Chapter 36 #2
A groan rumbles out of me as I get to my feet. That couldn’t have gone worse. How did everything turn into such a mess?
I can fix this. Taran listened to me—I helped. And I can do it again.
I find him lying face down across the bed in the dark. “Are you sleeping?” I ask.
“No.” The mattress muffles his voice.
“Do you want to talk?”
“No.”
My stomach twisting, I sit next to his head. “Perhaps you should. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.” I brush an unsure finger through his hair, hoping it’s the right choice.
Nothing.
I try again. “Why are you so against willbending? You’ve done it to me. Twice.”
Taran grunts, then rolls to his side. “And I hated doing it, but it was the only way. I can’t beat you in a fight when you’re incanting and I’m outside of my realm.”
Despite everything, part of me swells with pride. That’s not my life anymore, but I can be just as useful by helping him work through this.
“You could’ve tried talking.”
“There wasn’t time. In either scenario.”
“We don’t have much time now, either.” I tentatively take his hand.
Under the dim light, his eyes focus on our hands as he caresses my fingers.
“My father never loved my mother. He told me so, after she tried to kill me for being better at willbending than her. She made him love her. Every day.”
Time slows, the implication snapping into focus. My thoughts spiral, horror consuming me the deeper they delve.
“That’s…”
I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. ‘Awful’ isn’t enough. Nothing is. I squeeze his hand, hoping to convey what words can’t.
His fingers twitch in my grasp. “He knew what she was doing. She wasn’t strong enough to keep his mind twisted at all times, but it was enough that he couldn’t escape. Until I bent her and he broke free.” The corner of his mouth curls. “I don’t even remember what I said. It was just a tantrum.”
He pushes himself up, sitting on the bed beside me, half turned away.
“I’m not like my mother, Ellie. I can keep someone trapped. Force anyone to do anything, with no fear they’d ever break free. Unless I let them. Could even kill them with a single word.” He sighs. “So I can’t just bend people. Not if there’s any other option. I don’t want to be like her.”
There it is. The burden he’s been carrying, all by himself. Holding back such power instead of using it to solve all his problems… No wonder he snapped.
I shift closer, wrapping my arms around him as I rest my head on the back of his shoulder. He relaxes, letting me share his weight.
“I understand. We’ll find another way.”
* * *
“So what’s the plan?” Aerona crosses her arms as she leans against the wall of earth in the main room.
She and Taran’s other allies gathered over the past few bells, and everyone is finally here. I’m standing by the window, next to Reid and Emlyn, behind most of the others. Taran wanted to bring as little attention to us humans as possible.
Which gives me the opportunity to watch everyone for anything suspicious. So far, they’ve all noticed the spots of blood on the floor, but their reactions have been mostly what you’d expect—curiosity, avoidance, and disgust.
Taran stands in front of the fireplace, all eyes on him. “The plan is to kill the queen. That’s the only way I get my throne. Exiling her again would be foolish.”
“That’s a tall order,” Merfyn says, glancing around. His nerves don’t seem to have improved since Ashbourne. “I’m certain you’re the only one who could do it.”
Taran shakes his head. “Anyone could if she didn’t sense them coming.”
“She’s the queen. Her land-sense is too strong,” says one of the others—a large man dressed in wool clothes simpler than the rest. He must be Cadoc, the shepherd.
“The Land is still bound to me,” Taran replies. “Her awareness isn’t much better than any of yours right now. But the longer we wait, the stronger she’ll become. The wedding is our best chance.”
“About that.” Emlyn stops peeking out the window, glancing at Taran. “She’s expecting you to show up—she’s doubled the guard. You won’t be able to sneak in. Not without bending or killing someone.”
“I want to avoid as many casualties as possible,” Taran says. “She would sacrifice everyone there to save herself. I won’t let that happen.”
“So, bending, then.”
If Reid weren’t between us, I would’ve smacked Emlyn’s shoulder. He’s supposed to be Taran’s friend. He shouldn’t be giving him such a hard time about this.
Taran shoots him a hard look. “I can’t sneak in at all. While her land-sense is weaker, she can sense me. By the time we reach the castle, she’ll know exactly where I am.”
“You’re making this whole endeavor sound rather hopeless,” Merfyn says, tugging his shirt straight.
“It’s not. Her attention will be focused entirely on me, and that will provide an opening for the rest of you to steal something of great importance to her. When she realizes what’s happened, she’ll split her focus. That’s when we strike.”
“What are we taking?” a red-haired fae asks, whose name I can’t possibly guess.
Taran’s eyes meet mine.
“Prince Caeo.”
The weight of his gaze makes my stomach tighten. Why is he staring at me?
Aerona pushes off the wall. “You want us to kidnap the groom from his own wedding?”
“It won’t be a kidnapping. He’ll come willingly if they do it.” He tilts his head toward Reid and me.
Reid tenses, glancing at Emlyn, then nods.
My fingers clench, still seeking the comfort of my lost button. Everyone’s looking at me, but I don’t know why. “What am I doing?”
Taran’s eyes soften. “What I brought you here for, Ellie.”
Oh. The curse.
I nod. I don’t know what I’m agreeing to, but if this is how I’m supposed to help, I’ll do it. For Taran, and to save my people—my father—from war.
A weight sinks down my throat. Even if this all goes well, I may never see my parents again. At least they’ll be safe.
But only if we figure out who the traitor is.
Taran turns to Aerona. “The queen’s probably given him my chambers. You can get them there.”
How does she know the way to his room? Could they have been a couple at some point? That could explain her coldness, but would that make her more or less likely to betray him?
“Once you’ve taken him, the queen will turn her attention to you,” he continues. “You’ll need backup.”
“I’ll do it,” Emlyn volunteers.
“No. You know the palace better than anyone other than me. I need you on the queen.”
Emlyn’s face pales. All at once, the other fae become very interested in the floor and ceiling.
My breath catches. He wants Emlyn to kill the queen? Somehow, the fact that we’re plotting the assassination of a powerful willbender didn’t seem real until now.
“Tell me that isn’t your plan,” Emlyn says, his body so stiff it almost trembles.
Taran nods. “I’ll be moving in as well. I want to do this myself, but if you get an opening, I need you to take it.”
For a tense moment, no one breathes as they stare at each other.
Then Emlyn walks out, the door swinging behind him. Taran’s gaze drops to the floor, and he rubs his brow with his hand.
“Will he be coming back?” Merfyn asks.
Taran sighs. “He’ll do it. He just needs a moment.”
Reid narrows his eyes at Taran, then goes after Emlyn.
“We should discuss how everyone’s getting in and where to be,” Taran says after the door slams shut.
I sidle over to the window as Taran continues speaking, carefully pulling the curtain back. Emlyn sits outside, several feet from the door, his back to me. Reid wraps his arm around him, whispering words I can’t make out. I drop the curtain as Emlyn leans into Reid—I shouldn’t be intruding on this.
As I look over at Taran, plotting with the other fae, a knot in my chest twists. Is Emlyn right? Should we be questioning Taran’s judgment?
I have no way of knowing if this is a good plan—I don’t have enough information. But the other fae… While their heads nod in agreement, their taut faces betray their uncertainty. And Emlyn clearly believes his role is tantamount to suicide.
Not to mention, we still haven’t found our betrayer.
If I were a traitor, what would I be doing now?
Silently taking everything in? Shaping the plan into something riskier? Or simply waiting until everyone leaves to stab Taran through the heart?
My gaze wanders to the weapons the fae wear. They’re all armed, some with bows, but they almost all bear those bone knives of varying lengths. Merfyn’s even has intricate carvings on it, like the sword Taran showed me.
Those look familiar…
Taking a careful step toward the fae man, I feign inspecting a scuff on my boots, kneeling to get the blade on his hip closer to eye level.
The pattern on his blade’s identical to the tattoo on my dead attacker’s neck.
“Those are some interesting carvings on your blade,” I say, interrupting the conversation. Everyone looks at me. “Are they supposed to be antlers?”
Merfyn’s brow furrows, and he looks around before answering. “Yes. My family has a long history as stewards of the crown’s deer.”
I meet Taran’s eyes. “I’ve seen this pattern before—tattooed on the man who tried to kill me.”
Merfyn’s hand flies to his blade, but Taran’s faster. He slams Merfyn against the wall, pressing a knife to his throat. My flash of triumph flickers out, swallowed by the icy darkness of dread.
“You betrayed me?” Taran growls.
Merfyn’s face contorts in a mix of anger and fear. “You’re a fool, Taran. You don’t have what it takes to be King—you won’t even use your power to keep your kingdom.”
Taran’s fingers clench around his blade, and he digs his elbow into Merfyn’s chest as he pushes him into the wall. Fury ignites in his eyes, twisting his features until he looks like a stranger, sending a chill down my spine. I start to reach for him, to beg him to calm down, but it’s too late.
“You will forget you were ever here. That you ever knew me.” Taran’s willbending hits heavy as Merfyn’s face goes slack, eyes blank. “You will return to your home, and you will never speak another word to anyone for the rest of your miserable life.”
Merfyn drops to the floor in a heap, then lifts his head, blinking in confusion. His mouth forms empty shapes, not a sound coming out.
“Get him out of here.” Taran’s voice echoes as he turns away.
Everyone scrambles to do it.