Chapter Seven

Sébastien emerged after an hour and tossed a key over. It tinked on the marble floor and skittered closer. "Unlock yourself and hand me the lead. You can leave the key there."

If he was being taken to his room, about time. Remus took the key from the floor and hastily freed the chain from the ring. Sébastien took the offered chain and led him out. He strode right by the door to Remus's room and out into the main halls.

"Erm, where are-"

"Be quiet."

Were they returning to the celebration downstairs? A good hour had gone by, and Remus figured the spectacle was still going on. The handler probably had all sorts of tricks for the child werewolf to do.

Sébastien took a strange route, and they ended up in a back passageway for servants. When they emerged from it on the bottom floor and closer to the entertainment room, Sébastien tugged him down a hall and abruptly stopped.

"Hold this. Don't move."

Remus squinted. What was two doors down where the Prince had disappeared? Fuck obedience. If he was to be a part of some scheme or prank, he wanted to know what to expect.

He crept closer and heard the Prince speaking. Remus crossed the hallway so he could inch along the wall and see into the room.

It was nearly empty, and he caught the edge of the Prince's right side.

"I know what you are."

"Spit your insults and be done," said an unfamiliar, rough voice that was slightly muffled and not quite right. "There's nothing I haven't heard, and if you're here to torture me, there's nothing I haven't felt, Prince. "

"I'm not here to torture you."

"Lies. I know you hate my kind."

"Perhaps I don't hate you."

Remus slid along a little more and craned his neck. A chain kept the other occupant close to the wall. Why wasn't anyone on guard despite the restraints? For Elira's sake, what a risk to leave him there with no one watching.

"How about if I take off the muzzle, and we'll talk?" asked Sébastien. "Man to man."

"I'm not a fairy."

"We're still males, and that means we can talk like men. I've lost things, and you have too, so I think we'll understand each other."

Receiving no answer, Sébastien moved around to fiddle with the straps doing the muzzle. He tossed the hardened leather and steel contraption to the floor.

Dear Elira, this was going to be messy, and Remus wasn't aiding him. It was his own stupidity.

The werewolf rose on his hind legs to tower over Sébastien who remained still and only moved to look up. Remus's mouth went dry. A nine-footer wasn't easy to face in battle even with magic and good weapons. Most didn't get that big, but those who did could rip off limbs and heads. When the werewolf opened his jaws, wicked, yellowed fangs glinted in the light from the crystal lantern. Scars, a paler pink than their usual skin color, crossed his chest, and his fur had thinned in places.

He was skinnier than normal, but his muscles still bunched as he snapped his jaws at Sébastien who didn't flinch. He said something in a low voice that Remus didn't catch.

The werewolf's hands were cuffed behind his back, and the metal was surely a lot sturdier than Remus's wrist cuffs.

"I can let you go. Once you're outside, it's up to you to escape, but I think you can do it. You could get over the wall and into the woods. This place is built more for luxury, not defense, so I'm sure the wall would present little issue for you."

"I don't want to escape. Not anymore."

"What do you want?"

"Revenge."

"Did you touch my oldest brother or my Mother that day?"

"No."

"I figured." Sébastien's silvery hair shifted as he tilted his head. "What's your name?"

"Vemer."

"Vemer, tell me the real story. The one you originally told even though no one believed it. I want the truth because I don't think it was revenge for those in the north."

The werewolf opened his jaws so wide, Remus flinched and expected the Prince to get a chunk ripped out of his face. Vemer closed it, so perhaps it had been a yawn. Why on Ymir's dirt was the Prince talking to him like an equal and offering to free him?

"You fairies never want the truth when it doesn't fit what you want everyone to believe," Vemer said after a moment.

"Perhaps I do, and I think you've suffered for something that's not your fault."

"You'd free me and leave the child to suffer?"

"I can't guarantee that I could free him too. You're here now, and your handlers are slack to leave you unguarded. Then again, you're probably not as valuable as the pup, and you're secure enough. It's not like anyone would try to steal you, but the pup might be a temptation."

Vemer grunted.

"Tell me the truth. Afterward, you'll be free to do as you wish."

The werewolf lowered his head and hunched down to look the Prince directly in the eye. "We didn't come for revenge. We came to Soleil to head north and ensure no others were still in that area. If so, we intended to take them to South Sea, not fight or kill. The sailors and the Captain on the ship were fine with us. They shared their liquor, stories, and card games. They seemed like decent fairies and said we needed to be careful when we came ashore in Soleil because the King had forbidden our kind. Nobody would be waiting at the docks for us, so we'd likely be all right if we quickly left the city before the city guard could gather. We could stick to the forests and countryside on our way north."

"Okay."

"On our last morning, we had breakfast as normal before the ship docked. They weren't required to feed us that last meal, but they did anyway. When we docked, I started to feel off, but I didn't think much of it. We got off, and I could tell the other two weren't feeling well either." Vemer paused. "The timing was too perfect. They'd tested it on someone besides us and knew how long it would take."

"What?"

"I don't know. Someone on the ship slipped something into our food. I thought maybe I had to puke or I'd caught some sort of illness. My brother snapped first. My mate…" That memory stopped Vemer for a moment. "My own rage came, and I couldn't think of anything except to kill. It was like my mind ceased to be my own, and I needed to move, run, and kill. I needed to kill because the rage demanded it. The smell of the crowd, the noise-" He shook his head. "My brother and mate charged into the crowd, but I think if I'd been faced with only them, I would have tried to kill them."

Remus barely stopped himself from creeping closer to listen. Had he been given whatever had affected those at Calmerra? Some said turf had been used because the user could grow quite angry, but he'd never heard of anyone being affected by it that badly, and certainly not a crowd of people. He was positive some new drug or mixture had been invented.

"A ship was going on its maiden voyage, and the sound of the cannons firing and the screams of the crowd enraged me further. Every single fairy I bit or tore into brought a savage pleasure, but it only increased the anger. I wanted more, and pain ceased to exist. When a fairy burned me, I didn't feel it. A sword across my chest meant nothing. I felt invincible."

"So you were poisoned."

"Yes, but I don't know with what. I only stopped because a flier got a lucky strike on my head with something. I didn't feel the pain, but it was enough to knock me out. Everything stopped, and when I woke up, they'd captured me, and the feeling was gone."

He didn't say it, but the heavy weight of something else lurked behind his words. His brother and mate had been killed in that event. To lose himself and find that he'd lost the two closest to him, and they were viewed as hideous beasts in their final moments…a few minutes had changed everything.

"I know of nothing that causes an effect like that," stated Sébastien.

"Believe what you want."

"Some of my people died in a frenzy that matches what you described, so something is capable of causing that insane rage. My Father was poisoned when he went to negotiate peace with King Giorgio in Calmerra. Everyone who drank the wine to start soon went into an uncontrollable rage, and they killed each other. Friends, spouses, brothers. It didn't matter. My Father was brutally killed by King Giorgio. We don't know who killed him."

And there they were with Calmerra in the past and still keenly felt in the present.

"The Regent blamed Rowland and thought they found something to mix with turf although we never knew what," continued Sébastien. "Whatever was used, it must be new. Rowland blamed us too."

Most drugs were there to give people an escape of some sort. It made them feel good or it erased things they didn't want to feel for a short time. Most were banned, except that didn't apply to higher-ups in most cases. If Remus searched every courtier's room, he'd probably find a few baggies of Dust or blue bits of turf to be smoked in a pipe. Maybe he'd even find a happy tab or ten. There were other drugs too.

Whatever had been used at Calmerra wasn't something to do for fun, and it wasn't a poison intended to simply kill.

"Maybe someone else poisoned you," Vemer said after a moment.

"Or the Rowland King was a piece of shit who didn't care what he did to win in the long run, and it came back to bite him in the ass." Sébastien said something else too low for Remus to hear.

Whatever it was, Vemer rumbled and leaned in to listen. Remus strained to hear as Sébastien spoke, but he couldn't make out anything else. Vemer let out a growl at one point. Once the Prince finished, Vemer thought for a long moment before he held up a gnarled hand. Sébastien didn't hesitate to press his palm to the werewolf's.

Remus didn't know whether to believe the action or if it was some sort of trick for whatever the Prince was doing. He only thought about himself with a mind twisted by anger and hate.

For werewolves, the gesture meant, "I see your pain" and intended sympathy that the other could accept by pressing their palm to the giver. They usually only did it among themselves.

"Too many people were laid down," Vemer said. "Except for the wrong ones."

"And that's why you should be free," Sébastien said as he lowered his hand. "The Regent will never release a werewolf now, and even though you're not in prison, you've simply exchanged your cage for a new one so people can stare at you like a spectacle."

"I don't want to walk out of here. I want revenge for my brother and my mate. I'll have it if you let me loose. I can't kill the ones truly responsible for everything, but I can kill those who'd laugh at a child's pain and rape commoners."

"You'd sacrifice yourself for this? If you go in that room, I don't think you'll be able to leave alive. There are too many. Tough as you are, you have limits."

"Yes. It's all I want. I came in peace and was betrayed. I will not leave in peace, and I won't leave the child behind to suffer. If I die, so be it. He's young and can have a life. I know that if he has a chance, he'll take it."

"But can he get out of the city by himself?"

"He's small and fast without that damn ball and chain. I've had over fifty years, and it was mostly a good run. It's his turn now. I'll break that chain they have on him."

"Very well. I only ask that you don't touch the slaves or servants. They're quite obvious considering how they're dressed. They don't get a say in the entertainment or anything that happens here."

"I wasn't planning on harming them."

Remus shrank against the wall as he watched the Prince unlock the cuffs and the collar. The werewolf came to his full height again and stretched. The Prince must have gotten a skeleton key from somewhere which would undo most physical locks until it disintegrated. They were insanely expensive.

"There aren't any South Sea fairies, so don't worry about biting them," said Sébastien. The flesh of a South Sea fairy would burn a werewolf.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

Vemer paused as he looked down upon the fairy. "Your energy isn't right."

"I'll take your word for it." Sébastien gestured for him to lean down and whispered something before he exited the room. Over his shoulder, the werewolf caught sight of Remus in the hall and narrowed his eyes.

It wasn't like he'd hide the fact that he'd been listening.

"I told you to stay." Sébastien brushed off his hands, so the key must have been on its last use and was nothing more than dust now. "Come along."

"What are you doing?" Remus knew, but he wondered if the Prince would admit it.

"You'll see."

"We're watching?"

"Yes."

Remus followed the Prince without another word. It was foul, despicable, and a massive betrayal of his people and Kingdom. Treason. He could hang for it if anybody knew what he'd done. It wasn't something the Regent could slap his nephew on the wrist for. There wouldn't be any forehead kisses of forgiveness either, and the entire Kingdom would be baying for his blood.

But it was so deserved. The court was full of filth. He'd never condone a fairy who wanted to watch a baby suffer, and it didn't matter what species it was. They also had slaves that they abused.

Sébastien hurried him through some more halls and took a roundabout way to emerge near the foyer of the entertainment room. They slunk down a side hall, past a folding screen in front of a doorway, and into a dark room. Through the other doorway which had no screen, Remus could see the entertainment room. The Prince moved away from him, and something scraped in the dark.

"Stop making noise if you want this to go right."

"Shut up. I know what I'm doing." The chain tightened and forced Remus to walk forward. "Feel the back of the couch in front of you."

Remus's fingers found the top of the embroidered cushions. "Okay."

"Hunch your brute self down. We'll take the passage behind the bookshelf right behind us afterward.

"I don't want to watch." Even if some people deserved death, Remus didn't want to see such a bloodbath.

"You will," whispered Sébastien. In the dark, Remus could just make out his pale hair as he got on his knees to see over the back of the couch, and Remus lowered his bulk while making sure he didn't brush the Prince. "If they kept a Rowland child prisoner, abused him, starved him, and used him as entertainment, don't they deserve to die? It was in Soleil that Elira condemned fairies for abusing children," he finished in a hiss.

"Yes, I know that story."

"Your people like werewolves, but maybe their kids don't count to you."

"They do count. Is this to get revenge on Vemer?"

"He didn't touch my family."

"He was still there, and you hate werewolves. He wants this, but he'll die for it."

"That's his choice."

"Are you willing to let the child go because he had nothing to do with that incident?"

Sébastien was silent as the handler, a small figure in the vast room, presumably told a story. It involved grand gestures and movement. Whatever it was, the baby werewolf had been trained on what to do, and he started chasing his tail in a circle at some point. The courtiers erupted in laughter.

He'd been performing stupid stunts for a while now. How long was this supposed to go on? He had to be exhausted.

"Children should be free," said Sébastien. "They can grow up and sin later. I don't hate that one I freed, and he didn't touch my family. Sometimes, others make terrible decisions that involve you, and afterward, you have to live with the consequences."

Remus side-eyed the Prince even though he couldn't make out his expression. Others caused all of the anger packed into him, and he'd been forced to deal with loss after loss. This wasn't the worst thing he could do, but he still chose to be foul.

He'd waited, giving the courtiers a chance to live. Not all had been eager to watch the shame and torment of a baby. Those who remained faced a game. Whoever the werewolf managed to kill before he was taken out would be punished for their crimes.

Tomorrow, everyone would say it was lucky the Regent had retired to his quarters. Sébastien had waited to ensure he left and went to bed. While they clashed, and the Regent was just as guilty as the rest, he still loved his remaining family member.

It was a pity that Sébastien couldn't use some logic for Remus's situation. He wasn't responsible for killing King Jean or two of his sons, but that hate wasn't going away. Mentioning it would only enrage him.

"What did he mean by your energy?" Remus asked.

"I don't know. He's older and likely a bit off."

The demon had asked if anything seemed off. Remus suddenly wondered if a little South Sea fairy was mixed in the bloodline somewhere. Maybe the werewolf wasn't familiar with it since that type of fairy was mostly extinct now. A few were said to live in South Sea, but that didn't mean one had crossed paths with Vemer. After all, what else could possibly be strange about the Prince's energy? Other fairies couldn't detect energy like a werewolf.

"Let's see if my sense of time is right," muttered Sébastien. "I told him to wait and count. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six…"

A dark shape appeared by the wall in the foyer.

"Five, four, three…"

The werewolf was almost at the entrance.

"Two."

He entered.

"One."

The first scream rang out.

"Perfect," purred Sébastien.

Vemer charged right toward the baby who froze. With a snarl, Vemer bit the chain, and Remus caught laughter. A few must have thought it was a part of the performance.

The chain snapped, freeing the pup from the weight of the metal ball at the end. Vemer ran for one side of the table, and the handler yelled. He tried to grab the baby, but he darted by. The courtiers that Remus could see didn't move since they must have still thought this was part of the performance.

It was a show, so they had to be safe, right? The baby was likely already out on the balcony, and freedom was a few jumps away.

The hall exploded in shrieks and shouts as Vemer lunged across the table and ripped out a man's throat. Blood sprayed on the trays of sweets, and those nearest fled in terror. A man abandoned his slave and tried to climb over the table. Vemer grabbed him by the leg, yanked him down, and leaned over. Remus couldn't see, but he could imagine how bloody it must have been.

A screaming slave jumped over and crawled under the tablecloth where Sébastien had earlier sat. Several courtiers, servants, and a few slaves fled from the room, and others attacked. Fire flew toward Vemer who jumped on a man's back, sank his claws into the flesh of his neck, and tore open his throat.

Sébastien chuckled like he'd never seen something so amusing before. Vemer ignored the fire striking his back and burning away the fur as he tore off the bodice of a woman's dress. Something stringy was pulled from her, and Remus realized it was in her intestines. Vemer flung them to the floor and ignored the slave who had curled into a ball by her owner's body.

Another small wave of panicked courtiers escaped. Vemer, not driven by a drug, but by his bloodlust for revenge against the Kingdom that despised, killed, and tortured his fellows, didn't seem to feel the pain. A man rushed him with a sword, and lightning crackled around the blade. He dropped it when his arm was nearly torn off, and he stopped screaming after his face was bashed into the table twice. Vemer made sure it was crushed before he opened up another man's face with his claws.

He moved to the side where Remus couldn't see. A man's pleas cut off a second later.

A sobbing slave crawled out. Someone's blood had spattered his face. Another darted out and helped him up so they could run. The one Remus recognized from home who was heavily made up and barely dressed followed seconds later.

The man who'd snapped at his slave and smiled at his wife crawled near the hearth and collapsed on the floor. Chunks of his pink hair had been torn out, and his face was barely recognizable.

The guards came running. Too late. A head went flying across the room and nearly hit the first guard. His boots stuttered to a stop, and he swore as the head thumped on the floor and rolled by. The others hesitated, but it was short-lived as they charged in with flaming hands, lightning crackling, and blazing swords.

Remus closed his eyes. It was nearly over. Elira would now grant Vemer rest. He'd die a warrior, not a prisoner to the Goddess's children who had refused to respect the beings she'd adopted as her own back in the beginning when they supposedly came from Asgard.

Shouts and roars came from the room only to die down. Sébastien's fleeting, cool fingers touched Remus's arm.

"Come. There's a secret passage to get upstairs faster. Just follow and try not to bang into the walls like an oaf."

The only sound that remained in the hall was a lady screaming as she crawled toward the corpse of the pink-haired man. She draped herself over it.

"Toni, d-don't leave me. I can't live without you."