flew on dragon back, the moon shining behind him. In his arms was a female wood fae, her black hair streaked with gray lifting in the wind as the dragon soared in the night sky. Then the man, the god—he was certainly a god—cupped the cheek of the sleeping woman in his arms. “Rest now, my love. It will all come to pass as it should. My vengeance for you will be justice, and it will turn the world right again.”
There was the sound of a dragon’s flapping wings then the vision vanished into the gray clouds of the night sky.
I choked and spluttered the water clogging my throat and mouth. Dalya’s wide eyes stared down at me as she held my head above water.
“Vix,” I croaked, my voice raspy. “It was Vix.” Then I slipped into darkness.