AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He let the darkness consume him, allowed his body to cross that thick veil, and tried to find that exact place he’d been with Ursiana.
Deathbringers usually moved safely in the hollow, unless in particular circumstances. There were too many traps—not only deatheyes, but other types of prisons. Some of them were obvious physical traps, but some of them could catch someone’s mind. Azir had to be aware and careful not to get caught. Strange. He’d been so sure this had been where he and Ursiana had been caught. Unless… That thought was like driving a knife in his gut. Unless… He’d known it was a possibility, known surviving was unlikely, and still had dared believe that she would somehow escape.
For a moment, he felt dizzy. If the worst had happened, he had to at least find her body. If he didn’t, he would always be consumed with doubt. No, she could still be alive. Hopeful, naive thoughts.
“Azir!”
He perked up. The yell was coming from one of the hallways. That led to a dangerous realm. It could be a trap. It could be so many things, but his thoughts didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was that he was running in that direction—and then falling. Falling, falling, falling. Falling to what could be his end.
No, he wasn’t falling, he was standing at a ledge, outside a party, hating everything. He couldn’t be there, it made no sense. Where else could he be? Here he was.
* * *
This wasthe moment River had been waiting for, his opportunity to find the secrets in the Iron Citadel, and yet, the enormity of that place and the size of his task were more overwhelming than ever, now that he could go just about anywhere in this dreadful castle. So many choices, so little time. Soon the king would again check River’s quarters, or rather, prison, and he’d better be there if he wanted to keep playing this game.
Downstairs, in the several secret levels, there were probably many things he could find, or else he could check the royal vaults, or some of the restricted sections in the art collection. Perhaps instead of trying everything at once, he could opt for the simpler route: the king himself. Following him would allow River to see what he was doing. So much evil magic was loose now, and the king was a clear path and a clear lead on how to find out more about that.
First, River went back to the large room where his prison had been located, setting up an invisible barrier around the door. If anyone breached it, he would know it and return to his place. This was old Ancient magic, an enchantment few were capable of. More of River’s “wasted potential”. At least he was using some of it now, even if it wasn’t in the way his father would have liked.
In the same way he could feel memories of a place, especially if they had high emotions, he could sense its tranquility, mix his essence with that place in such a way that he would notice if it was disturbed. This would allow him to explore the Iron Citadel at leisure.
River had magically tagged the king, but for some reason couldn’t sense him. Had he left the kingdom again? River closed his eyes and focused, then felt a faint trace of him deep underground.
After a moment in the darkness, River found himself behind the king, in a gigantic dark chamber that looked more like a cave, with rough rock walls and ceiling. Strange how the lower parts of the castle weren’t as well finished as the higher floors. This was not any rock, but magnetite, and the scent of iron magic was heavy in the air. River no longer thought it stunk, now that he realized Naia had some of that scent, except that hers was slightly different—and marvelous instead of atrocious. River had better not think about Naia and her scent or he would be unable to do anything useful or keep his glamour.
The king stood by his wife by a rectangular platform made of onyx, its black sides reflecting the faint lights of torches along the walls and on the floor. Something big was about to happen, but maybe not anything secret, as there were some forty guards standing by one wall of the room, in two lines, partly concealed by the darkness of that strange chamber. Why so many guards?
River approached the platform and realized it was hollow. In it, he found his answer. Cassius was there. There was no life in him, but he didn’t look like someone who had been dead for almost a day. He was pale, but looked like someone asleep. River didn’t quite know how to even explain what he was sensing from that body.
Unlike the king, the queen looked fragile and scared, holding her husband’s hand and trembling. River thought that she was crying, but her eyes were dry, even if they were wide as they looked at her son, a strange emotion in them almost like hope, but not quite. Perhaps Cassius was sick. Or maybe this was some kind of mortuary ritual, but it was odd that none of the family was there, and then, the number of guards was extremely bizarre.
Queen Kara turned to her husband. “The fae. Are you sure he’s been secured?”
“He won’t leave his quarters. You don’t have anything to fear from him, my love.” His voice was soft, and River felt almost nauseous that someone so horrible could think he loved anyone. The king then smirked. “I know he disturbs you, but I’ve always had him under control.”
“He makes me nervous.” Her voice was shaky. Afraid of River. At least one person in Ironhold was sensible and showed some sign of intelligence.
The king kissed her cheek. “I’m here. You’ll never have to fear anything, not even death.”
The queen nodded and looked down.
What were they doing? Why was there nobody else in the room? If this was some secret magic ritual, why so many witnesses? There was something that felt unequivocally wrong about this place and whatever ceremony they were about to conduct. And it wasn’t a coincidence that River had been locked up right before it; the queen feared him for some reason, as if she feared he would get in their way or find out what they were about to do. Whatever was about to happen wasn’t for River’s eyes, and it was ironic that their effort to keep him away had allowed him to come here, to unravel their secrets.
River was still invisible and unnoticed. He knew how to walk and move silently, and wasn’t worried that anyone would hear him, but everything about this was uncomfortable. Even the air felt heavy.
The king squeezed the queen’s hand. “Ready?”
She gave him a shy nod. The king then turned around and faced the guards. “Swords out.”
All the guards unsheathed their weapons. River couldn’t imagine what they were about to do. There was nobody else in this chamber. Then, he had heard about rituals with swords, and perhaps this was one of them.
The king then raised one of his arms, and, in a swift motion, closed his fist.
River heard a few grunts and noticed movement from the guards, but it took him a moment to comprehend what was happening. The men had been standing in two lines, and when the king made the sign, the ones standing behind the others stuck their swords on their backs. A few guards were fast enough to notice what was happening and turn to try to defend themselves, but were outnumbered. Two men tried to run, but were prevented from doing so by the guards who had been standing in the back. As much as River could appreciate military prowess, this was nothing but a senseless massacre, a disturbing bloody spectacle.
How could Ironhold hurt their own people? How could anyone be so callous? River felt nauseous again, and he wasn’t sure if it was the gruesome scene or still some effect from the dark magic he had crossed earlier. He focused on his glamor, which wasn’t something he usually had to do, but he wanted to ensure it was holding up. Sometimes he agreed with his father that humans could be atrocious. But then, so could Ancients, which wasn’t something he wanted to dwell on.
Some twenty dead or severely hurt men lay on the blood-covered floor. The king didn’t smile or frown or anything, while the queen kept her eyes on her son, undisturbed by the murders around her. Well, ignoring other people’s suffering was something royals were very good at. For all her apparent fragility, Queen Kara was certainly unfazed by senseless death, violence, and blood.
