Chapter 26

The guard led her down a dark, rocky tunnel toward a metallic door, its border suffused with a golden glow. Ursula gulped. She’d seen a door like that before. When she’d first arrived in New York, Bael’s room had been protected by a similar magical barrier—nearly impenetrable.

As they approached, the guard spoke in Angelic—too softly for Ursula to hear the words. At the last word, the barrier around the door shimmered, then disappeared, enshrouding them in darkness.

The sound of an unsheathing sword pierced the quiet, followed by the guard’s footsteps. “Open the door.”

Ursula cautiously stepped closer, her pulse racing. Whatever monstrous creature lurked behind the door seemed to have the guard on edge. Slowly, she pulled open the door to a dark interior, and the tip of the guard’s sword pressed into her back. She took a step forward into the blackness, and the door clicked shut behind her.

Instantly, a body slammed into her, nearly knocking her to the ground. A pair of powerful arms surrounded her. She struggled against them, but they pinned her arms to her sides—until she heard the deep inhale of breath.

“Ursula.” It was Bael’s voice, and his seductive sandalwood scent enveloped her. He’s alive. He’s here.

His grip loosened but he kept his arms around her, and he leaned down, whispering into her hair. “I’m sorry. I thought you were a guard. I didn’t recognize you right away. You smell different. You smell like death.” Warmth from his body radiated against hers.

“I ended up inside a dragon for a few moments.”

His body tensed, and he released her. “What?”

“I got out.”

He loosed a breath. “Thank the gods you’re okay. They trapped me behind that gods-damned door. If anything had happened to you, Ursula...” He trailed off.

“What?”

“I would have had a lot of dragons to kill.” He flicked a match, lighting a candle on a rough wooden table. Amber light flickered over a surprisingly large room, the floor covered in Persian rugs.

Ursula took a deep breath. This wasn’t what she’d been expecting. “Where are we?”

Bael lit a candle in a silver sconce, and its light danced over the stone walls, some of them hung with paintings. An enormous, low bed stood in one corner of the room. “I think this was one of the dragons’ quarters. They don’t seem to have proper cells. I don’t think they tend to leave their prisoners alive very often.”

In the dim candlelight, Ursula surveyed the paintings on the walls. The one closest looked strangely familiar—a vibrant vase of yellow poppies in a post-impressionist style. She narrowed her eyes. “Is that a Van Gogh?”

Bael cocked his head. “Yes.”

Next to the yellow poppies hung another painting, this one encrusted with gold leaf. Ursula strained her eyes in the dim light. It looked something she’d seen in the Tate Britain on a school trip. “I’ve seen that, too.”

“Klimt. Dragons are obsessed with material wealth and beauty.” He pointed at a far wall. “There’s a Caravaggio over there.”

Ursula plucked a candle from the table, and crossed to the other side of the room, her breath catching in her throat. Even in the light of the guttering candle, the painting was hauntingly beautiful—an androgynous man, draped in sheets and vine leaves, drinking wine. Dionysus, probably.

Ursula frowned at it. “I’m surprised the dragons aren’t affiliated with Emerazel. She seems to have an endless supply of gold bullion.”

“They were once, a long time ago, but Emerazel betrayed them. They’ve been mortal enemies ever since.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.” The air seemed to thin. “Emerazel makes many enemies.”

“So which god do the dragons serve?”

“None. Dragons roamed the earth before the gods fell. Like the fae, they have no divine affiliation.”

Ursula turned away from the painting. Her body ached with fatigue, muscles burning, but despite the opulent furnishings the dragons hadn’t bothered to include any seating. She crossed to the bed, sitting on the edge. “We need a plan to get out of here.”

Bael crossed his arms. “You could create a sigil. We could return to the Plaza.”

Ursula shook her head. “The dragons have Zee and Cera. I can’t leave them behind.

Bael’s arms tightened across his broad chest. “Then we wait until morning.”

“Do you think you can fight the dragons?”

“I’ve killed one before.” Bael cocked an eyebrow. “And I understand you killed one this evening.”

“More than one.”

“Tell me.”

“Well, Zee glamoured us to look like the captives. And one of the guards—” She bit her lip. “Did you know that the dragons can take on human forms? Well, one of the guards led us down in their warren—that’s what they call this place—and Lucius was there.”

Bael stiffened at the mention of the Drake’s name. “Lucius? The Drake is here?”

Ursula nodded. “Yes. He was the red dragon in Avalon.”

Bael growled, the sound sending a ripple of primal fear up Ursula’s spine.

“What’s the matter? Who the hell is he?” asked Ursula. “Do you know who Lucius is?”

Bael’s voice rumbled in her core. “He was Viviane’s lover, once. He helped Oberon forge Excalibur.”

Ursula’s stomach dropped. “So that’s why he could wield it. He seemed pretty certain I was the Darkling, you know.”

Bael’s body completely stiffened, his hands clenching into fists.

“What do you mean ‘he could wield it’?”

“I had to give him the sword. He was going to hurt Zee.”

His expression darkened. “The sword will allow him to channel dragonfire again. With Excalibur in his hand, he could raze the earth to the ground. I don’t believe he thinks you are the Darkling, but I think he could be the Darkling.”

Dread bloomed in her chest. She’d brought Excalibur right to the Darkling.

Bael paced. “No single person will be able to defeat Lucius while he possesses Excalibur. We have only one option. We must go to the fae. They are our only hope. You must call on Emerazel’s fire so we can escape.”

“What about Zee and Cera?”

“Every war has casualties,” he snarled.

Ursula rose. “I can’t leave them behind. They’ve both saved my life more than once. They’ve saved your life too?—”

“When they forced me to drink from your veins.”

“You would have died if they didn’t.”

“Maybe I should have died.” He said it so softly Ursula nearly didn’t hear him. “Do you honestly think I want Cera to die? She’s been practically the only person I’ve spoken to for centuries, but we have very few options now.”

“Back up.” Ursula glared at him. “What do you mean you should have died? Does this have anything to do with your tendency to charge into fights? You were the Sword of Nyxobas once, the leader of his army, yet you throw yourself into danger with no regard for your personal safety.”

Shadows whispered in his eyes. “Sometimes there is no time for calculation. One must act whatever the consequences.”

“That is your explanation for your death wish?” Ursula shook her head. “I don’t believe you. There’s more to it. Nyxobas wouldn’t have put you in charge of his legions if you were simply rash and headstrong. Something happened. In the Shadow Realm, everyone says you are broken. Why?” Her mind raced. She had almost put it together. Having just cut her way out of a dragon’s belly, Ursula was feeling a little rash herself. It was time to ask him for the truth. “What happened to Elissa? Why did you kill your wife?”

Bael turned from her, unable to meet her eyes, and she grabbed his arm.

“Tell me,” she said softly.

He stared at the ground for a long time, and she could practically feel the emotions whirling off him. At last, without meeting her eyes, he spoke, his voice ragged. “It was a long time ago. Not long after I’d become immortal. I had been away, checking on our vineyards.”

The vision of the ruddy, flower-dappled fields burned in Ursula’s mind. “You were coming home—there was a fire.”

Bael’s pale eyes slid to her, and the pain etched on his features nearly broke her heart.

“How?”

“I saw a vision from your memory when you drank from me. It looked like an ancient city.”

His entire body was rigid with tension. “It was Emerazel’s vengeance.”

A cold, dreadful understanding began to bloom in her mind.“What was?”

“I chose Nyxobas over her. When you deny the gods, it doesn’t end well. She burned half the city of Gubla. When I ran home to save my wife, Emerazel was waiting for me. I wasn’t strong enough to fight her. I let her take over my mind, let her draw my sword, with my hand. And I watched myself drive it into Elissa’s heart. She was screaming for mercy. She didn’t understand why I wanted to kill her—the terror in her eyes, the betrayal...” And then, so softly she nearly couldn’t hear him: “She’d been carrying our child.”

The weight of his grief pressed down over the both of them, and Ursula wanted to pull him from this exquisite pain. She wrapped her arms around him, bringing him close. She had the strongest urge to feel his beating heart, so grateful that he’d survived all this time. She pressed her hand over his chest, feeling his heart thud against her palm, then rested her head against his chest. “It wasn’t your fault, Bael. I know people worshipped you as a god, but you are not one. You couldn’t have stopped it. You couldn’t have fought her. This was Emerazel’s doing, not yours. She did it to break you. Don’t let her win.”

Slowly, his powerful arms wrapped around her, and he touched his forehead to hers. “Ursula,” he said in a whisper. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Light blindedher as the door to the chamber was flung open, and she pulled away from Bael.

The silhouette of a guard loomed in the doorway, two more behind him. “The Drake will see you now.”

“No,” Bael snarled.

Ursula held out a hand. She needed Excalibur back. Maybe the Drake was the Darkling, but the sword was meant for her. She’d been able to feel it. “I’ll be fine, Bael.” She looked into his eyes, searching them.

Bael’s fists tightened. “You’re not going without me.”

One of the guards nodded at Bael. “It won’t matter. You’re both unarmed, and the Drake will decide your fates.” He flashed a crooked grin. “And given what you did to his dragons, I can’t wait to see how he kills you. The only question is which of you dies first, and which of you has to watch the other suffer.”