Chapter 4
His face as stunning as ever if purposely inscrutable, Ash cursed every soul and complication that was currently keeping him from betraying his queen and returning to his mate.
Damn the skirmishes, he silently seethed. Damn the insurrectionists, too. And damn the Unseelie rebels lurking in the darkness of the Shadow Realms.
Most of all, though, damn the Fae Queen and her perverse sense of punishment.
Once again, he was standing too, too close to Melisandre.
It wasn’t his choice; to keep her from going after Callie, Ash had to continue to play his part.
The last thing he needed was to make the paranoid queen suspicious before he had the chance to meet with Ninetroir again.
Though he had every intention of escaping Faerie as soon as possible, of getting back to his mate when he could, Ash was a soldier to his core.
Walking into a situation without proper reconnaissance or a plan would only end in failure.
And this newest mission? It was far too important to fail.
There was a reason he chose Nine, and it wasn’t only due to the life debt Ash held over his head.
The library might’ve been a bust, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have other ways to get the knowledge Ash needed.
As a Dark Fae, Nine had his contacts in the Winter Court, and since that was where the Shadow Prophecy originated in ages past, using an Unseelie was his best option.
Still, Ash had known when he called on Nine that it would take some time for the younger fae to travel out of the Summerlands before he would even be able to shade-walk through the Shadow Realms. Days at least, and that was if he could take leave without first catching Melisandre’s attention.
Ash used to find it interesting that she was so desperate to hide the fact that she was really one of the Unseelie, going so far as to always keep herself cloaked in glamour, but she chose to allow a handful of Dark Fae nobles and soldiers to serve her in her court.
She did it under the guise that she ruled over all of Faerie which included both courts, but Ash wasn’t so sure.
It seemed, to him, that she paid far closer attention to the movements of her Dark Fae soldiers.
Or maybe that was just Nine.
He had his secrets. Ash knew that. He’d known that for decades, ever since he rescued the Dark Fae from being caught in the sun during a trip to the Iron. That was how Ash had earned the life debt that Nine owed him, and one that Ash wasn’t above using to get what he wanted.
He still didn’t know what Nine was doing in the Iron when he nearly burned up in the daylight. Even now, so many decades later, he knew that Nine was a good soldier who—like Captain Helix—revered the throne if not the queen currently sitting upon it, but that was all.
It didn’t matter. With the pebble in Ash’s possession, Nine was the only Unseelie that Ash could manipulate to learn more about the Shadow Prophecy before he fled Faerie.
Melisandre would never let Ash leave the Summer Court, and it wasn’t odd that one of the Dark Fae would request some time across the Courts’ Divide to recharge his shadow magic.
Only Nine hadn’t taken leave to visit the queen’s holdings in the Winter Court.
He’d been handpicked, along with a retinue of soldiers, to take another tour through Scáth, the largest city on the dark side of Faerie.
The recent rebellions had been quickly squashed, but rumors were swirling in Samradh —one of the Faerie prisons located deep in the Shadow Realm—that there were pockets of fae still searching for the long-missing Winter Queen.
Morrigan had been missing from even before Oberon had disappeared.
Ash had no doubt in his mind that Melisandre was responsible for both lost monarchs.
After all, she took advantage to take the throne, the crown, and the title of Fae Queen, bringing the two courts together more than two hundred years ago.
Every few decades, the forgotten Winter Court rose up, searching for their true queen. But Faerie didn’t whisper that Melisandre’s reign was the Reign of the Damned for no reason. Using more force than was necessary, she ended every rebellion, just like she would use her soldiers to end this one.
And Nine was one of them.
So, rather than taking a quicker trip across the Courts’ Divide, he was currently fighting in Scáth. Ash didn’t know how long Nine would be there for, or how time was passing in the Iron. As one of the immortal faerie folk, time had never been a concern to him before—but it was now.
What if he returned to Callie only to find that years had slipped by? She would hardly change; now that they were bonded mates, her lifespan matched his, so she wouldn’t age.
But did she know that?
Ash hadn’t told her. He hadn’t had the chance. Right after he claimed her, Helix captured him, and he was forced by Melisandre to reject Callie.
That didn’t break their bond, though. It would exist until one of them died, which was why Ash had agreed to the queen’s demands. For now, he couldn’t have Callie, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t return to her eventually. But now that the rumors spoke of a possible halfling child…
He had to go. Eventually was now.
Or it would be as soon as Nine came back to the barracks.
It had been weeks since the soldiers set out, Captain Helix leading the charge.
Ash wasn’t surprised to be left behind; not only did Melisandre want to keep him close, but the Shadow Realm weakened the Seelie soldiers in a way that the Summerlands didn’t do to the Dark Fae.
Captain Helix was a Light Fae, but he was determined, while Ash had always been content to guard his queen’s back.
Now he wanted nothing more than to stab his diamond-edged sword into it.
Ash swallowed his sigh. Wearing another of her gauzy, lightly-colored gowns, Melisandre was now sweeping through her garden, tending to her statues.
Each one was a trapped soul that had angered her at some point: former human pets she grew bored of, fae nobles who weren’t quick enough to praise her, even a few of the lower races that she kept frozen for a while before she—whoops—tipped them over and they shattered into pieces along the crystal trail beneath her bare feet.
Her wavy blonde hair drifted behind her as she cooed at the statue of Raine, still frozen after he noticed the last time her glamour had slipped.
Ash reflexively swallowed, forever grateful that moving his guard post had been his fate since it meant that he met his Callie rather than standing on a pedestal at the whim of a cruel mistress.
If it came down to it, Ash would rather Melisandre go for his head than freeze him as another of her playthings. Of course, he wasn’t going to let that happen. Not to him, and not to Callie.
He needed to warn her about the prophecy. And if Nine didn’t return soon, he would take the few lines that were burned deep in his memory and hope that would be enough.
As Melisandre took the next curve in the garden’s path, the blades of springy blue grass brushing past her heel, Ash moved in time with Saxon to follow after her. Still a soldier, he was ever alert. Casting his gaze around, he noticed a newly empty pedestal.
Interesting.
He was sure it had once held one of the touched humans that Melisandre used to play with between taking another fae consort to replace Oberon.
The human was gone, though, and Ash found himself straightening. With an open pedestal, the risk that Melisandre might decide to punish someone flippantly to take the human’s place was notable. With so much at stake, Ash couldn’t let that be him.
Glancing away, he stopped a split second after the Fae Queen paused. His hand immediately went to the hilt of his sword, but he dropped his arm to his side when he recognized the Light Fae now kneeling in front of Melisandre.
Captain Helix. He was back.
Which meant—
Melisandre’s soft voice was strangely breathy as she said, “Captain. Tell me you return bearing good news.”
Helix stood. “I do.”
She clapped. “Perfect. Come. Walk with me. Tell me all about what happened.”
“Aye.”
With a careless wave of her hand, she released the three guards at her back. With another, she sent away the other three so that she would be alone with Helix. And why not? After all, if she wasn’t safe with the captain of her guard, who was she safe with?
Ash didn’t know. Nor did he care. Taking his leave of the queen and her captain, he couldn’t care less what report Helix had about the uprising in Scáth. That was Faerie’s problem, and he was already consumed enough by his own.
But if Helix was back? Odds were that Nine was, too.
Slipping his hand into his pocket, Ash squeezed the pebble tucked inside before heading straight for the barracks.
He’d barely made it to his quarters before someone was knocking at his door.
“Yes?”
“It’s me.”
Ninetroir.
Ash pulled open his door, gesturing for the Dark Fae to step inside before closing it behind him again.
Unlike the Light Fae, who preferred to wear their tawny hair long, Nine’s dark curls were cropped. The points of his moon-pale ears poked through his perfect curls, his black uniform dotted with silver buttons as pristine as usual despite the long journey back to the Summerlands.
Glamour, thought Ash. Beneath the layer of magic, the uniform would be covered in travel dirt, the stink of the horses he would’ve ridden on clinging to his shadowy cloak. But as Nine stalked into Ash’s room, he wasn’t surprised that the Unseelie was glamoured.
He was fae, after all.
Tucking his hand beneath his clock, Nine drew it back out, something feathered and white and folded between his long, slender fingers.
“Here.”
“What’s this?”
“Paper. I figured you wouldn’t want it recorded in crystal,” Nine said, holding the folded piece of paper out to Ash. “It’s a bit primitive, but I jotted it down so that I had it right.”
As he accepted it, Ash’s head shot toward Nine. “You were able to confirm the—”
Nine cleared his throat, cutting Ash off before he could say “prophecy”. Right. Because not even in his personal quarters were they truly alone.
With a nod, showing he understood, Nine gestured for Ash to unfold the page.
And he did.
The page was covered in ink-drawn lines, the script of the old language that said:
Ash didn’t bother reading any further. A quick glance proved that the following lines were the whispers of the prophecy that he had already known—and they, like the new lines, just confirmed what he thought.
The Shadow Prophecy foretold that a halfling child—part human, part fae—would bring about the end of the Reign of the Damned. It was also why Melisandre was adamant that her subjects could play with their human pets, but they could never, ever take a human for their mate.
She was too late, though. Ash already had, and if he’d managed to get Callie with child...
His fingers tightened, unintentionally crumpling the sheet of paper.
It was confirmation, but overall a waste of time.
Ash already knew that Melisandre would never allow a halfling to be born, so if the rumors were true, then she’d be searching for the nameless human female before she could ever have the chance to give birth.
And while the chances that, their first time together, Ash had managed to get Callie pregnant weren’t very high, there was a chance.
Callie needed to know. Just in case, she needed to be warned.
As if Ash needed an excuse to finally stop acting like he was prepared to spend forever without his mate.
Smoothing out the wrinkles in the paper, Ash nodded again. It was as close to a ‘thank you’ that one fae would ever give another.
In answer, Nine held his hand out.
He disappeared the page into his pocket. “Yes?”
“I’ll be taking the pebble back now.”
The pebble wasn’t just a pebble, and they both knew it.
Decades ago, when Ash was guarding a point between realms, he watched as Nine tried to shade-walk from the Iron into Faerie just as the sun was coming up in the human world.
But the Dark Fae had waited too long to weave a portal out of shadows.
There weren’t enough left for him to cross the veil and he began to blister in the sun.
For a moment, Ash had watched his struggle in mild interest, wondering how long it would take the Dark Fae to incinerate in the sunlight. To this day, he still wasn’t sure what enticed him to get a closer look, but before he knew it, he was walking boldly toward the half-dead fae.
He could save him, but it wouldn’t be out of the kindness of his heart.
Throwing Nine over his shoulder, Ash lingered long enough to pick up a simple stone from the earth.
The promise was made without even a word, the geas that Ninetroir owed Aislinn his life imprinted on a pebble the size of his thumbnail.
Ever since, Nine had kept his distance, even after he followed Ash’s suggestion that he attend the Shadow Academy, then join the queen’s guard. He still kept his secrets, but if there was one thing Ash knew, it was that Nine was willing to do anything to get the pebble back in his possession.
Ash cocked his head slightly. “And why’s that?”
“The paper. I went to great lengths to get that for you.”
“And?”
Nine rubbed his fingers together.
Ash pursed his lips. “No.”
“Aislinn—”
“Did I say I would trade your debt for information?”
Nine opened his mouth. Closed it.
Beneath his glamour, Ash was sure he was fuming.
Nine was so young. And though Ash chose to sponsor him during his time through the Shadow Academy, he was still naive in so many ways.
He knew it, too, and he didn’t mention the pebble again.
Instead, he pursed his lips, mirror-like eyes darkening to the color of iron. “You test me, Aislinn.”
Ash was sure he did, just as he was sure that he would hold onto the geas imprinted on the pebble until he was forced to use it. There might come a time when he would need to call in Nine’s debt to save a life infinitely more important to Ash.
And, for the first time in centuries, he didn’t mean his own.
When it came to Callie, he would do anything. Risk anything.
Sacrifice everything.
Pay any price.
And it was time he proved that to her.