Chapter 28 COMPLACENT DECEPTION #2
So the truth, if I were honest with myself, was that I’d intentionally embraced an excuse of ignorance with her in order to keep the witch close to me. I let her deflect all of my inquiries, and what was even more abominable, I had been deflecting my brothers too.
But this… Dreíocha? That was unexpected and much worse than I could have imagined. Had I known this was her dark secret, then I might not have been so complacent in my own deception.
I leaned back against the table as the thud of my heart grew unbearably loud in my ears.
My magic began to roil, and I hated that it was not simply reacting to the threat of a dreíocha trying to own me.
I would have to send Nuala away if I wanted to preserve my freedom, and the thought of that made my shadows want to revolt.
It was out of the question. I decided that as soon as the thought occurred to me.
Not only was she too useful to my war efforts, but I had made a promise to protect her.
But neither would I ever submit to her, or to anyone else, which meant I would need to find a way to keep her close without becoming a victim of her thrall.
“Nothing is inevitable. I have never desired a mate so whatever convictions she has invented are all irrelevant! Nuala will be my Seer and nothing more!” I informed Ornella and Ciaran sternly.
I meant the words, and yet they tasted rotten enough to turn my stomach. Which meant her claim was already in effect and may have already been affecting my behaviour. The thought of that enraged me.
But I was the only one who seemed angry. Ciaran had pursed his mouth in uncertainty of my declaration while Ornella winced in sympathy for Nuala. The realization that neither of them understood the sinister nature of this possible bond felt like an even worse betrayal to me.
There was no counting the number of people before Nuala who had tried to find ways to command my power, and I had resisted all of them.
I had stood firm against the attempts of my parents, the Sua, my friends, and countless lovers and politicians across the Four Courts to make me into their creature.
Saviour. Defender. Conqueror. Villain. The name they used for me had changed, but the intention to wield me as a weapon never did.
I turned angrily away from my riders to face Nuala and ensure she understood, in no uncertain terms, that I was not something she could exert a claim over.
But the sight of her almost brought me to my knees.
Her expression was not the indignant scowl I’d come to recognize from people when their grab for power was thwarted.
This was different. There was such devastation in her face that it made my chest seize with the regret that perhaps I’d misjudged her.
I quickly quashed that thought before it could take root in my heart and then turned away from all of them as I tried to regain some composure.
“Well… this is awkward,” Ornella murmured after a long moment. “Maybe Ciaran could portal her back—”
“She is not going anywhere,” I snapped impulsively and turned to glower at the dryad again. But I hesitated again at the sight of Nuala who had faced the wall with her arms wrapped around herself. Her back and shoulders heaved like she might be fighting to hold back sobs.
“I think she should go back to the yurt. It seems like maybe she could use some privacy,” Ornella pointed out with a hint of disapproval.
“I’ll take her,” agreed Ciaran, but then he froze when someone poked their head through the curtained door.
“Your Highness?” called the tiefling guard named Iraj. “We just received word that there is an emissary from the Winter Court approaching the camp.”
My head was still spinning from the revelation about my Seer, but as usual, there never seemed to be time for me to process my own grievances.
“Send them in when they arrive,” I directed, and Iraj nodded before ducking back out of the tent.
“Rian, let me take her—” Ciaran attempted to speak, but I held up my hand to silence him.
I was furious, with both Nuala and myself, but I had no wish to hurt or humiliate anyone.
“Nuala, I would like to—”
“I do not wish to discuss it anymore, Rian. I heard you very clearly,” she cut in coldly.
“I need to—” I tried again to apologize.
“The emissary brings word that the altars will soon be awakened. You must not allow that to happen until you have replaced the monarchs or they will be too strong. Good night,” she added more quietly, and then turned for the front of the yurt with her face averted from me.
I reacted before I could stop myself and stalked into her path to grab her arm.
“You cannot walk around the camp alone!” I objected. Although it was the thought of her walking away after I’d clearly hurt her that had my heart in my throat.
Nuala did not look back at me but raised her head to look at Ornella who stood with her arms crossed.
“I’ll take you,” the dryad reassured her and marched over to dislodge my grip on Nuala.
“Take her to your tent for the night. I think some time apart is in order,” Ciaran instructed Ornella, and he was completely unapologetic when I turned to gape at him.
Ornella was unenthused at the prospect of sharing her tent with anyone, but she nodded in agreement. A vicious mixture of possessive frustration and confusion swelled within me as I watched her take Nuala out of the tent.
“Just sleep on it,” Ciaran insisted when my feet moved without my permission to go after her. “Sweet Elements, only you could be presented with the gift of a mate and opt to spit on her instead,” he muttered.
I turned away from the door and strode quickly back to the table where I tried to refocus myself.
“A gift, Ciaran, really? You were there when the naiad told the story of a male she loved who was claimed by a dreíocha and taken from her,” I rebuked him.
“I was there. But I now suspect we may remember her tale rather differently,” he informed me.
“Since when do you care about such things?” I asked him defensively. “You barely tolerated Ornella for Sage, but you suddenly want to champion Nuala?”
“I made a mistake with Ornella. One which I am trying not to make with Nuala,” he explained himself calmly.
I sighed and shook my head at him. “I do not wish to speak of it any longer. I never wanted a mate, and that is certainly not changing now!” I declared.
“Be that as it may, you have one. So unless you intend to reject her and cause you both untold pain, then it seems you had better get used to it,” he insisted with a shrug.
The tent opened before I could reply, and Iraj walked in with the frost giant from the Winter Court.
“Hügel,” I greeted the male I recognized once he had stopped before me and bowed.
The Jotunn warrior was over eight feet tall with broad shoulders and a wide chest. His skin was a dark blue with what looked like frost patterns on it.
His head was bald, but his beard and eyebrows were white and frozen with icicles that were already beginning to melt.
He dressed in fur and leather, and the spear he carried nearly brushed the fourteen-foot ceiling in the war yurt.
“Rian,” he acknowledged me in return, his voice deep and grating like a rockslide. “We heard about the collapse of Spring Court,” he told me in Eisreichn, the common tongue of the Winter Court. “It was Balor who did it?”
“Yes, he took his loyal followers by the thousands into the Vale and it destabilized his court,” I answered him in the same language.
“We are still searching for King Ymir. We do not wish to see our people destroyed in the same manner.”
“I am working on a solution that will prevent Riordan from attempting to collapse any more courts on purpose,” I reassured him. “What news do you bring of Kaldthjem? Have you discovered whether Cian O’Duinn actually took anything from the archives?”
“We have determined there were some things taken,” the giant admitted as Ciaran moved to stand at my side with his arms crossed.
Hügel inclined his head to my rider before he continued speaking.
“It seems that the Summer druid took the Blade of Tausend Sonnen, a Leere stone, the Sjel Rings, a poison blade, one ceremonial dagger for channelling, and three runic stones for shielding.”
There was silence for a moment as Ciaran and I both absorbed the list thoughtfully.
“I understand why he took the sword, but why would he take the other things? It is all magic that he can easily perform for himself,” Ciaran pointed out.
“He took it for someone else,” I guessed, and Ciaran grunted in agreement.
“He also took the oldest texts we had on the creation of the First Altars,” Hügel revealed. “Specifically how to read and use the runic language on them and where they are located in Uile Breithà. Along with a newer text on the descendants of the Aegiani empaths in Atlantis.”
Nuala said something about altars, Ciaran recalled privately through our bond.
She had, although I had been too distracted to process her words fully at the time.
The First Altars were so old they had all but passed into myth and legend.
What I knew of them came from my uncle’s stories about their creation by the first kings and queens of the Four Courts.
As far as I remembered, they were conduits of power that helped concentrate the Tithriall and even magnify it.
They were so powerful they acted like anchors between the worlds.
Each altar had been protected by the guardians of each of the fey kings and queens; the Draugr in Autumn, the Jotunn in Winter, the Druids in Summer, and Kelpies in Spring.
When the last Summer Queen was killed, the altars were powered down to weaken the fey, and we never regained the unity to repower them again.
“I suspect he will begin with the Summer altar if he really is attempting to awaken these ancient sites. Do we know where it is?” I asked Hügel, who inclined his head.
“Then we should both send warriors to guard that location and watch for him. Remember that he is a Realm Walker who can move through the veils with ease so capturing him will be rather difficult.”
“What if the Summer Queen will be reemerging soon? Perhaps he knows where she is!” guessed Ciaran.
“It is possible,” I acknowledged, although she would be of little consequence to me as a new queen with virile magic to revive her court. It was the old kings and queens whose power I sought to renew.
“What happens if he reawakens the altars? Could it be a good thing?” asked Hügel.
“It would make the current monarchs more powerful, which would be good if they were willing to help. As they are not, it will only make my task of replacing them all the more difficult,” I admitted.
“Will he even be able to do such a thing? It would require a great deal of energy to make the altar stir again after all this time,” Ciaran pointed out.
Before I could respond, there was a commotion at the front of the tent. I could see the canvas door was being bumped as Iraj tried to prevent someone from entering.
“My apologies!” cried Iraj just as someone very small burst into the yurt and came running toward me.
It was Sammy, the faun we had sent to the Vale with a letter from Ornella for her friend. I had thought he must have been captured or killed, so I was greatly relieved to see he had managed to return home.
“It is alright,” I reassured Iraj as Sammy skidded to a stop right in front of me. “Sammy, I am glad to see you.”
“Your Highness! I apologize for the delay, but I was taken prisoner!” panted the faun with his usual dramatics. “Is it true about Spring Court and Sage?” he asked with eyes that pleaded for a reassurance I could not give him.
“It is true, Sammy. The Spring Court is gone, and Sage was taken away,” I admitted with a glance at Hügel who appeared grim at the news. He had always liked Sage.
Sammy’s tiny shoulders drooped, and his lip began to quiver while his eyes teared up.
“Are you alright? How did you get free?” I asked in an effort to divert Sammy before he asked questions about my cousin, which I could not answer.
“They just let me go! They did not want me to speak to Lady Amira at first, but I demanded it like you said to!”
“Why did they release you, Sammy?” asked Ciaran suspiciously, and I caught flickers of his shadows darting across the faun’s hooves. I could feel him trying to assess whether there was any foreign magic on the faun.
“For this,” Sammy proclaimed as he produced a neatly folded piece of parchment, which I took despite Ciaran’s warning hiss. “Lady Amira wrote back to Lady Ornella!”