3. The Reluctant Alliance

3

THE RELUCTANT ALLIANCE

(RIVEN)

I ’m walking past the foyer on the way up the stairs to my room when my father’s deep voice calls to me. I pause by the stairway and release a deep, exhausted sigh before turning to the foyer and walking toward his voice.

One of the things I find weird is my father’s obsession with the throne. It takes up half the foyer and is a presumptuous chair in the center of the room. It’s made with a kaleidoscope of colored glass, such that when the sun rays filter through the arched windows and hit the throne, they disperse light in different directions, giving the illusion that he’s sitting on a cloud of fire.

My father loves to sit down and judge the affairs of his people —and his home. As his son, I find it weird that he makes me stand before it to speak to him when we can have a private conversation in his chambers. Even my mother must stand before him here to talk to him.

“Riven,” he calls me again as I appear before him. His hair flows down his back as he sits up, narrowing his eyes at me. “I missed you last night. Wanted to introduce you to Allegre.”

“You introduce me to him every year.”

His eyes narrow even further until they’re black slits in his face. “It’s your duty as a prince to?—”

“—to be interested in the issues of the fae. And to strengthen the Great Alliance. I know. You say that to me every day.” I’m exhausted and have cricks in my body from being a statue all night, not to mention the nosy witch who witnessed everything. I need to sleep.

“Maybe I say that to you every day because you don’t listen!” He growls.

“Maybe I don’t listen because you don’t take the alliance seriously, either. You clamor for peace in front of others, but in private, you disrupt it.” I’m in a foul mood, and I’m bursting at the seams with the need to rub it off on someone.

My father’s face contorts in anger, and the atmosphere darkens. My father’s magic is attuned to nature, and his mood affects the weather around him. When he’s angry, the atmosphere darkens. If he gets angry enough, he can cook up a storm.

“Just the other day, you stamped a law that our borders be surrounded by wooden stakes outlined with silver and poisoned with vervain to keep out vampires who may wander in. As if that’s not enough; you wrote into law that any vampire caught on fae land be instantly sentenced to death. Yet you introduce me to Allegre yearly and smile in his face!”

My father rushes to his feet, sending a powerful gust of wind my way. I duck. “These vampires you back will not hesitate to suck you dry of blood if they get their hands on you.”

“Then why must I subject myself to that sham every year?” I growl back at him, my temper rising. “You all hate each other. The Great Alliance is a flamboyant show to deceive the people. I’d rather know we’re enemies than pretend to be friends.”

“Enough!” He strikes his staff to the ground, cracking the earth in two. “Enough, I say.”

“Faelor!” My mom, Isolde, suddenly appears before him, her black hair spilling down her waist. She holds his face in her hands, trying to draw his attention.

“He’s just a boy! You don’t expect him to fully understand the affairs of politics. He’s still learning. I’ve told you to give your son some grace.”

Without waiting for his response, she hurries to me and takes my arm, pulling me out of the room. I understand the politics quite well, and they both know it. It’s a dirty game, and they hate the truth. When we’re up the stairway and out of the court, my mom sighs.

“Riven, I’ve told you to stop prodding your father. You know how he gets with his temper.”

“But I don’t have to deal with it.” I enter my room. My sanctuary. The walls are made of gnarled ilex, with its branches forming ornamental features and barriers across the space. There’s a four-poster wooden bed made of the same ilex wood. The ilex tree in fae land symbolizes protection and strength, which are my powers.

“Where were you?” My mother sits beside me. “Your father complained that you disappeared.”

“I was in the forest.”

I don’t need to tell my mother anymore; she instantly understands, and her face falls. Besides me, who is directly affected, the only other person who feels my pain is my mother.

“Don’t worry,” she says, like she has for years. “We’ll figure it out. There’s bound to be a solution to this. We?—”

“Mother.” I take her hands and fake a smile. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

She brushes a hand through my hair like she always did when I was a little boy. “You’re the strongest man I know, Riven. How you’ve managed to endure this all these years and still be sane, I don’t know.”

As she brushes my hair, I feel a lightness settle upon me and lean into her hand, taking the comfort, she freely gives. My mother is a healer and comforter. That’s her superpower, which is very fitting, seeing as my father’s modus operandi is to destroy. Very fitting.

I remember the witch I met in the forest —the only person other than my family who had witnessed the curse in effect—and how confident she was of her ability to heal me. I’ve never seen anyone that confident in their abilities. Even the most revered witches, magicians, and faes all bow before the curse. But she saw it, stood her ground, and blocked my path, trying to prove she was above it.

Annoying, infuriating, exasperating. But very interesting.

“Mother.” I sit up. “Why do you have so much faith that I will one day be freed of this curse? I’ve lost faith.”

She smiles. “Because of the prophecy.”

“What prophecy?” I frown, wondering why I’ve never heard this one. “Is there a prophecy that the curse will be lifted?”

“Your father advises me not to take it to heart because a madman said it, but it’s my only lifeline, so I’m grasping it tightly.”

“What did he say?” Hope blooms in my chest.

“He said the key to your freedom is in the hands of a powerful witch,” she whispers, and my heartbeat accelerates.

A powerful witch?

“But we’ve called all the powerful witches in our world. Even dabbled into magicians and everything we can think of, but nothing worked. Maybe the witch hasn’t been born,” she laughs to make light of the situation.

Rowena. That’s her name. She’s young, really young, but what if? I know it’s the hole that’s ballooning in me, but I can’t help it. It’s worth a try, isn’t it? She was very adamant about helping, and she sounded like she knew what she was capable of. It’s worth a try. One more disappointment will hurt, but it’s worth a try. It’ll be foolish not to try.

“Rest, Riven.” My mother rises and nods before leaving the room.

Long after she’s left, sleep doesn’t come, although my body is exhausted. Thoughts of Rowena keep me up. I’m not thinking of her beauty; I don’t care about that. I’ve seen far more beautiful women in fae land. Besides, she’s a witch. I want nothing to do with a witch. What I want is her power. And this time, I want to do it alone without my father and mother.

This is a journey I must take on my own.

When it's three hours until midnight, I set out of the palace and into the Forest of Herbs. It’s a big forest, but she’s a witch, and every fae can sense a witch from a mile away. I stand completely still until my radar picks up the faint scent of a witch. I don’t know if she’s the only witch that lives in this forest, but I’m sure whoever I find may be able to lead me to her. Witches are dangerous, but I’m a royal fae, a hundred times more potent than an average one. I’m not afraid of them.

The farther I walk into the forest, the stronger the scent becomes until a clearing appears, and I’m staring at a fancy little hut. Whoever lives here is very extra because they took the time to decorate their abode in a way I’ve never seen any creature do.

As I contemplate the house a few feet away, the scent suddenly overwhelms me, but before I can react, something circles my neck and tugs, almost cutting off my circulation. I yank at the rope on my neck, realizing it’s lined with tiny iron shards — a known fae repellent. It works —for an average fae. It’ll take more than shards to get me down.

When I turn, I see Rowena, her eyes narrow and full of suspicion. Our gaze meets, and she tightens her hand around the other end of the rope.

“What do you want? And how did you find me?”

She’s more beautiful than I remembered, and for a moment, I stare in admiration. It means nothing. I’m just a man, and she’s a beautiful woman—nothing to see there.

“Can we talk?”

She eyes me. “Talk about what?”

“What we discussed earlier.”

She rolls her eyes. “Remind me. It’s been hours.”

I know she remembers, but I swallow a bit of my pride and indulge her. “You said you can help me.”

She blinks at me and then bursts into laughter. “You want my help?”

“Can you not laugh? This isn’t funny.”

“Excuse me, don’t act all high and mighty now.” She stands straighter. “You’re on my turf.”

I look around the forest pointedly. “Uh, this is fae turf. I don’t know why you’re here, but you’re trespassing.”

“It’s. It's not fae turf!” She argues heatedly. “It belongs to both territories.”

“But the trees and everything in it live for the fae. It exists with our essence.”

“And the herbs exist for the witches.”

“But you’re too far out for a witch to survive,” I answer. “We’re almost in the heart of the forest where fae magic is pure. A witch can’t exist here, but here you are.”

She looks away, and I can tell she’s hiding something. “What kind of witch are you?”

“Don’t ask me any questions, especially if you’re here for my help.”

I take one step toward her, and she tugs at the end of the rope, causing the noose to tighten around my neck. “Don’t forget I have this. A spell controls it. Don’t come close.”

I wrap my fingers around the noose, which melts off and drops to the floor. I enjoy seeing the realization dawn in her eyes; then, it gives way to fear and then anger.

“You’re immune to iron?” She shrieks. “What’s your weakness then?”

“I’d be stupid to tell you.”

Now that she doesn’t have any immediate leverage, her suspicions grow. “I have no reason to hurt you,” I tell her. “I just need your help.”

“Why the change of heart?”

I shrug. “I decided to give this a try. If it doesn’t work, I’ll say I tried.”

“Hmm.” She folds her arms. “But now I no longer want to help you.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” she smirks. “I waited for you through the night, but the first thing you did when the curse lifted was to try and incinerate me.”

“That wasn’t the first thing I did,” I counter.

“But you did it!”

“You were being annoying,” I answer. “I told you to leave me alone several times, but you blocked my path and went on about being Rowena Nightshade.”

“Well, it’s not my fault you don’t know the Nightshades,” she answers sassily. “Besides, you told me to leave you alone, and I have. Go away.” She walks towards the house, giving me a wide berth. “Go!”

“Rowena, please.”

She stops a few feet away and meets my gaze again. For a while, neither of us speaks, and then she finally says. “I’ll help you.”

“Thanks.” I look around at the darkening forest. I probably still have about an hour until midnight, so I better leave.

“I’ll be back tomorrow. I have to leave now.”

She nods, immediately understanding my words. “Be on time.”

I bristle at the command in her tone, but I say nothing as I turn away from her and head back toward home.