Chapter 13

13

K yrie

The fae soldiers approach. As they draw closer, I note that the crest on their chests is indeed that of the shadowfae. Their horses snort and prance, also dressed in similar armor plates. The beasts are almost as impressive as the fae themselves.

The one large male in the middle of the formation has armor of pure bronze. The plume on his head is red instead of black. His big, black steed prances as he moves ahead of the group.

They’re armed to the teeth, with swords strapped at their sides and across their backs. A couple of them have bows and arrows in quivers on their backs. Many more carry spears, including the leader, who looks down at us with disdain in his eyes.

By now, the two fae have Cyrano back where he started. His camel bellows, making its presence known.

The female is relatively calm, considering, and is still tied to a dead tree.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Two humans and a fae. That’s truly an odd combination if I ever saw one. Camels instead of horses.” He lifts his brows.

“We were merely passing through, hoping to find water and continue on our journey,” I tell him. Maybe they will let us go. From the look in his eye, I know it isn’t going to happen, but I have to try, anyway.

The leader of the shadowfae regards me with a cold stare. “Passing through, you say?”

“Yes…um…exactly.” I nod too many times.

“Let the humans go on their way. You can take me as a prisoner.” Damon folds his arms across his chest.

“ I can take you .” He rubs his chin like he’s thinking it through. “You’re giving me permission, icefae?” He chuckles. It’s low and throaty. “I can do whatever I want. I am General Belen of the Shadowfae Court.”

“What brings you to the kingdom of the emptyfae, General? You are a long way from home,” Damon asks, maintaining eye contact with the leader.

“Merely two days’ ride, but that is neither here nor there and certainly no concern of yours.” He looks to his left and then to his right. “Guards, seize them.”

The shadowfae soldiers move quickly, surrounding us with weapons drawn. I can feel the tension in the air, a heavy silence settling over us as they close in. I grab Damon’s arm. He keeps his eyes fixed on Belen, not acknowledging me at all. The general’s hair is pitch black, like a moonless night. His eyes, too.

“These two lowly humans are useless to you. Let them go.” Damon’s voice is steady, unwavering.

General Belen chuckles, a cold sound that sends shivers down my spine. “Oh, such bravery is commendable. It isn’t going to work, so you can save it. Tie them up. All of them.”

The guards advance, their swords gleaming in the dim light. There’s determination in their eyes, the thrill of victory evident in their stances.

Why do they look so smug? It’s like they were chasing us and are content now that we have been caught, but that is ridiculous. Unless the fae from the salt mines got word out already about escaped prisoners. Surely the emptyfae and the shadowfae wouldn’t be working together? Although the different fae used to live in harmony once upon a time, that is no longer the case. There isn’t outright war, but skirmishes are not unheard of. Unless things have changed. Two years is a long time. Having said that, I doubt it very much.

Boots squelch in mud and thud against the firmer patches of ground as the fae approach.

“No. Leave me alone!” Cyrano yells, trying to run again. Two of the fae strongarm him to the ground. One of them puts a knee to his back. Cyrano yells and flails.

Several guards surround us, their weapons pointed at our throats. The cold metal presses against my skin, a stark reminder of our dire situation. The impending threat of violence hangs over us like a storm cloud. My blood feels chilled in my veins.

“Don’t try anything, icefae. Although, I would imagine that your magic is hardly usable out here. You are a very long way from home indeed,” the general says.

Damon remains defiant, his gaze locked with General Belen’s as he stands tall. There is a silent exchange, clearly a battle of wills between the two fae.

A guard grabs my arm; another is ready with the rope.

“You don’t need to tie up a tiny human female,” Damon says in a quiet voice that is anything but calm.

The general sighs. “Fine, but she will ride one of the horses up front with me. The males can ride the camels. Tie them both up. Stab the icefae in each of his limbs if he tries anything but remember that I want him alive. Those are our orders.”

Damon’s eyes narrow. He looks confused. I can’t say I blame him.

What orders?

What’s going on?

“Don’t! No! Unhand me!” Cyrano continues to shout, trying to free himself of his binds.

“Gag him.” The general rolls his eyes. “It’ll be a long journey otherwise.”

His shouts are quickly cut off as one of the guards does as the general commands. I am lifted onto one of the large horses. It feels different to riding a camel. Different to riding a regular farm horse. Although massive, the beast feels as light as a feather in my hands.

The animal beneath me is also strong and sensitive. It feels tense and ready. Nothing like our horse, Tessy. She mainly pulled the plow or the carriage, but from time to time, my sister and I would ride her. I feel my eyes prick all over again when I think of home. When I think of our current predicament.

Once Damon and Cyrano are tied up, they mount up, and we set off at a steady pace. The countryside doesn’t change much. Neither does the sky. It’s all gloom and doom. Depression and sorrow settle over me like a thick, wet coat.

“This is not the way to the Shadow Court, General.” Damon’s deep voice comes from somewhere behind us. I twist in my saddle for a moment. He is farther back than expected, with Cyrano a little behind him. Their hands are tied in front of them so that they can hold the reins. Just like me, they are flanked by several fae guards. Damon especially.

The chance of escape is little to none. I don’t think that there were this many fae in the salt mine. What chance do we have?

“That’s because we’re not headed for the Shadow Court,” the general tosses over his shoulder.

“Where then?” Damon asks.

“It’s no concern of yours, icefae,” Belen says almost under his breath. “You will find out soon enough.”

“It’s the Ice Court, isn’t it? You’re taking us to her.”

“One more word and you will be gagged too,” General Belen says in a booming voice.

All is silent except for the thud of the horses’ hooves against the ground…and the thud of my heart.

To her.

Her.

Who is this “her”? I think I might know; I only pray that I am wrong.

We ride, and we ride. We ride until my legs and back hurt. We ride until I have to cling to my horse’s mane to stay on. Until I have to crouch forward to stop from swaying in the saddle. It feels like many hours have passed, though I cannot be certain in this unchanging landscape of gray and desolation. I’m so used to using the sun to tell the time that without it, I am lost. From the ache in my body and the dryness of my mouth, I am sure it has been a good long while. Too long.

Finally, the general puts his hand up, and we come to an abrupt halt. It happens so suddenly that I am flung forward, falling from my horse and landing with a splash on the muddy ground just in front of the beast. My horse snorts and prances, looking at me with disgust as I sit up in the muck.

There is a commotion behind me.

I look back and see Damon standing in front of his camel with five or six spears aimed at his chest. There is a look of concern on his face…for me. He should be more worried about himself.

“I’m fine.” I force myself to get up onto trembling legs. “Please don’t hurt him,” I say in a voice that trembles just as much. The soldiers lower their swords and I can breathe more easily.

“We will set up camp here for the night,” the general instructs his soldiers, who immediately spring into action, dismounting their horses and getting to work.

We are forced to sit back-to-back, surrounded by four guards, two of whom are focused on Damon, while camp is set up. Within no time, a whole array of tents is put up. The horses and even our camels are seen to, and treated with the utmost care.

“You do know that it is against the law to be with a fae, human?” one of the guards says to me, looking down his nose.

“We are not together,” Damon rasps.

Another guard rubs his chin. “You look ‘together’ to me. The touches, then there are the looks you give one another. The way she is looking at you right now is a dead giveaway.” The guard turns his dark eyes on me.

Damon growls, “Leave her alone.”

“See.” The first one laughs. “You are protective of her in a way that can only exist between lovers. Do you enjoy fae cock, human?”

I gasp at the crassness of his question.

“Leave her alone or—”

“Or what? You have no magic to speak of.”

“Or you will die. I don’t need magic to make it happen.” Damon’s tone leaves no doubt in my mind that he means it. Damon might manage to kill that one guard, but he won’t stand a chance against them all. He’ll be cut down and gutted in a heartbeat.

“We are friends,” I tell the guard. “That is all.”

The smile Damon gives me has everything in me warming. He quickly schools his emotions, but not before the guards see.

“That right there is the look I mean. That’s not how a friend would look at a friend. Relationships between our species are strictly against the law. You will be jailed for—”

“I’ll be jailed anyway,” I blurt in a curt tone. “Or made to work in one of your mines…or worse. What does it matter? I don’t care what you think or about your rules. Believe what you will.”

“Nothing will change for you, but your lover over here will be sent to one of the fighting pits. A strong fae like you might actually last a while.” He laughs cruelly.

“The general wants to see the prisoners,” another guard says as he approaches. He is taller than the others; and leaner, too.

We are marched to the biggest tent of them all. The flap is pulled back and we enter. There is a crackling fire in the center of the airy tent.

The general is standing in front of the flames; his hands are clasped behind his back. His eyes are sharp as they flick over each of us in turn. He looks like he has washed and changed, his armor hanging in the far corner.

“Ah, come on in.” General Belen’s voice is silky smooth. “I trust you’ve been offered something to drink.”

Damon steps forward, his jaw clenched. “Where are you taking us?”

The general raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “All in good time, icefae. All in good time.”

I swallow hard, trying to push down the rising fear in my chest. The shadows seem to dance around Belen; a sinister aura clings to him like a cloak. “We haven’t been offered anything to drink.” I’m parched. My tongue is sticking to the roof of my mouth. My lips feel like they could crack open at any moment. I’m sure the others must feel the same.

“How rude of my guards.” He hands me a skin. “Drink your fill, and then we can sit and have a talk. You can remove the binds.” He flaps his hand.

Why do I hate the sound of that? A talk. It sounds sinister.

I take a few gulps from the fat skin as a guard removes the binds from Damon, and then I hand it to him. He drinks his fill, giving it back to me. I drink down a few more mouthfuls when Cyrano starts moaning against his gag.

“You can remove that, but I want no more outbursts from you,” the general tells him.

Cyrano moans some more.

“Very well, you can remove his binds as well as the gag,” he instructs me.

It takes me a few fumbled attempts before I get it loose. As soon as his hands are free, Cyrano pulls away his gag and says, “This fae has been talking against the queen.”

My mouth drops open. I can’t believe what I am hearing.

“Treason!” he booms. “It’s all treason, I tell you,” Cyrano goes on, taking a step toward the general. “Kyrie and I have nothing to do with it. It’s him, all him.” He points at Damon.

“What are you doing?” I yell at the stupid idiot. He’s trying to save himself – me, too – but at what cost? “He’s talking nonsense,” I tell the general. “Don’t listen to the ramblings of a fool.”

I glance at Damon, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t respond in any way. Doesn’t even try to defend himself.

“You have the wool pulled over your eyes. He isn’t your friend,” Cyrano speaks fast, his face turning red. “He is a liar.” He glares at Damon. “And not to be trusted. Ask him who he is, General. Ask!”

The general folds his arms across his chest. He has an amused look on his face. He quirks a brow. “Why not? What is your name, icefae?”

I see something flash across Damon’s face. I’m not sure what it is exactly. Regret maybe. “Damon,” he says, holding his head high.

The general’s lips twitch, but he quickly schools his emotions.

“Where did the three of you come from?” He folds his arms, looking at each of us in turn. He is smirking like he has all the answers already. I think he does. I think this is a game to him.

There are orders to take Damon to the Ice Court. To her. Orders not to kill him. General Belen is toying with us.

“We—” Cyrano starts to say.

“No,” I tell him. “You’ve said enough.”

“Why are you protecting him?” Cyrano yells at me. “Ask him about the markings on his back, General Belen.”

Damon’s eyes harden, and his jaw tightens. If I hadn’t been paying attention, I would have missed it. “It’s nothing.” He shrugs.

“Not nothing.” Cyrano shakes his head. “Damon told us that he used to be very powerful. He isn’t a nobody. He had a spell cast over him. He thought he was human. The spell was broken when—”

“That’s enough.” I slap the bastard across the face, my hand stinging. “What is wrong with you? You’re the traitor.”

Cyrano holds a hand to his reddening cheek. “I should be asking the same of you. What is wrong with you, Kyrie? Why in Kakara’s name do you defend this prick?”

“This is all very interesting.” The general looks thoughtful. He turns to Damon, narrowing his eyes. “Did you speak against our queen?”

“He did. He—” Cyrano starts to say.

“I have heard enough from you, human,” the general tells Cyrano. There is a bite to his voice.

Cyrano takes a stumbling step back as if physically struck.

“Answer my question,” the general says to Damon in the next breath.

Damon stays silent for a moment, his eyes locked with the general’s. Finally, he speaks in a low, steady voice. “Yes, it is true. I have a marking on my back, and I was once powerful, but those days are long gone.” He shrugs.

“Is it true that you spoke against the queen? I want the truth.” The air around the general seems to darken. His eyes seem to darken, too, which is almost impossible, as they are already black as night.

My hands turn clammy in an instant. I try to control my breathing. I don’t want to give anything away.

“It’s true! I swear, General,” Cyrano shouts.

“If you speak out of turn one more time, I will remove your tongue with my bare hands.”

Cyrano turns pale. He swallows hard and looks down at his shoes.

“The queen usurped the crown and corrupts our lands. She—” Damon starts to say as my heart sinks.

Before he can say anything more, the general lifts his hands, sweeping them from left to right. The tent turns pitch black in an instant. The air rushes past us. No, I realize in horror. It isn’t the air. It’s shadows. They’re inky black and very nearly have substance. My hair blows about my face. It’s hard to breathe. They are everywhere. My skin crawls.

Out.

I need to get out.

I can’t leave him. I have to find Damon.

“Damon!” I scream.

Someone grabs my hand and pulls me. It’s not him. I’m not sure how I know, only that I do. His skin feels wrong. The shape of the hand too. All of it is wrong.

I attempt to break free. “Damon!” I scream again, my voice barely penetrating the swirling shadows. I try to walk deeper but I am blocked. The shadows won’t let me pass. The crawling on my skin gets worse.

Cyrano pulls me back to him. He puts his arms around me and yanks me off my feet. I try to fight, but it is useless. He is a big man in his own right, even if he has nothing on Damon.

We burst out from the tent a few moments later and there’s instant relief and instant clawing fear because Damon is still inside there.