Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

Cassia

The House of Death's castle looms before me as our horses race closer, and my breath hitches at the sight of it. The castle is an imposing fortress, with ebony spires cutting a stark silhouette against the sky. But more than how it looks, the way I feel when I look at it troubles me. There's a deep sense of emptiness that radiates from the structure, like it'd been abandoned long ago.

If I didn't have to come to this place, I wouldn't. I'd avoid it like the damn plague.

Our horses' hooves clatter against the worn, crumbled cobblestone path that leads to the castle's gates, and the sound rings inside of me awakening a sense of fear that I don't understand. Or perhaps I do. Through my dreams, I know this place. I know some of the horrors it contains and what the people within it are willing to do in order to achieve their own goals. Which is terrifying.

But it's not just that I know I have to face what's coming. The enormity of the task ahead sits in my stomach like a hot brick. My men are in there, and I can't leave until they're out, no matter what it costs me. For some reason, a reason I don't understand, I'm willing to do anything I have to in order to get them back. Even face dangerous fae.

I won't feel good again until they're safe. What happens from there, I don't know.

It's strange, just a short time ago the fae were above me. As much as I sometimes mocked them, as much as a part of me hated them, I've also come to realize they frightened me. They had so much power over me. One wrong move and my life was over. It wasn't good for me to think that way, so I tried not to, but since coming out from under their feet, I've begun to realize just how exhausting being afraid all the time was.

Now, I'm afraid, but for different reasons. I might have been a powerless human at one point, but now I'm a fae too. Engaged to four princes. And I might not have awesome powers, but I think I can figure out a way to save the princes.

I hope.

Next to me, Lady Nova slows her horse, and I follow suit, until we're nearly at a walking pace beside each other. I'm breathing hard, but I don't know why. I'm waiting for her to say something, but I'm not sure what.

"Is there a reason we slowed?"

She glances at me, her expression thoughtful.

"Not sure about my choice of outfit? Or is my hair all wrong? I've never met an evil Keeper of Death before."

She huffs out a breath and rolls her eyes. "I was trying to decide how best to approach this, but I'm just going to dive right into it, since I want you to survive."

"Comforting."

She pushes on, ignoring my sarcasm. "You must enter as the queen of the four courts. Carry yourself like you already own the title. If you don't assert yourself from the start, they'll devour you. You must be the most powerful, most regal, most untouchable queen they've ever seen. Show them you're not someone to be fucked around with."

I feel it then, that familiar rush, that surge of energy building inside me, thumping like a heartbeat. My magic. I pause. It's much stronger right now than it's been, and the feeling is disorienting.

"My magic… feels stronger."

She lifts a brow. "Not surprising."

"What do you mean?"

She shakes her head. "Just a theory."

"Care to share?" I ask, trying to hide my annoyance, and failing.

"Not yet. Just focus on what I said. There'll be time for conversations later. Be the queen of the four courts. Demand what you want, or you won't get it." Then she gives me a look. "Demand it, politely , with all the honeyed words of a fae royal."

Honeyed words? Shit. I don't have any of those. I have sarcasm. Can I dress that up?

But I don't say that. I just nod at Lady Nova and turn to face the castle. With each step the horses take closer to the castle, the surge and rumble of my power grows. At least, I think it does. Whatever the feeling, it's strange and uncomfortable.

At the gate to the castle, two guards stand on each side. I glance at them, then back to the road ahead, then do a double take. Holy hell, the guards are… dead?

"Lady Nova…?"

"Yes," she says, not even looking at them. "Because of the House of Death's ways, humans fear them. More and more have fled their village, leaving no one to serve them. And because they kill their young if they don't show considerable powers at birth, their numbers have dwindled too. They used to use the dead just as needed, but rumor is that most of their castle is made up of the dead now. Be prepared to see a lot of them."

"But, how do they…?"

"Just like you started a fire. It's effortless for the most powerful of them. I've heard it said when they're emotions are strong, they can make any dead around them rise."

Suddenly, something occurs to me. "When I was kidnapped, dead creatures were following me. Could the Keeper of Death have been involved?" Or what about the raven?

She looks disturbed for the briefest moment before her lips pull into a thin line. "Possibly. We have no idea how long she's been planning this."

After we pass under the gate and into the courtyard, Lady Nova gives me a look. A shut-the-hell - up look.

I nod. Okay, royal fucking badass fae queen from here on out. I can do this.

She gets off her horse in a smooth motion and grasps my reins, indicating that I should climb down. It's weird. She's been doing a lot for me, but this is something she's doing to send a clear message that she's almost in a position of servitude to me. It's uncomfortable, but I guess I have to get used to my new role.

"Is the sky always so… cloudy at the House of Death?" I ask as we start up stairs leading to large doors.

"From what I hear, always," she says, and I sense she's done with the chit chat .

The door opens for us as we reach the top step of the castle. A pale, ghostly servant stands before me, his eyes vacant. His frame is so thin that I wonder if they even have food in this place.

Lady Nova elbows me.

I clear my throat, standing up taller. "We're here to speak to the House of Death about my princes."

The servant narrows his eyes as he assesses me. "Then you seek the Keeper of Death," he replies in a monotone voice, his bony hand pointing toward a foreboding passageway. "But your servant may not accompany you." His gaze shifts to Lady Nova.

I glance at Lady Nova, careful to not look for her approval. We nod slightly at one another as if I'm dismissing her, but her nod is the reassuring anchor of trust she has in me. I should keep going, and she has faith I can do it.

Or she's just saying, quit wasting time, you don't have a choice . I'm not sure which. Either way, I have to get going. I have to do this.

"I'll be back," I say.

She nods. "The four courts are with you."

Inside the castle, darkness suddenly surrounds me. For all the windows I saw on the outside, no natural light filters into the place. The only light comes from torches on the walls. Torches that are far more spread out than they should be leave massive pools of darkness between the sparks of light.

To think I thought the outside of this place was unsettling…

The servant lifts a hand and points. "Go down this hall, always going straight. It'll go deep into the ground, into the sacred space, and there you'll find her, the Keeper of Death."

"Thank you," I say.

The servant doesn't respond, doesn't blink. He just stands, looking like a ghost in the dark castle. And, somehow, my heart goes out to him. Death is bleak. Terrible. No matter how you look at it.

I walk in the direction the servant pointed me in. Living dead move around the halls in every direction. They're in all forms of death from decaying bodies to ghostly figures, and even servants whose bodies are decayed to the point of being skeletons. Each one that I pass pauses and stares at me, but they don't move towards me or attack, which is somehow not as reassuring as I imagined it might be. I consider reaching for my dagger but decide it'd probably be better not to start a fight when they're not being aggressive.

Especially when they outnumber me, and I don't know what they're capable of.

Yet, they make me feel weird. Something in my mind feels a connection to them. If I close my eyes, I'm pretty sure I'd feel cords running from me to them. Is that normal? Is that because we're all connected to the dead in one way or another? I don't know, but I don't have time to investigate them.

I pass more undead. They stare. Wordless. Unsettlingly.

"So, just keep going down the dark, creepy hallway?" I ask, flashing a smile to the undead.

They all lift their arms and point forward.

Unsettling. "Thanks," I say, and keep going.

But at least it's kind of cool they respond to me when they're like that. I don't know how. If it's because they're being controlled, or because they have some life left in them, but I'm sure I'll figure it out one day.

I reach a staircase that appears to go deep into the bottom of the castle. As I begin my descent, I get that strange feeling again. Like something powerful and unexpected is building inside of me. Is this place some kind of power source for the fae? I have so many questions about my powers and how they work, but that'll have to wait for when I'm safely back home with the princes.

My steps echo in the cold, damp silence of the catacombs. I can hear the walls of bones whispering the long-forgotten tales of pain and suffering hidden here, and the whispers feed something in my soul, awakening the same unhappy feelings inside of me. Focusing on each step takes away some of the strength of the whispers, so I do. I pray this gets easier while knowing it won't.

This place is strange. I don't like it. It feels… powerful and dangerous all at once.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I enter a chamber of crypts and restless dead, whose hollow eyes seem to be fixed on me. Dozens of dead guards line the wall like sentinels, an eerie army of death. Each looks frozen in time, their armor and weapons rusted and worn, but they stand ready for battle if it comes.

Then I see her, seated on a throne with roots curling behind her. Something about her is both strangely familiar and so alien that I almost wonder if she's even a fae. Her hair is long and dark. Her gray gown clings to her like spiderwebs encasing her form, and she's painfully thin. She's beautiful, in an unsettling way.

As I draw closer, her power surges towards me, taking my breath away. And now I know it's some of the power that I've been feeling. The power within her almost hums to the power within me. Like two wolves howling to one another, or two breezes mixing. Regardless, her power is overwhelming. I get the sense that she could end my life with just the flick of her wrist.

Yet, her expression is unexpected as her eyes fall on me. She's studying me, eyes wide, taking me in like she's been waiting for this moment, and it's unsettling. Surely, she's heard the rumors about me. She has to believe I'm some powerless creature with only a drop of power to my name, so why be fascinated by me?

Because I'm the soon-to-be queen of the four courts. That's right. I have to be the queen of the four courts. I can't forget. I can do this.

I stand up straighter and approach. "Keeper of Death," I greet, but I don't bow. A queen doesn't bow.

"Queen of the Four Courts," she responds, and there's an edge of something in her voice, maybe respect.

"Where are they?" I say, and nothing more. She knows who I'm talking about.

She smiles. Fucking smiles . And it hits me. I hate her. I hate her with every ounce of my being for hurting my men. For being the reason for all of this.

She motions with her hands.

I hear a whisper of noise. The air in the room changes, growing even colder. So cold that I see my breath in front of my face. Then I hear the rattle of chains and the rattle of bones, both such recognizable sounds that it sends a shiver down my spine.

My resolve wavers when my eyes are drawn to my men as they're hauled in and shoved to the ground where they're bound. They have iron chains around their necks, wrists, and ankles, but, somehow, that's not the worst part. All the injuries I saw in my dreams are there, and more .

I clench my fists. "Unchain them."

A broader smile dances across her lips. "You're bold."

My chin rises. "I'm not someone you want to piss off."

"Cassia." My name is a rasp of pain from Prince Sulien's lips, but all four of them are staring at me.

There's no faith in their gazes. No hope in their eyes. Just desperation and fear. These are not the men I knew, and I'm going to make this woman feel every drop of pain she caused them, no matter how I have to do it.

"Trust me," I tell them quietly. Even though they have no reason to.

The Keeper of Death sits on her throne with a look of amusement on her face as if to say the cute little human thinks she can come in and just save her four princes. I'm not that naive. She must think I was raised on fairy tales and fucking happily-ever-afters. She can't know I was brought up in the trenches, but she'll see soon enough.

"We need to talk," I tell her as a calm settles over me.

A chilling smile curves the Keeper of Death's pale lips. "I've been waiting a long time for this conversation."