A Kingdom of Lies (Realm of Fey #2)

CHAPTER 4

A storm brewed across Wychwood’s horizon, mirroring the one buried within me. From the moment our small party left Farrador’s walls the sky was a deep grey and the visibility of our journey was close to non-existent. It was my doing, magic making my dark mood dance across the landscape. My power seeped out of my body and encouraged the gale to scream around us as we moved through Cedarfall’s autumn-entrapped landscape.

I was thankful for Althea who rode upon a mount beside me, and Gyah who sat perched before us, steering our company through the sheet of snow. Their presence was calming, making it slightly easier to make sense of the meeting that was going to unfold when we arrived at our destination.

Focus was proving difficult when all I could think of was Erix and how he’d left me last night. Although I was glad because leaving Farrador this morning would’ve been difficult if I saw him. Especially after the news that had been brought to me this morning.

Althea had been the one to tell me that Erix had, in fact, retired as my personal guard. Just as he threatened last night. I had never seen someone so close to letting steam explode from their ears. Althea was seething at his resignation, and the lack of answers as to why he had done so.

“Whatever happened between you two I am sure it will blow over. In the meantime, let him fucking sulk,” she’d told me as I attempted to move my aching, exhausted body and dress myself. “I have asked that he is kept guarded in case he changes his mind and comes after you.”

I found some peace that he was back in Farrador, even though his abandonment pained me deep in my core.

I clung to her words throughout the long morning of travel to Welhaven. There was a patient part of me that could understand that Erix was going through something he didn’t wish to fully divulge. But the other part of me, the louder part, wished to have the luxury of simply walking away from him. And I was far from having that luxury because I’d grown attached; my walls had come down in the weeks we’d shared together and his closeness was both required and necessary to survive throughout the day and night.

“We are here,” Gyah announced, drawing me from my thoughts of Erix.

I wouldn’t have noticed that we’d arrived at our destination as tall oak and yew trees had grown so close together it was impossible to know where one began and the other ended, like a giant wall. But as our party slowed, and then fully stopped, I finally saw Welhaven; hints of aged stone peeking through blankets of wisteria and creeping vines.

Welhaven was a place of quiet. Even the air stilled around the ruins of what had looked to be a cathedral, an old forgotten place of worship and power. Time had devoured the light stone ruins, allowing vines and foliage to grow amongst them, as though nature had claimed the place as its own after years of being forgotten.

We traversed the consuming foliage, under an archway of budding violet-coloured flowers. They shifted in the light breeze, dancing as though celebrating our visit. That was when I sensed something lurking beneath the silence of this place. An ancient power. Archaic and wise.

Like called to like as the power inside of me seemed to wake, lifting its head as though searching for a missing part of itself.

I wasn’t a religious person; I never had been. Stories of the Creator, as the humans had named him, filled homes through teachings passed down from parents to children. Tales of how He crafted the world with His bare hands, plucking His own strands of imbued hair to create humans, designed in His image, yet powerless compared to the fey.

But then there was the God named Altar, whom the fey believed to have created them, giving life to the four Courts and gifting them with the magic that now pulsed through my blood.

I hadn’t spared much thought as to whose belief was more justified, because I hardly cared. But now, standing among the ruins of Welhaven, I could not ignore the aura of pure power that radiated within this place; it was as true as my own.

“We are alone,” Gyah said as she joined Althea and the small circle of guards who surrounded me. “The scouts have returned and confirmed that there is no sign of Doran, nor a track to suggest he has been here yet.”

I could not discern the wary nature of the fey guard as her golden eyes continued to survey the overwhelming forest.

“I thought he accepted the invitation?” I said, feeling a lump of worry budding in my throat, one that I could not swallow away.

“He did.” Althea scanned the ruins, stopping to admire the circular glass window which still hung unbroken above the remnants of a dais ahead of us. It spread vibrant colours of blue, red and green across the overgrown ground. It was near impossible to see if the floor was once made from the same stone as the ruin’s walls since grass and other thick foliage now created a soft bed beneath our feet. “I have no doubt he will soon show himself when he is ready. You have to be ready, Robin. For anything.”

I didn’t need to ponder the statement to provide a sharp, curt reply. “I know.”

“Take solace that this is a safe place. Doran would not disrespect Altar and defile his sacred land with aggression. However, if you leave the boundaries, you are free to an attack in his eyes,” Althea warned, echoing the same words she had shared before we left Farrador. “If you require it, we can stay with you.”

“We informed Doran it would just be me and him during this meeting. Doran needs to trust me, and for that you need to let me do this alone,” I said. “If I need you, you’ll know.”

It pained me to say it. I wanted nothing more than to have Althea and Gyah by my side as I petitioned for my father’s release with nothing to offer in return. But this was my fight. One I would win alone, no matter the means.

Althea nodded, offering me a weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Let me be the first to admire your bravery. But the moment I sense something is wrong, we will come and break up your meeting. That is final.”

“I have no doubt,” I replied.

The anxiety storming within me was like a siren call to my magic. It took most of my concentration to keep it smoothed, controlled.

“We will be listening,” Gyah confirmed through a light snarl. “I do not trust Doran and nor should you. No matter where he finds himself standing. It is clear he sees himself as more than his title for he has already broken Altar’s balance once before.”

When he ordered his gryvern pets to kill my mother.

“I will be fine.” I hardly believed myself as I said those words. Would I be? I had nothing to bargain with. Nothing to offer Doran in trade for my father. But I had to try.

“Good luck.” Althea rested a strong hand upon my shoulder and squeezed.

“And what if he doesn’t show?” I asked as Gyah began to guide the princess away. They both paused, shared a strange look and then glanced at me.

“He will come,” Althea confirmed, stoic. “Doran is many things, but reckless is far from one of them.”

With that, they left me alone, bathed in this silent and powerful place. I hugged my arms to my chest as our small party walked out through a curtain of hanging vines held up by broken pillars on either side. All I could do was wait and hope that Doran would come before my worry consumed me entirely.

There were pews buried beneath green foliage to my left. Whatever this place had been used for before likely involved a crowd. I recognised the shapes of more stone and wooden benches on either side of the room, mirror images of each other, and a relatively clear pathway down the ruin’s middle.

I decided to sit and wait, unsure if my legs would have given out with the heavy weight of anxiety that had rested upon my shoulders.

Time was an unclear concept here. I focused on the branches of pink blossom that protruded through a half-crumbled wall before me, unsure how much more of this deathly quiet I could stand before I gave up and walked away.

Welhaven warned me of the change before I noticed it myself. A prickling sensation spread up my spine so fast it had me gasping out as I instinctively looked towards the dais. I watched as the air above the podium split as though sliced with a knife. It parted in two spindles of light, and from it stepped a man with heavy feet and laboured breaths.

King Doran Oakstorm had arrived.

I stood abruptly, hand resting on the dagger sheathed at my waist, magic rising to the surface just in case. But Doran didn’t pose a threat as he stood with limp arms at the sides of his bulging, swollen belly. He was simply a man, one full of greed. Even his hands looked bloated, his fingers a deep scarlet as the rings adorning them constricted the blood flow.

“I am pleased to have received your invitation,” Doran rasped, voice echoing across the ruins. “Robin Icethorn. I was beginning to think that you would never reach out personally. The Cedarfalls have inserted themselves in your business for far too long.”

I had to stop myself from thanking him, as though relief that he had actually turned up flooded through me.

“Did only half of my invitation arrive?” I replied, keeping my voice as calm as possible. “Because, from what I remember writing, it was for both you and my father. Yet you have come alone.”

“I thought it best to let kings discuss matters without distractions.”

The man made me sick to my stomach. He spoke with clarity, although he was utterly dishevelled. As he got closer, carefully plodding down the steps from the dais to greet me on an equal level, I could see the dark stains across his dirtied tunic. How his golden-thread jacket was frayed at the edges with seams that were unrepairable. Even his face shone with grease, prevalent around the plump chin and cheeks that looked hard to the touch.

“So, I am here. What is it you have to say to me.”

“I want you to return my father,” I demanded before Doran stopped walking. “Not in pieces.”

“Well, of course you do,” Doran replied slowly. The way his voice scratched up his throat made me want to demand he coughed; it irked me, itching at my skin. “Alas, it would seem that want is something shared between us. Because I also want my Tarron returned to me. My son . Do you see how we do not get everything we wish for in this world?”

“My father wasn’t involved in Tarron’s death. This has nothing to do with him.”

“Except your father is a Hunter, is he not?” Doran asked, tilting his head to the side. “And it was Hunters who took my dearest wife from me. So, you see, I do have a quarrel with him.”

Doran continued walking towards me, but I refused to step back. I didn’t want him to see that his presence caused me discomfort. I simply kept repeating Althea’s confirmation of my safety. Doran’s touch might not cause me pain, but I still didn’t want it. “I understand the grief you–”

“Ah, now I see it. You wish to relate to my pain so we can work through it together. Manipulate me just as you did my son.”

“Excuse me?” His words stung as though he’d slapped me across my cheek. “I did no such thing.”

“Tarron Oakstorm was a strong man. Smart and focused. My prized boy. Until you came along and ruined it for him. Although I understand it was not your hand that took his life, your presence certainly caused it. You poisoned his mind with ideas of a future that Tarron would never have dreamed to discuss with me. He knew what was required, and you distracted him from it.”

I spluttered a laugh, feeling heat rise up into my cheeks. “You cannot seriously look at me and point the blame. Your son died because he tried to kill me. How is one life more important than another?”

“Because Tarron was mine .”

Silence grew taut between us. Not even the winds dared make a sound. Doran’s face turned scarlet, his eyes bulging as spit dribbled down his chin. For a moment, through his cracks, I saw a man gripped with desperation and madness. It soon faded as he recollected himself, rubbing the back of his hand across his lips to clear them of spittle.

“Just as my mother, Julianna, was mine?” I asked, voice cold as the magic that lurked within my skin. “That didn’t stop you from killing her though, did it? You have spent days demanding Erix’s return for whatever sick actions you believe will bring you peace. However, I haven’t once petitioned for you to be brought to me. I’m beginning to think that’s what I now want… The same revenge you sought with Erix? I wish to have with you.”

“You are a pathetic excuse for a king,” Doran hissed, the whites of his eyes bloodshot. “I will not be threatened by someone whose balls are no more impressive than hairless plums.”

“And yet I’m an Icethorn. And the last one, thanks to you.” I hardly cared for the spittle that’d shot towards me as Doran spoke, not as I focused on keeping the wave of rage within me.

“Meaningless blood,” Doran shouted. “A waste of power and potential.”

I waved him off, ready to test Altar’s boundaries and destroy Doran where he stood. “Calm down, you old fool, before you tire yourself out.”

Doran could hardly keep a breath in. His large, protruding chest rose and fell, tugging at the worn buttons across his jacket. “You want to bargain for your father? Then bargain.”

I turned around the space, arms wide. “I have nothing but a promise.”

“And pray tell, what is this promise? More concealed threats?”

“That depends on your answer, Doran,” I said, shrugging. “If you don’t return my father, then I will hunt you down. In this realm, or the next. Do not be the hand that causes me to lose the final thing I have left. Do not be the reason I break. There is nothing…” I spat this time, hissing through clenched teeth. “ Nothing more frightening than a man with nothing left to lose.”

Doran narrowed his eyes, the corner of his lip twisting in a sadistic smile. “Ah, a matter we both agree on.”

If it was not for the ominous power that hummed through Welhaven, I would’ve unleashed my ice upon him. But Welhaven whispered its warning, cautioning me to keep it in with nothing but a feeling.

Was Altar watching? Waiting for me to step out of line and unleash his wrath upon me in return?

Even with that thought niggling in the back of my mind, I knew I’d still make the first move against Doran if I had to. No matter the consequence. If my father’s life required my action, I would do it.

“You must wish to see your father terribly,” Doran sang, expression melting from one of fury to serenity in a moment. “I cannot disagree with you, Robin. It does not feel right to be the one to keep you from someone you love. Perhaps I will give him to you after all.”

“More tricks?” I asked.

“No,” Doran said. “I have not the time for tricks.”

I flinched back as Doran raised a hand before him, splitting the air in half until the spindle of light allowed for a hunched body to be pushed through. My breath caught in my throat, my world falling away from me as I lost myself to the visitor.

I watched, frozen to the spot, as my father was deposited on the ground at my feet. In that moment I cared little for what Doran saw me as. The walls of confidence I had built crumbled as I threw myself to the ground, cradling my father with gentle hands.

“An Oakstorm is loyal to their word,” Doran mumbled, watching as I searched my father’s pale face. His skin was cold, yet slick to the touch, so terribly pale that I could see hints of his veins beneath.

“Why?” I looked up through blurry eyes as tears of anger threatened to escape with a single blink. “All of this, all of your requests and demands, and you give him to me so willingly. I don’t believe it could be that easy. I don’t trust you.”

“Then you are smarter than I gave you credit for.” Doran chewed on his lower lip, flashing yellow-stained teeth. He raised a hand and weakly flicked two fingers in signal for the masked guard to stand by his side

“What do you want, Doran?”

“I have everything I require.”

“Ro… Robin,” Father croaked, distracting me. “L–leave.”

I looked down to him, relaxing my features, as I cupped his bearded cheek. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“My Robin…” Father gargled on his words. Before my eyes he was slipping in and out of consciousness. I was no empath, but I sensed his pain and suffering as if it was my own.

“Touching, truly,” Doran cooed, his face pinched in disgust as he watched us. “Seeing father and son reunited. Something I never believed possible after Tarron’s life was taken from me.”

Should I have shouted for Althea? All I could think about was getting my father as far away from here as possible. Away from Doran. And I was prepared to fight my way out if the moment required, even with the low hum of warning as the ancient presence lingered through the atmosphere of Welhaven.

“I will not forgive you for what you have done,” I spat at the deranged king. I briefly caught a glance of my Father’s hand, which was wrapped in dirtied, brown-stained bandages. I could hardly look at it without the rage erupting inside of me. I knew what waited beneath the wrappings just as I knew what didn’t.

A finger. A finger that resided in Farrador.

Was that Doran’s plan? Goading me into attacking first?

“Believe, my boy, I do not require forgiveness. There is nothing I want from you anymore. As I have told you, I have everything I need.”

I smiled, knowing the man he had spent weeks petitioning for was still miles away, in the safety of Farrador’s walls. “Well, that is just not true, is it, Doran?”

“Is it not?” Doran returned my smile, one that seemed to glow from within his mischievous gaze. “You are not the only one who has had a reunion with someone of their blood today. You took something from me, but in return have given something as well. And for that I must thank you.”

I watched as the mad king raised a hand and placed it on the shoulder of the statuesque guard. The steel-wrought mask obscured their features, a monstrous face carved into the metal, one that would inspire fear in those unfortunate enough to be close to them. “I do not need to hear any more from you. We are done here.”

“Stay,” Doran purred, pouting slightly as though I had offended him with my wish for haste. “I have something I would like to show you before we part ways again.”

He leaned into the fey guard’s shoulder, hand covering his mouth, as he whispered into their ear. I couldn’t hear what Doran said, nor did I care. My focus was on my father. I wrapped my father’s arm around my shoulder and hoisted him from the floor. For a man of his age and size, it should’ve been impossible to carry him alone. But the weeks had been unkind to him. I could feel his bones beneath the thin, tattered layering of his clothes.

“Tarron was my prized possession. His mind sharp, his spirit unbroken. He was whole. Special, one would say. Besides his younger brother Lovis, who was stolen with my wife, all my other… offspring never seemed to be entirely… right. They were given a name in my Court, one that no one dared speak before me, but I heard whispers anyway. A title given to them from infancy for the demonic outbursts of aggression and anger. Some had even killed my Mounts… their mothers for the smallest of matters that other infants would have simply cried out for: hunger, tiredness. Do you know what that title is, Robin Icethorn?”

“He did not want to know,” came the voice of the guard. A familiar voice that had me looking up at the guard, Doran never removing his unrelenting grip from their shoulder as he continued to gloat aloud.

“Then I will tell him. Robin, I had spent many years making sure my twisted children were killed. Even being the one to draw the knife across their little soft necks. I could not trust others to do what was required to younglings. Then I had a change of heart, when I understood their potential–”

“Get to the point.” I took cautious steps backwards, slowly moving through the overgrown foliage towards the concaved entrance and those who waited beyond it. Althea, Gyah. I needed them.

“Show him,” Doran commanded, but not to me. He spoke to the guard in his grasp.

The guard’s finger lifted, grazing the metal mask, hesitating as though he fought internally to stop himself from lifting it. And it was that hesitation that entrapped my attention upon him.

“My creations, the warped and monstrous ones, were called Berserkers.” Doran tilted his head downwards, grin extending from ear to ear. His lips split slowly, linked by lines of spit which he spoke through. “Do you understand now?”

The world fell away from beneath my feet. Time stilled as I settled my eyes on the guard again, recognising their outline, their posture. My focus had been so completely on my father that I hadn’t even contemplated the impossibility stood beside Doran until they removed their mask.

I spluttered a gasp as it fell freely to the floor.

“Hello, little bird.”