A Crown of Cursed Hearts (Kingdom of Blighted Thorns #3)

9. Tempest

9

TEMPEST

I n my dreams, I flitted to the king’s sitting area. I stood near the closed door with sweat prickling across the nape of my neck, making the tiny hairs stand rigid. Fear slithered down my spine. My heart was a newling chall caught in a steel trap, mewing from pain while the predator who’d laid in wait approached with a blade lifted. My nerves screamed, tensing my muscles for flight.

As I scanned the empty room, I swallowed back the oppressive feel of impending doom and shoved aside the dread coiling through my veins.

Blood roared in my ears, a thready flutter of panic I refused to give in to.

“You’re not at Bledmire,” I whispered, the words echoing back at me.

“Aren’t you?”

I spun to the left where the sound had come from, my stomach dropping in an endless free fall inside an abyss. Ivenrail’s empty throne sat on the podium, and the doors behind it remained closed.

There was no one here.

Or was there?

I flitted to the right side of the room where I snatched a blade from the wall and brandished it.

No one sat on the furniture, watching me with a slick smile, and no one crouched between here and the doors. Only the faint rippling crackle of flames on the grate and the feverish thud of my heart cut through the silence.

I knew better than to ask who’d just spoken.

Perhaps I still lay in my bed—and perhaps I didn’t. My bare legs, feet and arms, and the wisp of my thin nightie clinging to my goose-peppered frame suggested I was no longer at Weldsbane Manor.

Who had brought me here and why?

Subtle movement in a painting across the room caught my eye. The king had trapped someone new.

Sucking in a breath that felt like knives stabbing down my throat, I hurried toward him. As I passed the Wraithweave board, my eyes were snagged by a new piece standing near the high lady, one unlike any I’d seen before.

Footsteps echoed in the hall, making me jump, and I left the board and rushed over to stand beneath the large frame.

A centaur looked back at me, his human torso merging seamlessly into the powerful body of a bay stallion. He stood on a vast plain with clusters of leafless, stubby trees behind him. His broad shoulders glistened in the scorching sunlight, each muscle clearly defined and exuding strength. His chiseled jaw gave him an air of ancient nobility, and his deep brown eyes pierced mine when they met. Thick waves of black hair fell past his shoulders, catching the light in wild tangles that matched his untamed appearance.

Despite his gaze remaining locked on mine, he spun and danced, contorting his stallion frame while spiraling his arms in the air. I watched in horror, knowing he’d remain trapped here forever unless I could free him.

He came to a stop, his brow and chest gleaming with sweat. “Leave before it’s too late, child,” he said softly, peering toward the door to Ivenrail’s room. “You’re a fool to enter this room.”

“You called me here.”

“I did not.”

“Someone did, then.”

“The fates play games with us all.” He started swirling around again.

“I can free you,” I said.

Coming to a stop, his bushy dark eyebrows rose. “You? I see a fae dragon rider, perhaps a trainer, slumbering in her pretty bed while her mind travels. I doubt you know how you got here, let alone how to cast such a spell.”

“I traveled. Do you think that’s easy?”

He huffed.

“There’s more to me than what you see.” I lifted my chin. “I can free you.”

“Very well.” He dipped his head forward. “I welcome you to try.”

I pinched my eyes closed and gathered power from the deep darkness within my well, sensing that someone the king had pinned in his sitting area was not your average marscapole. Once I’d compressed the churning, magical mass into something I could easily handle, I opened my eyes and blasted the spell across him.

He shuddered—and slipped from the portrait to tower majestically beside me, so tall he had to crook his head to the side to keep from hitting the ceiling.

It still stunned me that I could do this.

He stretched out his front hooves and lowered his head in a deep bow. “I, Gaineos, thank you.”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” I said equally quietly. He was right that I needed to leave, but so did he. The king would be furious when he saw what I’d done.

“If you ever must pass through the dreamless realm, call me, and I will guide you.” A blink and he’d flitted from the sitting room.

The door to Ivenrail’s bedroom creaked, slowly easing open.

I shot back to Weldsbane and my bed, finding myself lying on top of the blankets. My hands trembled, and my legs felt weak and unsteady. A shiver ran through me, not from the cold but the sheer, raw realization that I had traveled in my sleep.

I’d nearly been caught.

Relief tangled together with leftover dread in my belly, making it churn.

Vexxion stirred on the bed, and he mumbled something in a voice too low for me to hear.

I climbed beneath the blankets and snuggled against him, sucking in his warmth while pretending he was still with me .

It took me a long time to fall back asleep.

Waking early the next morning, I sat and stared at him, hoping that when his eyes opened, he’d truly see me. When he remained motionless, his breathing even, I swiped away my tears and lay back down, wrapping my arms around him.

“Vexxion,” I whispered. He smelled the same, a mix of fresh air, sunshine, and hope. But he remained stiff in my arms.

His eyes snapped open, and he stared toward the ceiling, not looking my way.

I drew in power and sent it into him. Over and over until I couldn’t reach any more without leaning over the side and stretching my arm to the point it might rip from the socket.

“Come back to me.” I pressed my forehead into his arm. “I love you. I need you. I can do this alone. I will do it alone. But the thought of never feeling your touch, of never laughing with you again makes me want to join you wherever you wander.”

If I could find my way to the ether, I would do it this instant.

But this wasn’t about me or us. My mission was much bigger than that. I was not only weak, but I was also greedy. I’d had a taste of his love, and I wanted more.

“Rise, Vexxion,” I said mechanically, watching as he did as I asked. He stood beside the bed, staring across me as if I wasn’t there, though I sensed he awaited my next order.

Swallowing back my dismay, I slipped from the bed and walked around it to stand in front of him. I stroked his face and leaned against his arm. Then I yanked up more power, tugging from deep inside my well, again drawing out the strange magic I’d only tapped a few times.

I sent it to him with the spell .

He shuddered, but when I gasped and cupped his cheeks, turning his head to stare into his eyes, he remained lost to me.

Drask fluttered his wings while clutching his perch. He glanced my way before returning to stare out the window. I left Vexxion and went to him, running my fingertip along his spine. I leaned close, placing my head beside his, trying to see what he did, taking in the broad back lawn and the shifting forest beyond.

“Any ideas for how to fix this?” I asked.

He pecked my face.

“I thought not. How about outside? Do you see anything good out there? Because there’s almost nothing worth clinging to inside this building. Well, other than you, my gorgeous friend.”

He preened and ruffled his feathers before taking flight, soaring across the bedroom to land on the bed rail.

I grabbed things from the closet and handed them to Vexxion. “Go do what you need to in the bathing area,” I told him, cringing as I said it. “After, wash and put on clean clothing.”

He returned a short time later with damp hair and a slack face, dressed in fresh leathers.

“Remain here,” I said, my voice one big messy stutter.

Do not cry.

I crossed the room and paused in the opening to the bathing area. Though I knew what to expect, my heart still cratered.

Steaming water didn’t brim in the tub. Clothing had not been laid out for me to wear. Only the lingering scent of roses hung in the air, clogging my sinuses with bitter dismay.

I lifted my chin and stiffened my resolve. My power would replenish, and I’d keep sending it at Vexxion.

One of these times, he’d awaken.

Bathed and dressed in a set of leathers I’d brought with me, I left our room with Drask on my shoulder and Vexxion padding behind me. As usual, we both bristled with weapons. I’d strapped blades to his thighs, securing others in sheaths to his arms and strapped more around his waist. He was going to return to me soon, and he’d want to be armed.

There had to be more flying dregs in need of killing.

I found everyone else inside the kitchen.

Reyla sashayed her hips at the stove, humming while she cooked breakfast. She glanced my way and sent me a smile much too sunny for my current mood. “There’s tea in the pot. Grab a cup. I’ve almost finished cooking our meal.”

“Thanks.” I opened the back door and Drask flew outside. He’d hunt and come back before we were ready to leave. I turned and started toward the island to sit. Vexxion stood in the open doorway and seeing him staring at nothing slashed through me all over again. I couldn’t breathe. All I could do was stare at him and keep flinging power his way.

“Hey, Tempest.” Bro rose from his seat at the counter and barreled into me, distracting me when I needed it most. He gave me a big hug that reminded me so much of when we were young that tears pinched in the backs of my eyes.

I cried for what had happened to him. For what was still happening to Vexxion. And for myself. It was so hard to remain strong when I felt like I faced this alone.

Airia watched us, shadows crossing her face, before she gave me a sympathetic smile. “Morning.” Her gaze traveled to Vexxion. “Any progress with him?”

“Not yet.” When Brodine released me, I stepped backward. I walked over to the cupboard beside the stove and grabbed a mug, filling it with steaming tea from the kettle. Turning, I leaned against the counter, lifting the brew to take a sip.

“Thanks for making breakfast, Reyla,” I said.

She snorted. “Better me than you if we want to survive.”

Vexxion remained in the open doorway.

“You can sit, Vexxion.” Pain tightened my voice. My throat kept spasming, and I knew it would every moment of the day and night until I brought him back.

He moved over to tug out a chair and settle in it, placing his arms on the counter. His gaze remained fixed on the far wall.

I poured him some tea and placed it in front of him. Without guidance, he lifted the mug and took a sip before carefully placing the mug back onto the counter.

“Well,” Reyla said in a bright tone. Her gaze shifted from Vexxion to me before she returned it to the food she was dishing up onto a platter. She carried it over and placed it in the middle of the eating area. “Grab plates. Serve yourselves. We need to eat and decide how we’re going to handle today. ”

“We’re flying south,” I said, though I knew what she meant. How were we going to avoid another confrontation with Kerune and flying dregs? And what would we do when Ivenrail appeared to attack us himself? I was surprised he hadn’t already, though I suspected Vexxion had poured a considerable amount of magic into his wards. How long would they hold up to a solid barrage?

We ate quickly and took care of the dishes.

“As you said, there’s plenty of food here,” Reyla said. “Each time I took some from the cupboard for our meal, it was replenished. We’ll pack enough for a few days.”

“Magic,” Airia said. “I’ve heard of spells like that. They’re common in the castle. They grow vegetables, and some like to hunt, but the majority of the ingredients for our meals were magically created.”

I’d never thought about where the food came from. After I shoveled dragon poop onto the never-ending pile, someone spread it on the fields. Perhaps most of what was grown there was fed to those living in the valley. Or us Nullens.

Except I wasn’t a Nullen, not any longer. A part of my identity had been ripped away, and I floundered, trying to figure out what I could use to replace it. Me, I supposed. My will and my determination remained. Being fae instead of Nullen didn’t take that away.

Pouring more tea and taking it to the island, I sat.

“I was thinking about what you told me last night,” Bro said. “About the flying dregs. Kerune killing the Lieges. The mess Ivenrail’s going to make of the world. We need to tell someone.”

“The fortress commanders need to know,” Reyla said, worrying her fingernail with her teeth. “But there’s no time to fly all that way to tell them.”

“Any idea how we can let them know?” As they shot out suggestions, a thought occurred to me, and I held up my finger. “I could flit to our fortress and tell the new commander.”

Reyla pushed back her empty tea mug. “That’s a great idea.”

“Is that safe?” Brodine asked, scowling.

I grunted. “No more than remaining here.”

“What about telling our king?” Brodine said. “Could you flit there?”

“He’s Ivenrail’s ally. If I flitted there, he’d grab me and hold me until Ivenrail arrived. Bad idea.”

“True.” Bro’s brow knitted with thought.

Airia said nothing, just watched us. She’d grown up far from the border and while she’d seen a few dregs, it was only from a distance. They hadn’t threatened her, not until yesterday.

“How long would it take you to flit there and come back?” Brodine asked. “And who’s going to protect you while you do it?”

“I’ll protect myself.” I sought Vexxion’s gaze, but he continued to stare forward. He’d eaten without prompting, but those drained took care of their basic needs.

“It’ll be quicker than trying to find a way to send word,” Reyla said. “I like this idea.”

The others nodded.

“I’ll go armed, of course,” I said.

“And what if the commander doesn’t believe you?” Airia asked .

“I’ll convince them,” I said grimly. “If I have to, I’ll use magic to do it.”

She nodded. “You know a lot more spells than us, so if you say you can convince them, I believe you.”

I appreciated her support.

“It’s a solid plan. We’ll wait for you here.” Reyla looked Vexxion’s way. “I’ll watch out for him.”

“Thank you.” The thought of leaving him even for a short time gutted me, but what else could I do? I’d use less power flitting alone. “Drask will stay here.” I’d speak to the commander and leave it to them to figure out how the border patrols should handle this. They’d need more archers. More training in how to blow darts through a tube, something that could be done at a distance like those shooting arrows. That was a relatively new battle tactic when I lived at the fortress.

They should coat the arrow tips with poison.

“When will you leave?” Reyla asked, slipping into the command position already. If I was going to build an army, I couldn’t choose anyone better than her to lead it.

Brodine, too, though he was more a trainer and strategist than a leader. That’s why he’d been such a formidable Wraithweave player. He knew the ins and outs of each game piece, plus he was good at using their power to win in a way that used to irritate whoever he played with. They might hate him for winning all the time, but they’d admired his skill with the game.

I stood. “I’ll leave now if that works well for all of you.”

Airia nodded, pensive. Brodine grunted, his flinty gaze traveling from my mating mark to its match on Vexxion’s wrist lying on the countertop.

Reyla got up and rounded the island to give me a hug. “I won’t leave his side,” she whispered by my ear.

I pinched my eyes shut but only for a moment. Whatever I faced needed to be stared down with my eyes wide open. “I’ll come back as soon as possible.”

I quickly drew in power, pictured the waiting area outside the commander’s office, and flitted.