55. Veyka

Every single one of them wore amorite. The slimy snake shifter I'd wounded wore a torque around his neck. The whisper-thin female that stood on the other side of the throne was practically dripping with gems—they fell in ornate configurations from her ears, a three-tiered necklace at her throat, multiple sparkling rings. The lord's circlet was studded with them, as was the prominent signet ring on his left hand.

But it was not just the ruling trio. The guards stationed around the perimeter of the throne room each wore matching metal torques, two large chunks of amorite on each end with a gap of maybe an inch of bare skin at the base of the throat.

A reference to the mines commanded by the residents of Castle Chariot, or something more?

Arran was at my side, rigid as we approached the throne at the end of the great hall. The layout of the castle was similar to Eilean Gayl, though built on a barren plain instead of an island in the middle of a lake. But the black walls around us were foreboding. They swallowed all the light. Not a single tapestry or banner hung to soften the effect. Arrayed around us were our companions, though I counted no less than twenty guards, ten on each side. Plus the trio waiting on the throne.

It could not be described as anything else. And on it sat the lord that had appeared briefly on the battlements above the gatehouse, his booming voice projecting unnaturally across the field. I'd have thought he had a wind-wielder in his employ, except that most elementals thought their terrestrial counterparts little better than beasts. An elemental would never willingly serve a terrestrial. And terrestrials loathed elementals just as much. I could still taste the fear I'd felt in the moments after Isolde's disappearance. A potent reminder as we faced this new foe.

"Welcome, Venerated Royal Majesties," the male said, his voice only slightly modulated now that we were indoors. "I am Lord Palomides, keeper of Castle Chariot and Guardian of the Mines."

Not the amorite mines. Just mines. It could mean nothing.

But I doubted that.

Everything about this male was calculated.

I looked him over slowly. So slow, there was no way to miss the insolence.

No, insolence was the wrong word. That implied a power dynamic that did not exist.

Palomides of the Mines might think he had the advantage here. But he had no idea what he was facing, no matter what stories he'd heard about the Queen of Secrets and her Brutal Prince.

"You will forgive me, Palomides," I drawled, tilting my chin so the braid across my forehead fell back, and my ears were fully visible. He was not the only one dripping in amorite. "In Baylaur, it is customary for vassals to bow before the High Queen."

He did not move.

Arran did—so slightly, that I was certain I was the only one who had noted it. Palomides had chosen to fixate on me. Under other circumstances, I would have been pleased to be perceived as the bigger threat. Now it made me wonder—what rumors were spreading across Annwyn about Arran? Surely no one knew the details of his injury, but that he'd been parted from his queen and mate… those would be impossible to quell.

The ramifications difficult to predict.

Just like my mate.

He did not reach for the battle axe at his belt. There was no need.

The growl filled the hall, so deep at first that I felt it before I heard it. A slight reverberation, building with each second, until it thrummed in my eardrums. Not just for me, this time, but for everyone. The guards lining the walls shifted on their feet.

It filled the space around us until it felt like the force of Arran's power had sucked all of the air from the room.

I did not need air, not when I had the essence of him to feast upon.

"You will not disappoint my queen, Palomides." The Brutal Prince did not ask. He commanded.

I wanted to reach for his hand, to speak into his mind and tell him what those words meant. No memory at all, and yet still he understood. Maybe it was the mating bond. Maybe his beast. I did not fucking care. The possessiveness and threat in those words touched the broken part of me that had been ripped asunder.

Feet scraped against the ground—Palomides rising. I imagined I could hear his bones creak as he knelt on the floor, and I fantasized about what it would feel like to snap a few of them.

The two younger terrestrials remained stock still on either side of the throne.

I clicked my tongue, and they sprang into motion. They lacked the elder's grace of movement, sinking into awkward bows that revealed their inexperience. They might stand on either side of Palomides' makeshift throne, but neither of these terrestrials had been coached in courtly manners.

When all three sets of knees pressed firmly to the floor, I exhaled a slow, appreciative sound.

"Very good," I purred, so softly that it almost could have been a hum, an exhale, not a word at all.

But Palomides heard it. His mouth tightened as he pulled himself back to his feet.

I was drunk on the power of it, tempted to remind him that he should stay on his knees until I invited him to stand. But that would be counterproductive. He'd knelt before all of his guards, his wards, and witnesses from the elemental and terrestrial kingdoms. That would do.

For now.

I flicked my hand, and the others rose. Arran did not move from my side.

Palomides elected to stand before his throne, rather than seat himself in our presence. Wise choice.

"We did not receive word of your visit," our host said, tenting his fingers in front of his body.

"And yet, you were well prepared for us," Arran said. There was no inflection in his voice, but he did not need it. He was terrifying on his own. Maybe that was the best course of action—pretend that there was nothing amiss. If he acted as if he had something to prove, it would only spur rumors.

Arran Earthborn did not explain himself or cater to the whims of a would-be lord. He was the most powerful fae in millennia. His power spoke for itself.

Palomides merely shrugged. "Castle Chariot is unfortunately situated. We have had to take unconventional measures to defend ourselves."

I wondered how many shifters had hidden in the woods, reporting upon our approach. The serpent, who now stood at his side, could not be the only one.

"Did your predecessor employ similar defenses?" I cut in. As I spoke, I fingered the hilt of my dagger in its jeweled scabbard. Shifted my shoulders to accentuate the twin rapiers sheathed there.

Palomides recognized the threat, but his dark eyes were amused, rather than wary. "He did not."

This time, I beat him to the shrug. "More the pity, him."

He smiled, a poisonous thing that reckoned mine for wickedness. "Indeed."

In the elemental kingdom, it would have been a crime punishable by death and torture to eliminate an ancient, noble house. But on this side of the Split Sea, where strength ruled, anything worth having was open to challenge.

I desperately wished to speak to Arran. We should have spoken before this, but we were so damned skittish of each other. We should have come into this hall with a plan—more of a plan. I'd been sorting through possibilities from the moment the black castle had appeared on the horizon.. But he'd asked me to stay out of his mind—ordered me, actually.

And I would not force myself upon him.

Not yet.

I lifted my chin, affecting an air of boredom with the proceedings. Time to cut through the bullshit. "We require access to your mines," I said plainly.

Nothing in Palomides' face shifted. He knew why we'd come, then.

But still, he said, "Which ones? I possess many mines."

Ancestors-damned hell. I knew it. There was more to this terrestrial usurper styling himself as a lord. What other mines did he possess and would they be important to the war effort against the succubus?

I did not know what he wanted yet, but I doubted it would align with what was best for Annwyn. In which case, if we could not find sufficient leverage, we might have to take what we needed and ask questions later.

Palomides' life for the rest of my subjects was an easy trade.

The thin female on his left twitched, unused to standing still for such long periods. Three lives, then, for the safety of my kingdom.

I could certainly live with that. I'd survived worse.

But I'd play the game a few minutes longer.

I touched a hand to the shell of my ear as I spoke: "Amorite."

That serpentine smile deepened. "Amorite is very valuable. Is it possible the elemental kingdom is not as prosperous as we terrestrials are taught to believe, that you must loot our kingdom to enrich your own?"

"It is all her kingdom," Arran said sharply. "And mine."

My heart surged with emotions I did not dare examine in the middle of the fraught negotiation.

Palomides bowed his chin, but his eyes were clear. "And yet you came here, to speak with me, rather than seizing the mines with your… considerable force."

Did he know about Barkke, ensconced in the woods?

Was he really arrogant enough to think that Arran and I could not slaughter him, his kin, and every guard here before they could make it to the outer bailey?

My fingers itched for my dagger.

"We have no wish for strife. You will be compensated for every stone we take from the mines," Arran countered.

He must have negotiated like this before; hundreds of times, maybe, over hundreds of years leading the terrestrial armies. Though if the legends were true, he'd mostly accepted surrenders.

"But to what purpose?" Palomides pushed.

Arran's face hardened.

My stomach turned.

Arran.

He did not respond. His gaze did not flicker.

I wasn't even sure what I would have said to him if he answered, what I would have asked. But to feel the caress of his beast, brushing against my consciousness, might have given me a measure of confidence that I was making the right choice.

Nothing came.

Bravado it is.

I shrugged off my cloak, tossing it toward the line of guards along the wall with total disregard. Nevermind that I would soon be shivering without it. This was about performance and cunning.

"Annwyn is beset by an ancient enemy." As I spoke, I walked to the young female. I dragged my eyes over her, like a predator about to eat. I reached for her throat. The male on the other side of the throne inhaled sharply. But the female did not flinch, even when my sharp fingernails grazed her throat as I lifted the heavy amorite necklace.

"The succubus comes at night, while men and males sleep in their beds, to feast upon their minds and turn their bodies into weapons." I recounted each detail as if I was reporting the weather. Detached. Bored.

"If you have not yet seen this horror, then consider yourself lucky and your time counted. The succubus will come for you eventually," I said. But I did not look at Palomides as I spoke. I gave him my back, knowing that Lyrena and Arran would die to protect it.

I looked into the female's dark eyes.

She did not flinch. But I knew the look of fear.

A wicked twist of my wrist, and the heavy necklace came apart in my hand. I slid it into my pocket and walked back to join Arran as if it—and she—were nothing.

Palomides was angry, though he tried to cover it. His hands were not tented anymore, but at his side in fists that were only half-buried by the floor-length robes he wore. They actually reminded me of the attire the priestesses in Avalon favored. But they were black, like everything else in this cursed castle.

I licked my lips, ready to finish my accounting. But Arran spoke.

"The amorite is one in an arsenal of weapons we will use to defeat the succubus." Arran may not be an elemental, and he certainly did not lie. But he had a way with words, a force that he put behind them, that was difficult to counter. It was power given sound. Death as a promise.

Palomides' mind and mouth recovered faster than his body. "The female you are so interested in is my niece, Synora. The one you stabbed, my nephew, Syros."

I bared my teeth at the latter.

Palomides was unmoved. "But I think now is the time to introduce you the last member of my court."

Court.

I wanted to cut the word from his lips. He might imagine himself a king, but I would not leave this cursed castle without disabusing him of that notion.

But first, the amorite.

Before we could speak, a door to the left of the throne opened.

It was a window into the void. A portal. A rift. This isn't possible. I grabbed for Arran's hand, waiting for the tingling sensation in my fingers. What was this? Would I be able to control it? I'd never encountered such magic—

Then the swirling stopped.

It was not swirling at all.

It was a body—a figure, moving out of the darkness. A figure that was the darkness.

He stepped into the hall, and the breath emptied from my body. As big as Arran. Just as broad, too. But that was not what was striking. It was the armor. Head to toe, not a single fraction of skin or clothing was visible. Just armor.

Black.

But not like the castle itself.

This black moved. It swirled and twinkled and sharpened. Like the night sky. Darker.

Like the void itself, given shape.

I felt sick.

Arran's fingers tightened around mine.

I was still holding Arran's hand.

"This is the Black Knight," Palomides said, his smile no longer worthy of the word. As he spoke, Palomides pounded his fist against the Black Knight's breastplate.

The metal did not move. Neither did the Black Knight.

But he was solid. Touching him was not a trick to free-fall into the void.

Inside me, something solidified as well. Or maybe that was because Arran was still holding my hand.

"I am not interested in payment, not of the sort you offer, in any case. In the terrestrial kingdom, we value strength. Prove that you are strong enough to take the amorite."

"I could prove that by killing you now."

"You could. But then you'd have to instill someone else in my place." Palomides said it because he knew it was a costly option. If I was as powerful as I'd intimated, even a hulking black knight in eerie armor should be no match for me. Maybe I should have played this differently—been a retiring female rather than a brazen one. But it was too late for that.

"Duel with the Black Knight. If you defeat him, you will have access to the mines," Palomides said simply.

It was anything but simple. A duel could encompass a thousand different scenarios. Would magic be in play? What magic did the Black Knight possess? Did that mysterious armor shift with him, or was he flora-gifted?

None of that mattered.

We needed the amorite. Annwyn needed it.

"If we defeat the Black Knight, we will have full and unconditional access to the amorite mines until such time as the High King and Queen concurrently decide to return them to you," I said slowly. I paused, waiting for Arran to interject.

His black eyes darted down to our joined hands, but he did not speak.

This was not just about proving my strength or worth. Palomides was up to something. I could feel the lies he spoke as they burrowed their way under my skin. But I could play his game. For now.

Palomides did let the opportunity for an amendment hang open. "Very well. But I shall set the terms of the duel."

"I accept."

Arran's eyes slammed into me with all the force of one of the black stones that built the castle around us. He dropped my hand, his eyes turning murderous.

Get in line,I wanted to say to him, or Lyrena will beat you to it.

But I did not.

"Synora and Syros will see to your accommodations. The duel shall take place after midday tomorrow." Palomides sank back onto his throne once again. Relaxed.

This had been his intent all along.

There was only one reason for us to come to this desolate castle. He had something we wanted, and he had known the price before we'd ever walked through the portcullis. Why he wanted us to duel… I'd use the time between now and the duel to figure that out.

I slowed my steps, falling in beside Kay as we followed Synora and Syros out of the great hall. Every step, I kept one eye fixed upon the Black Knight. That feeling in my stomach had not entirely quelled. I doubted it would. "What was Castle Chariot called before Palomides arrived?"

Kay followed my gaze, his grimace saying everything I could not. "Basdove."

The black death.