A Kingdom of Lies (Realm of Fey #2)

CHAPTER 20

Duncan and Erix were laid out before me, eyes closed and bodies buried by a torrent of snow. The force had appeared from nothingness, exploding out from my body as though I was nothing but a vessel for the frozen storm. Ice and snow slashed outwards, leaving a scar across the bloodied, wet earth until everything around me was stained white.

Then everything was quiet.

I tried to steady my breathing, focusing through the throbbing pain that careened across my skull. It was a struggle to pull back the power, for my emotions were wild.

Both men were unmoving, hardly visible beneath the snow covering them. Erix was closer to me. The encasing of ice shattered around him, splayed out like wings of glass beneath his unmoving body. Duncan was further away; I could only just see the glint of his body, cheeks red and skin so pale it was almost blue beneath the cold.

My legs moved without much thought, closing in on the unconscious body of my former guard. My Erix. The bedding of soft, fresh snow cushioned the blow as my knees hit the ground. With rushed hands I pushed the slush from his neck, pressing my fingers into his skin in search of a pulse. A pool of ruby gore spread beneath his head. My hands were shaking viciously as I pressed fingers into his neck, against his limp wrist before tearing back his shirt and pressing my palm against his chest.

I felt nothing. At first I thought there was a faint beat, the fluttering of tired butterfly wings. But it was brief, and the more I searched, the more my panic built.

“Wake up,” I demanded, “Erix, wake up!”

I lowered my ear to his parted mouth, hoping to feel the brush of breath against my skin. But between the wind, the rain and snow, I didn’t feel anything to suggest he was breathing.

There was nothing monstrous about Erix’s expression. Calm, no different from being asleep. I could have laid my head down upon his chest and it would have been a mirror to the many nights we had spent together.

That would never happen again. Erix was gone.

I rocked back on my haunches, tilting my face to the dark sky. A keening scream tore out of my throat, ripping my soul apart as I unleashed my grief upon the world. I’d hoped the noise would wake him, but when I looked back down, his face was emotionless. Perhaps I should’ve checked the damage to his head, but I couldn’t bring myself to reach behind his skull in search of the wound. Not that I’d find it. There was too much blood – it coated everything.

Small cuts kissed across Erix’s face, marks left as a gift from the ice that had exploded around him. Ribbons of scarlet melted the snow plastered to his cheeks as it dribbled and spread beneath him.

“If you can hear me,” I began, lower lip trembling as I held his cheek. “Know that I forgive you. Your will was not your own, I know that. Deep down I do. But please survive. Please…” I choked on the grief, on the hollow sense of loss. “You’re free now.”

With tears slicing lines down my face, I left Erix where he lay. Each step was torture, each second a chance for him to call after me and tell me he lived. But there was no such reaction. I had to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, carrying the hope that the deep, velvet voice I had grown all too familiar with would call my name.

By the time I reached Duncan, my world was in pieces behind me.

Duncan’s eyes were wide open, flickering frantically around. He was alive at least. I’d killed one person today, Hunter or not, I couldn’t cope with knowing I’d killed him too.

But Duncan didn’t move. Besides laying his frightened eyes upon me, mouth parting and closing like a fish out of water.

“Get up,” I commanded, standing over him. “We need to leave.”

He didn’t respond. Whereas Erix’s expression was placid, Duncan’s face was pinched in a scowl, agony etched into every line.

“Duncan,” I snapped, trying to conceal the shake in my voice. Lowering myself down, I dug a hand beneath his back, trying to help him to standing, when my fingers felt something wet. “Our opportunity will–”

I pulled my hand back, Duncan hissing as if I’d just hurt him. Red dripped from my fingers, fresh gore lathered across my palm; it spread down my palm into the sleeve of my drenched shirt.

My heart could’ve stopped in that moment. Pulling him gently up into my lap, I could see the dark stain of blood across the ground and the mess of dark, matted hair upon the back of his head. Duncan groaned as I held him, a sound that was more beautiful than I could’ve ever imagined.

“Fuck, Duncan, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I lost control. I–”

His hand weakly reached up and gripped my arm, eyes flickering open for a moment, revealing the whites now bloodshot. “I’ll survive.”

I wasn’t convinced.

Holding Duncan in my arms I looked around, unable to swallow the panic. Not a single horse was left, only the cage remained, and it was impossible to even consider putting Duncan in it and pulling him to the nearest town for aid.

I had no idea where I was, not recognising any landmarks. The overwhelming urge to scream again almost took over. My magic had retreated, like a scorned dog punished for misbehaving. There was nothing to help me.

My mind, in its panicked and horrified state, focused on Duncan and keeping him alive. Perhaps it was a way to protect myself from what I’d done, but I knew in that moment, there was no way I was going to let him die.

“I need to get you help,” I said, flirting with the idea of leaving him to find someone, anyone . How far was Althea’s army? Could we wait here for them to turn up? But I knew the moment they saw Duncan they’d finish the job. He was the enemy, and I wanted to save him.

A weak hand lay upon my arm and squeezed, snatching my attention back down to him.

“Don’t… don’t you dare leave me, Robin Icethorn,” Duncan warned, hardly able to keep his eyes open. He winced, trying to sit up but groaning as though his entire body ached.

“Then tell me what to do,” I said, urgent and panicked.

Duncan took a rasped breath in, filling lungs with frozen air. “There is a village not far from here. Look for the church. He will help.” His voice weakened, words broken by rhythmless breaths. “He will…”

Duncan’s eyes fluttered closed and didn’t open again.

“I can’t do this alone,” I shouted, shaking his shoulders and regretting it instantly. “You’re going to have to help me. Stay awake, damn you, Duncan!”

I knew I had to act. Sitting around in the blood-soaked snow wouldn’t achieve anything. Soon enough wolves and other creatures would catch the scent of death and come looking.

Latching onto the promise of a nearby town, I got to work.

It took a lot to pull him from the ground. Duncan was stubborn enough to keep himself on his feet even as he fought to keep consciousness. I tried not to think about the blood pouring from his head as we began to navigate ourselves away from the macabre scene.

I gritted my teeth, forcing my spine to keep as steady as possible whilst I hobbled forward with Duncan’s arm wrapped around my shoulders. All I could do was focus on the darkening road ahead, hoping the promise of a village was true. My legs burned and my body ached, but on I pushed, putting as much space between us and Erix as I could whilst studying the distance for signs of life.

Ayvbury . The name of the village was carved into a wooden sign that swung in the nightly winds. It was the squeak of the sign’s aged hinges that tore me from the strange trance. I’d been walking for what felt like an age, half dragging Duncan, whose arm clung to my shoulders and his awkward feet dragged across the ground.

All I thought about was moving my feet, one after the other. If it wasn’t for the sound of the old hinges, I would never have looked up.

It took a lot of inner strength not to fall to my knees and shout for help when I realised I had made it. Before me stood darkened buildings, neatly stacked beside one another, on either side of a narrow street. Surely someone would hear me and come to help if I shouted? But there was no telling who dwelled here. A fey and a Hunter, which one would they welcome. I knew it wouldn’t be both. So, onwards I pushed, knees shaking, as I carried on walking.

If I looked back it would’ve been to search for Erix, but deep down I knew he’d never follow. Never again.

The dirt path changed. Suddenly the soft ground became hard as cobbled stones spread out beneath me. Stubborn weeds wrapped around each cobble as though the earth tried to claim them back.

Keep going, I told myself.

Even my internal encouragement sounded tired. But at least it was something to keep me company. Duncan had not made a sound for a long while now. The wound on the back of his head covered his neck in dried streaks of blood.

Guilt kept me walking as much as my desire to put distance between Erix and us. If I had kept some lick of control, then Duncan would not have been in this state. It was my duty to get him the help he needed.

To reach my destination I needed Duncan alive. He was my focus now. If I didn’t have one, I would perish too.

At first, it was hard to work out which building was a church. I’d never been inside of one, nor had I cared to pay them much mind. Father was not a religious man, perhaps due to his history with the Hunters, whom I know knew to be a group of cultists with their own faith. But there was one detail that caught my attention as I navigated through the empty streets of Ayvbury. There was a towering wooden building, the only one with a candle flame glowing in the uppermost window. Most of the other buildings we passed were darkened within, but this showed some sign of life.

It was the glow of candlelight that drew me towards the building but the symbol hanging above the arched, black-painted door had me slowing my step. A wheel, spoked by two crossing lines, pointing south, east and west, with the northern line passing over the boundary of the circle in an arrow-shaped edge. I didn’t need to be a man of faith to recognise it as the symbol of the Creator. A circle that represented life, the lines pointing in all directions to show that the Creator’s love always covered the people no matter where they dwelled.

But that northern arrow facing skyward represented the Creator’s realm, a kingdom that was believed to exist in a world above the clouds.

I kept moving, changing direction as I passed through the gateless fence towards the main entrance. This had to be it.

Why did a Hunter care to be taken to such a place?

The wooden stairs leading up to the door groaned as I took my first step upon them. There was nothing steep about them, but it felt as though I climbed the face of a mountain with a boulder attached to my side, ready to pull me backwards without warning.

I could never have expected to enter a church like this; a fey, unwanted by their religion, alongside a Hunter who worshipped a different god. As I lifted a shaking arm, rapping my knuckles against the door, I couldn’t help but recognise just how much my life had changed in a short time.

Time stretched out. I was confident no one would answer. I knocked again; this time harder, with desperation. I’d almost given up hope when I heard shuffling of heavy feet on the other side.

The door was thrown open, the warm glow of orange flame washing across us. “The Creator never rests, but his servants do. Could this not wait for dawn or do your sins require immediate repentance?”

Haloed in the light stood an ancient, stout man. He was short, belly pressing outwards in the cream, dress-like shawl he wore. His hair was clumped in white billowy tufts at the side of his head, leaving the top hairless and shiny. He carried a candle within a brass cup, lifting it out towards us as though his eyesight was poor.

I could only imagine what went through the old man’s mind, looking out upon a grime-covered fey and a limp, unconscious man who bore the white hand mark of his faith upon a blood-covered jacket.

“My, my.” He clutched at his chest, scrunching the material of his shawl into a ball as though his heart hurt. Amber eyes flickered from me to Duncan and back again, wiry, long-haired brows pinching into a scowl. “What a sorry sight this is.”

Should I have said something? I couldn’t find the words, except one that came out of me with ease.

“Help.”

After a tense moment of silence, the man shuffled to the side, moving away from the entrance. “I think it’s best you both come inside.”

I hesitated, looking into the narrow corridor before me. There was nothing more than candles dripping down the walls and a long, red carpet runner. Most of the doors I could see were closed, all besides the one at the far end which was left open at an angle.

“ He told me to come here,” I finally said, feeling the heat of the ancient man’s gaze as it skimmed across the points of my ears.

“Then in you come.” He bowed his head, gesturing with the candle for us to enter. “Quickly, please, before you’re seen.”

I took a step, neck straining as I hoisted Duncan’s limp body over the threshold.

“It would seem you have both had an eventful evening,” the man began, the tone of his voice soft and welcoming. He ushered me out of the way, peeping out into the dark to see if anyone had watched us before shutting the door.

“He’s badly hurt,” I muttered, cringing as the door snapped against its frame. “There was a lot of blood.”

Hunter’s blood. Erix’s blood.

My fault.

“Duncan Rackley always had a way of getting himself in trouble. Come, follow me. I will not profess that I’m a man of healing, but I will do what I can to help.”

A chill coursed through my body, numbing my arms and legs. I couldn’t move. I stood frozen as the man began to waddle down the corridor. He must have sensed my hesitation, for he turned and glowered at me.

“What is the matter?”

“I didn’t tell you his name,” I said through a lump in my throat.

The man smiled, shoulders relaxing as though he was a friend feeling comfortable in another’s company. “No, I suppose you didn’t. If there is one thing I remember better than my prayers, it is a name. Now, let us hurry before he bleeds out upon the floor, shall we? It would be hard to explain to the morning clergy why there’s blood staining the carpets.”

I kept still, arm tightening around Duncan’s side, unable to take a step to follow him. The old man noticed, offering me what felt like a pitiful smile.

“You are welcome within my walls, young man,” he said. “Pointed ears or not, the Creator’s home is a place for all. However, the breeze you’re letting in isn’t. Inside, now. I have some reacquainting to do with General Rackley.”