Chapter 44

GOLL

Three days later, we stood beside Solzkin's Heart, staring across the small circle at the two shadow fae. I kept Una close to me. Perhaps too close. She kept glaring over her shoulder since I hadn't removed my hand from her waist and allowed her to greet Prince Torvyn and his priest properly.

I knew I was being overbearing since the shadow fae hadn't demonstrated any threat, but my will was no longer my own when it came to Una. My need to keep her close and safe defied rational thought. And I didn't quite fucking care what anyone thought about it.

Much to her protest, Hava had remained behind at the encampment with a few Culled and Morgolith, who was nursing a wounded leg from the wight attack. I wanted no distractions with this encounter, and as much as my Una loved her handmaiden, her friend, Hava rarely kept quiet or still.

It had been a somber few days. We'd had many funeral pyres to burn. The wights had killed four of my Kel Klyss. Then there was Meck. When they were preparing his body for his pyre, I'd inspected his back and found exactly what I thought I would.

His demon runes had traced over his shoulder to his back as some often did. One of the marks was the sign of the raven wing, given to him by Gozriel, and the sign of one with the gift of neklia. His brother surely bore it as well. I'd incinerated Ferryn's body after I was done with him, not thinking of anything else but wiping him from this world.

It still galled me I'd never known they were nekliam. It was a rare gift and one that could've helped their king. But it seemed Ferryn had ulterior motives from the moment he and Meck presented themselves to be considered for my Kel Klyss. And Meck was more loyal to his brother than his king. I could understand that. Still, if Meck had confided in me, he might still be alive.

And finally, there was Dalya. We'd found her in the cave where Ferryn had taken Una, strangled. It broke my heart that she'd come to such an end.

Even knowing she'd betrayed me, for what Una had told me of the conversations in that cave, she must've been Ferryn's lover. She'd betrayed her king in not telling me about the plot against me and my mizrah, but she'd betrayed her vows to Vix as my soul-seer. I'd never know what led her astray, but I could imagine.

Like me, she'd been born into a role. Her magickal gift had marked her by the gods for a life as an oracle, a priestess of Vix's Order. That also meant forsaking a life of family and embracing one of isolation, no mate or children to come.

Then Ferryn, appearing to be a strong, honorable warrior devoted to me as she was, appeared in her life. I could guess he had seduced her rather than the other way around. Una had said he was sick with some kind of black magick madness. He could've entranced Dalya against her will. I didn't know when or how it all had happened exactly, and those who had the answers were now all dead. It didn't matter now.

So I let it go as my mate had advised. No good could come from dwelling on my mistakes or the betrayal of those close to me. And I refused to let my heart fill with bitterness when there was so many more reasons to fill it with joy.

As we'd watched Dalya's pyre burn high, I forgave her for any wrongdoing. I did the same for Meck, a devoted brother who'd tried to correct Ferryn. And failed.

Una had sworn there was dark magick inside Ferryn, guiding him to do its bidding. I berated myself for never having seen or sensed it. Never noticed anything at all. Their expedition to the Solgavia Mountains had brought us the gold we needed. But apparently, Ferryn had brought something else back with him.

I leaned down and whispered to Una, "Do you sense anything?"

We'd discussed the fact that Ferryn most likely encountered this infection of darkness when he was on this expedition. I was more than a little paranoid of the shadow fae. I didn't question why the gods had touched Una with the sight to sense this darkness when I hadn't been. The gods did as they chose, and I accepted that.

"No," she answered quietly. "Nothing at all."

I wondered what it was and where Ferryn had encountered the dark essence. But now wasn't the time for that discussion. There was a far more pressing matter.

Prince Torvyn stood the same height as his priest, Vallon. However, his black wings arched higher, and they shimmered in the afternoon sun with a red sheen. His golden hair was braided in tight plaits along the sides, falling to the wild mass of wind-whipped hair that fell past his shoulders. Four smooth horns curved back in a regal swoop over his head.

But it was his eyes that set him apart more than anything. They were a vibrant orange-gold, as if his magick was eternally ignited by Solzkin's fire. He was surely touched by the sun god, an anointed of the royal line of shadow fae.

"And what do I get for aiding you in desecrating our sacred altar of Solzkin by removing the words and giving them to your mizrah?"

He did not ask why. Nor did he protest that we wanted something that by all rights belonged to the shadow fae. They were a grave people. But this was beyond the usual sober or disinterested mannerism. There was resignation and below that, a layer of sadness, reeking from this young prince.

"What is it you want?" I asked, holding his fiery gaze.

At that moment, I wondered at the fact that none of his kind held the gift of zephilim. Vix had not bestowed the ability to use feyfire upon their kind. Their magick came from the bloodline of their ancestral mother, Mizrah, the daughter of N?kt, the gifts of night. And I would give this prince whatever he wanted, within reason, to use his manipulation of shadow to give my Una the last of the god-touched texts.

The prince walked forward to stand alone within our circle, made almost entirely of my Culled. Vallon remained in place at the perimeter.

Torvyn lifted his chin, his deep voice in earnest when he said, "I want to know how you managed to break your father's wards in the dungeons of N?kt Mir so that you could kill him."

My pulse quickened in surprise at his demand. "You want to know how I broke my father's wards?"

Did his father, the one that was rumored to be mad, keep him in some sort of prison with wards? He was obviously free to go where he wanted. This was a strange request, especially for what we would get in exchange.

"Tell me how you broke his magickal chains. He held the power of Vix as the wraith king. Yet you managed to defy that power, the gods' will, and take his throne."

I thought back, trying to remember exactly what it was. Vayla and I had been imprisoned on the same day. I saw her in the cell, beaten and bruised, as my father's bone guards had dragged me in shackles to my own cell near the wight pit.

"There was an oracle—a very special one." Keffa stiffened and straightened at the mention of her. "She had prophesied I would usurp him, so I always knew it would happen. I simply didn't know when."

I shifted closer to Una, glancing down at her. She stared across the shadow fae.

"But days before I broke free, I felt a strengthening in my magick. I didn't know then, but it was because my gods-ordained mizrah was near. In that very same dungeon."

Una looked up over her right shoulder at me, a small smile teasing her lips.

"I wouldn't know for a long time where that strength had come from." I looked back at the prince whose hard expression hadn't wavered at all. "All I knew was that when the guards had tied her to a hook to be fed to my father's wights, I would die before I allowed that to happen. My magick was suddenly more powerful than my father's. I broke free and helped my future mizrah to safety. Later, when Una's life was endangered yet again by my father, I went to his throne room and took off his head. And nothing has felt more right."

Except for killing Ferryn.

Prince Torvyn remained very still, his jaw setting sharply. "So the gods decided. They changed their favor."

"I suppose you're right. The gods changed their mind about his worthiness to be our king. And so I was free and able to take his throne."

His expression shifted to something other than stone. He appeared disheartened as he muttered, "Hopeless."

"Is that all you want?" I asked.

His golden eyes narrowed. "And a boon. From you and your mizrah."

"What and when?"

"You'll know when I tell you. And whenever I ask for it."

I clenched my jaws but nodded in agreement.

That was when the dryad decided to wake again from her slumber. She detached her spidery limbs from Solzkin's Heart, blinked her leafy eyes, her ivy hair floating around her head. She stepped to the side of the stone and pointed to Torvyn. "You think of the right things but at the wrong time."

If Torvyn was surprised by the sudden appearance of the dryad, he made no show of it.

"When will that time be then?" he asked her aggressively.

"Your priest will tell you."

Torvyn rounded on Vallon, whose eyes widened with surprise. "I know nothing, Sire."

"You will," said the dryad. "Now give her the words, Prince. They belong to her."

His gaze shifted to Una. As always, it made me stiffen with unease when a male looked at her with scrutiny. I had already been protective before the nightmare with Ferryn. Now, I wanted to cocoon her in our bedchamber at N?kt Mir and never let her leave. But I knew she had much to do on the quest given to her by the gods.

Tor made no protest of any kind. He stalked toward the stone, his giant wings flaring out behind him.

It was late afternoon, the sun falling behind us, the tall trees nearby casting light shadows on Solzkin's Heart and the circle where we stood. There were no clouds in the sky even though the day was cold and crisp.

And yet, with a soft murmur of inaudible words from Torvyn, the light shifted as if it wanted to get away from the prince. The shadows moved, gathering toward the winged fae holding his palms up and facing the stone as he whispered softly.

The darkness shaded him from any light, a dome of shadow covering him entirely until we couldn't see him at all, only an impenetrable black space where he once stood.

But above him, the engraved words on the wall shivered. The words were embedded deep in the stone, the letters themselves made of shadow. They trembled as a pulse of magick reverberated from the stone. All at once, the letters fell, sliding down the boulder.

The dryad had her hands cupped beneath the lines of runes. When there were no letters left upon Solzkin's Heart, the stone smooth and devoid of any engravings, she stepped back and nodded to where Torvyn stood in the well of shadows.

Suddenly, the darkness surrounding the prince fled from him, the normal shadows fleeing to their normal places beneath the trees. The pressure of fae magick vanished, and a calm breeze rustled the trees.

When the prince turned, his eyes glowed even brighter than before, a piercing gold. He glanced at Vallon, who flared open his wings, before the prince turned to face me again.

"Take the words," he said, voice devoid of any emotion. "They mean nothing to us now anyway. I suggest you take your mizrah and leave our lands quickly."

He did not say it like a warning, but more like sage advice. Then he beat his giant wings, spanning so wide they nearly reached my Culled circling the clearing. With a slight bend of his knees, he lifted off, leaving a rush of wind in his wake.

Vallon nodded toward me. "We wish you well, King Gollaya. And your mizrah." Then he lifted off, leaving only a gust of air that stirred the orange leaves on the ground as the shadow fae flew over the treetops toward the Solgavia Mountains.

Una stepped toward the dryad. On instinct, I followed but kept my distance. The dryad's business wasn't with me, and these handmaidens of the gods—for that was what these odd fae creatures were—were testy when it came to their missions.

I thought back to the sprites at Dragul Falls, remembering how they almost refused to let me go with Una. But then my attention was immediately back on the wispy dryad, her bark-like limbs moving toward Una.

She stretched out her cupped hands, a wide smile on her face, flashing her sharp, serrated teeth.

"See. I have them for you. My goddess will be so proud."

Una peered down in the dryad's cupped palms. The letters had pooled into swirling black smoke, their markings indecipherable as they had melded into one vaporous mass.

"Why did Elska give this task to me?" Una, who'd been quieter since I brought her back from Windolek, asked softly. "Why me ?"

The dryad shrugged her slender wing-like shoulder. "She did not tell me." Blinking her gem-green eyes, she then craned her viny neck down and whispered, "but I can guess."

"Tell me," pleaded Una.

"My goddess was very sad for a long time."

"Why?"

"The light fae killed the dark. The dark fae killed the light. So much hatred. So much sorrow. My goddess's heart was broken." She widened her eyes, the leaves attached to her barky skin shivering with excitement. "I saw her whisper magick words and divide them into threes."

"But why do that? Why hide them?"

"Because my goddess is gone. She had to go to sleep. Her heart was too broken to stay awake and deliver the spell. She gave that job to me and to others you have met. So she hid her spell till the time was right."

For thousands of years.

"Why me?" Una asked yet again. "It could have been anyone."

"Yes," the dryad agreed with a nod of her head and rustle of her leaves. "It could have been anyone. But one night, a brave young girl flew away from her home with only goodness in her heart to cure her people from a foul sickness. Her courage and goodness were repaid with pain and torture and the theft of her god-given gifts. A tragedy. A blasphemy against the gods."

Tears streamed down Una's face as she looked up at the dryad and listened to her own story very quietly.

"And so," continued the dryad, "the female born into the light was remade in the darkness. The dark fae lady." The dryad smiled, tendrils of her ivy hair reaching out to caress Una's cheek softly. "You are deserving of her healing gift. And far more than that."

Una whimpered, her knees buckling. I rushed forward and caught her by the shoulders from behind.

"Are you all right?"

She glanced up at me and stood straight again. "Very." Her eyes shimmered with glassy tears. "I was right. I will have the healing gift again. Greater than before."

"So much greater," agreed the dryad, holding out her cupped palms. "Now you must drink. And take the gifts the Goddess of the Wood has prepared for you."

I noted she said the word "gifts" in the plural sense, but I didn't question. There was a rightness to this moment I couldn't explain.

Una patted my hand on her left shoulder then stepped out of my embrace. Locking my limbs to hold me in place, I refrained from going to her, always wanting to protect her. The last two times she'd ingested the god-touched texts, she'd experienced pain with the swallowing of power. She'd fallen into an otherworldly sleep after she'd drank Grindolvek's blood. One that had lasted almost two days.

But this was what the goddess Elska wanted. It was what Una wanted, what she was destined for. So I kept myself still as she dipped her head and cupped her hands beneath the dryad's, lifting them toward her mouth.

Rather than drink, she opened her mouth and inhaled deeply. The black swirling smoke twisted into a funnel, pouring into her mouth and down her throat. She gulped it all down, making a small grunt of distress before she crumpled to the ground.

She fell too fast for me to catch her. I lunged for her but a blast of wind knocked me back, lifting me off my feet and dropping me farther away. Keffa and Soryn and the rest of my Culled were on the ground as well. The dryad had not moved, now smiling down at Una's crumpled form.

I was on my feet again, sprinting across the clearing, but Una's body was lifted off the ground by invisible hands. I froze. Her legs, arms, and white cloak hung limp toward the earth while her hair floated wide, a beam of green light shining from inside her. It blazed through her dark blue trousers, tunic, and her skin.

"Gods above and below," murmured Keffa close behind me.

Beams of green light shot from the tips of her fingers and the strands of her hair, piercing the darkening clearing where we stood. I shivered as a thin shaft of light traced across my chest, leaving a palpable sensation of deep comfort and serenity in its wake.

"Do you feel that?" asked Soryn.

I snapped my head to the side to find my second in command grinning like a babe, his hands pressed to his chest where several rays of green light crisscrossed there.

"Feels like heaven," he said dumbly, his eyes almost drunk with the sensation.

I glanced around to see all of my Culled wide-eyed in wonder.

"She is ascending," said the dryad.

My attention shot to Una, my heart stopping when I thought for a moment the dryad told me she would continue to fly upward, right into the clouds with the gods of the heavens. Vix knew she deserved it. But she belonged here with me. She was mine.

Then her wrists lifted, a rope of golden light encircling them. Una gasped out in pain.

"Una!"

I stormed forward again, preparing to use a whip of feyfire to drag her back down, but then her body began floating back toward the earth, the Goddess Elska's light beginning to dim.

When she was within reach, I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back down to me. That powerful force drenched me in tranquil ecstasy. Not the kind I experienced when our bodies joined but the kind that could soothe the soul of any ill at all—a disease of the body or a sickness of the heart.

"Una," I whispered down to her, hoping she had not fallen unconscious like before.

Her eyes fluttered open, glittering a vibrant purple with the new magick inside her. She smiled. "You can put me down."

I set her on her feet. She lifted the sleeves of her blouse where her wrists were now completely encircled with runes. There was a finger-width cuff of gold—the size we wore on the base of our horns—wrapping her wrists above her bracelet of ancient markings.

"What is this?" she asked, voice quivering as she marveled at them.

I took the backs of her hands gently in mine and studied the rune sign first. The last ones to complete the circle made my pulse trip faster.

"The runes mean mother of all fae kind . But this sign that means mother with the slight tail at the tip can also mean something else."

Her brow pursed. "What?"

Staring down, I brushed the pads of my fingers over the gold cuffs encircling her wrists.

"What is it, Goll?" she persisted.

I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "It means something I've known for some time."

I took one of her hands in mine and turned toward my Culled, all of them staring with wide, wondering eyes.

"Kel Klyss," I bellowed across the clearing. Then I raised her arm, her cloak falling behind her, her sleeve sliding up to reveal her slender arm and the gold cuff the gods had placed there. "I present to you Tiarrialuna Hartstone Verbane! My mizrah, my wife"—I turned to her, my heart in my throat as I declared before all—"and my queen ."

Her breath hitched, but she kept her chin up and her face forward.

"The gods have declared it so, and I affirm it. I welcome it. Queen of Northgall!"

She squeezed my hand, a single tear sliding down her milk-pale cheek, but she kept her eyes forward.

Soryn was the first to break from the shock of the first wife and queen to ever be claimed by a wraith king. He thumped his fist to his chest and fell to one knee. "Queen Una!"

Keffa, Pullo, Morgolith, and the others fell instantly to one knee, loudly thumping their chests. All horns bowed. "Queen Una!"

They didn't say it once but began to chant her new name, her rightful role as my partner in this world and hopefully the afterworld when this life was done. For I could not bear to ever part from her.

When their chant grew louder, smiles on their faces and joy in their voices as they lifted them in praise, she finally turned her head to me.

Her face shone bright, glistening with tears. She was too overwhelmed to say a word, it seemed. She did not need to.

As the Culled continued to chant her name, I pulled her into my arms and pressed my lips to her ear. "My beautiful queen."

I held her close as the Culled echoed her new name to the sky, the sun dipping slowly and kissing the horizon with gold.