24. Aldrin
O ne by one, the Assassins of Belladonna transport the members of Titania’s innermost circle into the large, empty warehouse.
I watch from my hidden position as their number grows.
As more Nightmares lurk in the shadows all around them, converging on them like the predators they are.
The lords, ladies and senators are splattered with cattle blood and cower together instead of trying to fight.
Powerful jaws snap at them and clawed feet click on the ground as they are encircled.
“Charge!” I bellow, lifting my sword as a cue to my warriors.
We race out of the dark corridor, roaring battle cries.
Magic swirls around us in a display that distorts the air in ripples as we form wields that toss beasts aside.
Within a matter of heartbeats, our swords clash with those of the assassins and Nightmares alike, metal grinding against metal, blows pulled to ensure the other party isn’t truly hurt.
The condemned senators stare at my Spring force as though we are their saviors. They don’t know this entire assault has been staged so I can capture them. I need them to believe Titania wishes them dead.
I shoot a blast of air into Ada’s leathery black chest as she descends on a senator cowering on the floor.
She whips out her wings to catch herself before slamming into a wall.
An assassin with blades at the ends of each of his six arms races at me, and I am forced to pull a second sword from my back in a show to block the overhead attacks.
We clash over the top of a senator frozen on the ground.
“Run, Flint. Get out of here,” I grunt at Titania’s man.
“Aldrin? You are alive?” He shakes his head violently. “Where would I go? She will find me anywhere and kill me. That is clearly her intent.”
“Like she apparently killed me?” I growl, kicking the Nightmare in the chest. My assault throws him off balance.
I restrain him in the thick bands of vines hanging from the ceiling that the workers of this warehouse infuse with earth magic to create a system of pulleys for moving bulky items. The assassin stays in his cocoon, despite the fact that we both know he could easily break free.
“Pledge your loyalty to me, and I will protect you. Titania cannot touch me.” I stand over Flint, holding out a hand. He takes it, scurrying to his feet.
I pull him behind my back as Nico’s damned dread hound of spiked obsidian snaps at Flint’s neck, drool dripping from its massive fangs and its eyes glowing with violet light.
I never trust that these dark beasts will stick to their training without the intelligence of the low fae Nightmares like Ada and Dante.
I slam the flat of my sword into the side of its head, breaking one of its many black glass spikes, before sending down more vines to encapsulate it.
In that exact moment, Nico materializes through thick shadows with another of our targets in his grasp.
His head whips to Fluffy in time to witness the tiny piece of obsidian fall from him.
The lights that glow within Nico’s empty sockets flare with rage and he points a single long claw at me accusingly.
Fuck. I’ve pissed him off again.
Flint is crying and begging at my back, scratching uselessly at the panels of my armor.
By the gods—this man is powerful in earth magic; he just never bothered to train in it.
I have never expected all my people to be battle-trained, even the lords, but they need to give back to this realm in one way or another.
A soft man like Flint should do it by replenishing the magic of the land and low fae, not keeping it all for himself.
I turn to the senator and finally understand what he is gasping out. “I will make an oath to pledge my allegiance to you. Please, Aldrin, save me! I will do anything for your protection!”
I grab his hand, turn it palm up and slash the tip of my blade across his flesh. His face scrunches up as a shallow gash forms.
“It will be a blood oath.” I squeeze his palm hard in mine, and he nods vigorously.
It is cruel, binding a person to me in such an absolute way for life, but I am tired of these nobility who switch sides with the tide, only caring for their own wealth.
Tied to me in such a way, he will give me everything he has on Titania, because his fortune can only rise with mine now. It is done within a matter of moments.
“Cyprien!” I roar as he ducks to avoid an overhead swipe from Nico’s long-clawed hand. Silvan attacks the Nightmare from behind to draw his attention and free up my general. He stalks over to me, not even flinching as another winged creature swoops low over his head, pretending to just miss him.
There are so many monsters here who are doing little more than causing chaos, snapping jaws menacingly or flying overhead, inspiring fear but not actually engaging in the battle. We would be quickly overrun if these assassins were not working for us.
Cyprien arrives at my side, sneering at Flint.
“We need to retreat and get these people to safety,” I say while lazily sending out more vines from the ceiling to capture Nightmare and high fae assassins alike. I find I am enjoying how easy they are making it to overpower them.
“Perhaps we should leave him to his fate. He chose to follow Titania and benefited from her viciousness.” Cyprien’s cold eyes bore into Flint, making the man grip my arm tightly like it is the only thing holding him up.
“Don’t forget, I have been in her court for years, and I know the things you did at her side. ”
“Flint has agreed to become my informant in exchange for my protection. Isn’t that right?” I say, and he nods vigorously.
The bodies of a snakelike fae and Hawthorne roll past us, locked together in a wrestling match. Flint looks like he is going to vomit. Senator Ivy runs at me, gripping my other side like a child. Her gown is torn and the heavy black liner on her eyes has run down her face with her tears.
“Please!” she begs. “Whatever agreement he has made for protection, I want the same one!”
Cyprien scoffs. “Really, Aldrin, surely one traitor is enough. How many Winter Court migrants have been attacked so you could take their businesses, Ivy? How many have died? We don’t need her. Leave her for the Nightmares to devour.”
She turns wide, glassy eyes on me. I have to stop myself from laughing. Cyprien plays his role far too well. It’s probably not an act for him.
“Make the same blood oath to pledge your allegiance and loyalty to me in exchange for my protection, or I will toss you to the assassins,” I tell Ivy. The information this woman could give us on those Winter attacks is essential.
Her face pales at the gravity of the oath, but she doesn’t hesitate.
“Regroup!” I bellow at my warriors. “Prepare to retreat!”
Silvan drops to the ground right before us, landing with an assassin beneath his boots.
One of its wings is snapped at an odd angle and it has slashes across its leathery skin—he literally forced it from the air.
I cringe at the sight. Silvan is going a little too hard on the display.
The anger he carries with him has begun to boil over since he returned to the capital.
“I recognized this bastard from the first time Titania unleashed the Assassins of Belladonna on us. Fought him at the Frozen River Fortress,” Silvan growls, stepping off the creature as its body turns to shadows and rebuilds itself.
It is only then that I realize he has a small woman clutched to his chest. He tosses her at me.
Wren, the senator responsible for the supposed food shortage.
“It tried to fly away with this one. Do with her what you want.”
Silvan immediately takes a defensive position, engaging with another Nightmare that charges at us. Cyprien does the same on the other side of our small cluster, giving them the appearance of protection. I force my third victim into the oath, her past just as dark as the others’.
Klara brings me my fourth victim while swinging her sword between two Nightmares who attack her from either side.
More Spring Court fae pop into existence, shrouded in shadows, until all six we managed to capture are with us and bound in oath to me.
Then Belladonna and Valentine appear as they slowly bring back the rest of the assassins who penetrated the palace with them.
Soon, this space will be crawling with their number, and we won’t be able to plausibly pretend to fight them off.
“RETREAT!” I roar. We slowly move backward, fighting our way through a horde whose attack significantly lessens to ease our way out.
Flint is suddenly at my side, grabbing my shoulder. “What if Titania sends more of us through the shadows to be eaten by monsters? We can’t leave them behind!”
I know for certain there will be no more. Keira confirmed that Drake only managed to have six arrested. “Then they are left to be eaten. That is Titania’s doing, not mine.” The blood drains from Flint’s face, but he doesn’t argue.
Dante steps out of the swirling shadows and motions me forward with a curl of his fingers, a smirk across his face despite the blood dripping from his split lip.
I meet him in the space between my huddled group of traitors and the amassing shadows and assassins, my sword held ready to meet his challenge.
We don’t have time for this, but I can’t resist.
He doesn’t even try to block me as I swing my sword at his middle. No, he uses that fucking time stutter to disappear and reform multiple steps back.
“I met that woman of yours,” he says, wiping the blood away from his chin. “Fiery little thing.” He pulls free his curling blade from his back, and we clash multiple times, the metal throwing off sparks as they slide against each other.