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From one of the watchtowers, a warrior blew a curved horn. The procession halted for a bit at the gates, giving me time to catch my breath through the lump of sweaty leather.
Iron chains clanked; thick rope stretched and groaned as a heavy portcullis broke free of its resting place, allowing the warriors entry.
Eyes studied us, every damn move, as we made our way inside. Murmurs followed like shadows when the folk within the gates recognized the sight of me.
At the wide, arched doorway that would lead into the main hall, we stopped.
Jonas kicked a leg over the furs atop the back of his steed and dropped to the dirt. He leaned into a guard at the door. “Where is King Valen?”
“The tower, My Lord.”
“Fetch him.Now.”
The guard seemed startled at the briskness of the prince’s tone. It didn’t take much to guess, he did not speak in such a way often. No doubt, most of the earth fae folk behaved differently since I’d robbed them of their princess.
Not so long ago, the windows had been draped in festive ribbons and shades. Stacks of sticky breads and sugared sweets had lined the table for their masque. Now, inside the hall, sweets had been replaced with pungent ale, swords, and scrolls of poorly drawn maps of what I guessed was their version of the Ever.
They were drawn wrong. They’d never find Livia by guessing, and they’d never get through the Chasm with their slender ships that looked more like a sea serpent than a vessel.
I couldn’t die here, or she would die.
I knew Larsson could kill, and ruthlessly. I’d seen enough to give him the damn name of Bonekeeper.
Chatter ceased when Jonas pulled on the rope. “We have Bloodsinger!”
A few gasps followed. Blades were pulled off the table. With a great shove, Jonas knocked me down onto my knees. The leather fell from my mouth, and laughter rose against the rafters overhead.
Two boots, scuffed and coated in mud, stepped in front of me.
“Pick him up, Stieg,” someone shouted from behind.
The man knelt. Slowly, I lifted my gaze to meet the warrior.
Stieg still had scars on his jaw that crept out from beneath his braided beard. One scar cut through his eyebrow, given to him while trapped in that room with me as a prisoner all those turns ago.
If anyone would listen, it would be the warrior.
“I didn’t harm her,” I rushed out in a quick breath. “I didn’t harm either of them. You must listen—”
“I warned you,” Stieg said, a touch of sadness in his tone. “I cannot protect you now, Ever King.”
“Listento me,” I gritted out. “Your prince is trapped in the knoll, Stieg.”
The use of his name furrowed his brow. Stieg rose, lifting me back to my feet. He kept his hold on my arm, spun me to face the hall, but flicked a hand at two men beside a narrow doorway.
When the men abandoned the hall, I dared hope.
Two paces away, Jonas still wore a vicious kind of grin, and now stood beside a man who shared his face. A brother. Livia had mentioned there were twin princes.
Black like the thickest ink spilled through the whites of their eyes with their dark magic.
Around the princes were warriors gripping blades until their knuckles whitened. Men, women, all of them studied me as if they hoped their eyes would peel the flesh off my bones. Close to Jonas was the woman who’d been beside Livia the night I took her.
She tapped a dagger against her dainty palm. Runes were inked down her forehead, chin, and throat. She, perhaps, looked the most ferocious of them all.
Doors to the side of me slammed against the walls, knocking two shields from their hooks, and the hall silenced like a wave leaving the shore.
There in the doorway, the earth bender king stood, axes in hand, shoulders lifting and falling in heavy, angry breaths. Eyes that once had pity for a boy at the end of the war now burned in malice I could taste.
