A Kingdom of Lies (Realm of Fey #2)

CHAPTER 30

Erix’s visit was a distant memory when dawn arrived without Duncan’s return. I paced the forest, mind whirling with what to do. His warning not to follow him was no more than a whisper, and one I knew I’d no choice but to ignore.

As if I was ever going to listen.

It was a crisp and cloudless day. The winds had retreated, giving room for the tension of his absence to roar around me in its stead. Even with my usual comfort during the colder weather, a shiver was present across my skin.

Each moment dragged into an eternity. I found myself scanning the distance begging for him to return, holding out hope that he’d only be minutes away from finding his way back to me. Perhaps he was lost . That was the first thought I had, which soon perished with the realisation that Duncan was a man who knew himself as well as his surroundings. Losing himself on a path back to me wouldn’t have been an option. The wave of what-ifs that followed grew darker and more horrific with every hour that Duncan did not return.

Soon the sky was bright blue, not a single smudge of pink dawn tones across it. The sun was reaching its apex above me, rays no more than cold beams across the landscape.

The view of Lockinge was clearer than yesterday, the outline of the castle upon the hill nothing more than a dark mark against the flattened land before me. A city sprawled beneath, clustered in its shadow. From such a distance I could not make out any important details of it, but I could understand its size without uncertainty.

I chewed on my nails as I watched Lockinge helplessly. My eyes followed the city downward, snaking across the grey stone path that cut across the landscape, the very one the Hunters had paraded upon. And there, no more than a faint marking of buildings, was their final checkpoint.

Duncan .

He had to be there. And regardless, I had to pass through there to get to the city’s only main entrance. Duncan had explained the toll for entering Lockinge, a single payment for travellers to make in tax towards the kingdom. Coin, preferably, unless you bore the mark of the Hand, then entry was free.

I left our makeshift camp, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other before I changed my mind. The only way into Lockinge was with Duncan. Regardless, something was wrong. He wouldn’t have left me for longer than he had planned. It was for that reason I swallowed my anxiety and began my journey to Lockinge’s outskirts.

I thought of nothing but finding him. The small hope that we would simply bump into one another upon the road to Lockinge dwindled within me. The closer I grew the more I let that thought slip through my fingers.

The place where hope had lived soon hollowed and filled with rage. The feeling was hideous and overwhelming. It caused my teeth to grind together, and my hands to clench into hardened fists at my sides.

At first, I walked alone, cutting down the middle of the dirt path with not even a bird to witness my journey. Then I recognised the closeness of humans, hardly caring or noticing as they passed me on wagons or by foot. I kept my head down, my hood drawn up to cover my ears hoping to stay as unnoticed as I could.

Then I heard the squawks of birds – hawks .

Large, winged creatures circled above me and cried out in warning to whoever listened. They were brave little fuckers who dived as though to peck the hair from my head. Tracker’s companions.

The Hunters were close.

I didn’t need to wave the birds off, a single thought brought on the frozen chill of winter as I finally set loose my power. I watched the birds with a sense of pride as they flew back towards the looming outskirts of the final checkpoint. My eyes tracked their flight until my attention landed upon a wooden wall, spiked and towering, which came into focus ahead of me.

People stood upon the wooden barracks as I walked towards them. Hunters. I knew it for certain as the hawks landed upon outstretched arms. Those without a bird to greet them held up crossbows, sun catching the sharpened points of the bolts readied and loaded across them.

They were expecting me – that much was clear.

I could’ve stopped them, thrown forward the storm that twisted within my bones, my blood. There was no doubt in the power within me. Although still new to me, I trusted in the ability to become a force to be reckoned with.

Instead, I kept up pace, each footstep leaving a scar of ice across the dirt path, as I closed in on the checkpoint. I’d left my ability to think clearly at the camp, perhaps even further behind on my journey. Now was only action. Only anger and power.

Only madness , a whisper confirmed.

“Halt!” someone unseen shouted from the barracks. I didn’t care who. More Hunters raced out through the open gates, each wielding an unsheathed blade or a different weapon of choice, each one raised in honour of my arrival.

I lowered my hood, there was no point in hiding anymore.

Power crackled in the palm of my hands, the sound as melodic as a mother’s lullaby. It echoed the frantic beat of my heart, thundering faster as I grew closer to the Hunters.

“I demand the release of Duncan Rackley,” I called, voice filling the space before me. “Return what you took from me.”

Silence replied. Not a single one denied me, nor responded in confusion. It was unspoken what they had taken from me, and their hush told me my deepest worries were real.

A red-haired man stood forward from the line, hawk perched upon his broad shoulder and hands free of a weapon. His expression was placid and void of emotion, all beside the slight crease of skin around the sides of his eyes.

It was Kayne, Duncan’s friend and supposed ally.

“There is no need for the fanning feathers to prove your magic. Even with your power there is one of you and many of us. I recommend you listen, before someone else gets hurt.”

“Kayne,” I muttered, rejoicing as he winced, hating that I knew his name. “Where is he?”

“Paying penance for his sins,” he replied, teeth gritted in turmoil. “He was a fool to return and even more a fool for not destroying you when he had the chance.”

“And what sins are those you speak of?” I questioned, toying with the idea of conjuring powerful, ice-kissed winds to freeze each and every one of these twisted fuckers.

“I hardly imagine you would like me to repeat his crimes for all to hear.”

The laugh that tore out of me was ugly and sharp. The beastly hawk upon Kayne’s shoulder flared its wings, releasing a shrill cry through its snapping beak.

“Don’t mock me,” I called out. “I’m not leaving this place without Duncan, so let the choice be yours. You either return him to me willingly, or you will see what a king will do for those he cares for.”

“Your threats are wasted, fey. King or not, Duwar protects us. Before you raise your power against us you will find a bolt in your chest followed by a noose around the neck of the man you’ve bewitched. Tread carefully.”

I silently refused to lose another person. Duncan was mine, I’d claimed him. “Give. Him. To. Me .”

There was an emotion across Kayne’s face that I could almost place. He chewed subtly on his lower lip, eyes heavy as he studied me at our distance. My breath caught as he closed his eyes, his forehead creased in whatever silent torment overwhelmed him, and he turned away from me.

“Now,” I demanded, letting the frozen air amplify my voice.

“Bring Duncan out for the fey to see that our threats are not empty like his,” Kayne shouted, raising a fist in the air beside him. “If the fey wants to see what has become of those requiring repentance, then we shall show him.”

I followed the commotion behind Kayne, eyes scanning the line that shifted to make room for a huddle of three people to be clearly seen. Duncan . His name screamed throughout my very being. He was shirtless, the expanse of skin peppered in silver whispers of past scars was now mostly hidden behind the bleeding gashes that covered them, countless lines of dried and angry welts. His head hung, chin to his bare chest, dark curtains of hair hanging limp and greasy before him.

Duncan limped ahead, urged on by the sharp points of swords held at his back. If he faltered the tips would catch his skin and tear new cuts. I blinked, wishing to rub my eyes and rid myself of the scene before me.

“His fate will be far different from yours,” Kayne called, voice breaking slightly as he did everything in his power to not look at Duncan. “Duwar doesn’t look favourably upon sinners. They must pay for their immoralities with blood. Only when the poison leaves them will Duwar decide to bless them with renewed purpose. And as you now understand, Duncan has had many chances before.”

Numb and lost to the roaring in my mind, I took a step forward. Only one. The air screamed in warning, a screeching whistle as a bolt shot towards me. It missed on purpose, the dirt beside my foot ripped up in a cloud of dust as the projectile stabbed into the ground.

“The next one will not be as kind.”

Perhaps it was Kayne who spoke. I didn’t care for anyone else now as Duncan finally raised his head, veins of struggle protruding from his neck, and looked at me. His eyes were narrowed with haunting determination. Even now he bled, ruby droplets crashing into the ground and pooling beneath him for all to see.

I had no choice but to comply. If I attacked, as my mind desired to do, it would only solidify me as a monster – proving their warped thoughts. I had to use sense. Duncan’s life was at risk, evident from the sword held to his throat.

The magic I clung to disappeared in a moment, retreating into the pits of my soul as Duncan’s weakened voice broke over the crowd. “I – I told you to lea – leave me.” It took everything in Duncan’s power to speak through his agonising pain, spitting as he forced the words out. His lip was bust, his eye blackened by bruises.

I shook my head, focusing solely on him. “You should have known I was a liar.”

Duncan let loose a raspy breath. He looked to Kayne who stood rigid and stiff. I caught the prickling of discomfort across the tracker who Duncan had called a friend. Not once had he looked Duncan’s way, his gaze kept upon me. Was it out of carelessness or fear for what Kayne would see if he looked upon the wounded, bleeding Duncan?

Hunters started prowling towards me with caution.

“No matter my disgust, I’m not in a position to judge your fate,” Kayne said. “Duncan will be tried before Duwar as his judge, but you… You have turned many eyes upon you. The Hand has waited for you to arrive and wishes to discuss matters with you directly. On your knees, fey. If you care about Duncan, you will not resist.”

Kayne knew he’d won. I did as he asked, dropping to my knees. My hands slammed into the ground and no matter how I wished to push my power across it, the magic would not aid me.

“If you hurt him, I’ll coat all of Durmain in a storm,” I warned, watching as Duncan slumped forward only to be stopped by a blade at his throat. I sobbed as I watched fresh blood spill down his torso, staining the dark material of his ruined trousers. “There is a power inside of me, one that you’ll face the full wrath of.”

“I’m a man of my word, fey,” Kayne spat.

“You’re supposed to be his friend. Duncan trusts you. A man of his word means nothing if he cannot protect the ones he cares about.”

“Duncan has only hurt himself with his own actions. Going against his faith, his purpose. That was his doing.”

“ You ,” I growled as Hunters reached me, hands gripping my arms and twisting them behind my back. I didn’t fight them off, for Duncan’s sake. “He trusted you.”

Kayne rocked back an inch, enough for me to know my words caused him discomfort. He then turned away from me, calling his command for those who would listen. “Take them both. We leave for Lockinge immediately.” And with the uncaring swish of his cloak and a cry of the hawk upon his shoulder, Kayne turned his back on me and walked through the line of Hunters all without glancing towards Duncan.

Iron clasped around my wrists, nullifying a power inside of me. Another cold kiss of it strangled my throat, pinching my skin and squeezing tight.

I was hoisted from the ground by chains. They were connected between my neck and wrists and held in the grasp of a boulder-like man as though I was a dog at the end of a leash. All the while I studied Duncan, begging for him to look at me, praying to whatever god would listen to keep him alive long enough for me to petition for his safety. If there was one voice strong enough to end his suffering, it was the Hand.

And I now had my invitation to meet with him.

But at what cost?