Unease hummed through Maeve and she shifted in her seat. She glanced down the table, recalling those she’d seen in Imperia. If they were the ones to stand against the dark fae and the orcs, they’d surely loose. She’d fought the orcs and seen the hidden magic they used, magic stolen from Carn. The humans would not survive against them, or the fae, not unless they had a greater power on their side. But she also recalled the goblins in the Draconbane Mountains and how they had burned when the fire mages fought. Perhaps the fae would fall like that, although they weren’t mindless creatures, fighting to save a horde of treasure. The fae were intelligent, with quick wit and magic of their own. But she couldn’t imagine what would happen if the celestials returned.
What she’d seen of the Crown of Erinyes, and even the Sword of Justice made her sense their power was potent and dangerous. She was confident that if the celestials fought with the mages, they’d surely win. But what would happen afterward? And where were the celestials?
She’d assumed when the Crown of Erinyes was reformed, they’d return to the world in glory. It was true she’d spent three days on the back of the firebird, unaware of what happened in the land below, but surely if the celestials were there, she’d have seen a sign. And if not her, then surely Jacq and Willow would know, for they seemed more in tune with the world than she would have expected, hidden as they were in the city of mages.
“Willow and I have laid out a strategy,” Jacq went on, his gaze flickering down to his assistant.
Maeve’s eyes narrowed as she watched them. Willow sat up straighter, a proud smile on her beautiful face. She was well aware of her beauty, magic, and strength. Maeve couldn’t help but wonder if she’d tried to bewitch the wizard. The look that passed between them did not speak of mere friendship.
She sighed, unsure whether she was jealous, frustrated, or wanted more recognition. After all, she was the one who had been forced to hunt the seven shards. She understood that the quest had been dangerous and almost impossible to complete without the knowledge of the Scholar. But if the mages had been willing to go down into the fae Underground, or even find the seven shards themselves, would all of this be happening? They would have control, they would have the Crown of Erinyes.
“But first, as we prepare our armies, we need to take the Crown of Erinyes from the dark fae. We have little to go on, other than the fact that the fae had returned home. They walk in the shadows, they slide through portals, and the Dragon Queen of old is on their side. Maeve of Carn has volunteered to lead this group that goes into the kingdom of the fae. This is a quiet quest, quick and stealthy, but those who know about the kingdom who have explored its hidden ways should go with her. I ask for volunteers to leave in the morning to recover the Crown of Erinyes. We will need its magic if we hope to win this war.”
11
Dark Fae
King Mrithun stood in the tower with his eyes closed, arms clasped behind his back. The scent of home was just as it had been, hundreds of years ago, inside the aging castle where he used to dwell. He’d visited it from time to time, each night of the full moon, but it was only a potent reminder of what was, and long ago he’d resigned himself to the dark halls of the fae Underground. But now? Homecoming wasn’t quite what he had expected. Instead of a thrill of pleasure he found that he missed the dark.
The sunlight on his face was warm, penetrating, but even in the cool of winter the light touch of heat that, for once, did not burn and flake his skin, was almost too much. Who knew in the years he’d spent away from the light that he preferred the dark. It was potent and powerful, and he could listen to the madness that swirled around him without the light to distract his thoughts.
The scraping of claws came, and he heard the thump as a beast landed, shaking the ground near the castle with the strength of its power. Moments of silence stretched and then at last came a creak as the door to his tower swung open and closed like a hushed whisper. He opened his eyes, but didn’t turn around, knowing what he’d see and torn between scolding or admonishing her.
“You’re still wearing it,” she remarked as she glided across the room and stood beside him.
He held his neck stiffly, aware the heavy Crown of Erinyes still graced his head. The trouble was, although he should lock it up in a chest and hide the key, he couldn’t bring himself to part from it. After the years of patience and planning he would wear the crown, as a reward, as a bonus to the freedom his court experienced. Which is why he’d given them free rein, to go where they desired and do what they pleased. But after three days of celebration, they were ordered to return home. To the castle deep within the grove where only twisted paths and hidden signs would lead. She was the first to return. His queen. He licked his lips and his claws twitched. His dragon queen.
“The crown fills me with power,” he told her. It wasn’t untrue. The blue light hovered about him, and the radiance inside filled him with a deep sensation that he was invincible. If he leaped from the tower and fell four floors down, he’d land on his feet. If he stood in the midst of dragon fire, the flame would not consume him. And if the last defender, Maeve of Carn, choose to run him through with her blade—the sword of a celestial—he would withstand the pain and heal himself. Curses were broken and magic sang in his veins.
Drakai laughed, a harsh trill as she folded her golden wings on her back. The smaller wings, the ones she had when she stood in mortal form. Despite himself, he turned and bared his fangs at her. “Are you pleased?” He cupped her chin, leaning closer to taste her.
She gasped as his fang bit her lips, but he licked away the blood as he pulled back, running his claws through her dark hair. Her honey-colored eyes gleamed as she pulled him closer, one of her legs coming up to wrap around his waist. “Pleased does not begin to describe it,” she purred. “Let me show you how pleased I am.”
She rocked against him, but he held her fast. “Are we ready?”
Pausing, a frown knit the perfect skin of her brow and her eyes darted away from him. “Business first,” she spat. “Are we not meant to celebrate?”
He shrugged but inwardly glad he had taken the upper hand away from her. Just because they’d won one victory meant nothing, they had to stay sharp to win the war. “We are. We won a battle, but you know that Maeve of Carn slipped from our fingers.”
The retort died on her lips, for it was she who’d failed. She’d been in the midst of a transformation, and while he understood that she had not cared in that moment, about anyone other than herself, she had to know that her actions could change the course of their destiny. “I burned the Bay of Biscane when I left,” she bragged. “I will burn the last defender as well. When she comes, we will be ready. I will personally enjoy raking the flesh off her bones.”
“Such violence from your lips.” He sneered. “Leave her to me. I shall enjoy displaying the power of the crown.”
Drakai frowned. “If you wish it, although fire would be a worthy death for her.”
“Her time will come. The assassins are prepared. Now we wait.”
“See.” Her tongue came out, the tip of it licking his parted lips. “No more business. Come, pleasure me for the first time in your kingdom, as we once planned long ago.”