Queen of Blood and Vengeance (Secrets of the Faerie Crown #4)

51. Arran

51

ARRAN

“The water came to life,” I repeated. I’d pulled back to near the neck of the Crossing, where it joined with the land.

By sheer numbers and a heavy dose of luck, we were going to prevail. If this battle had been against fae taken by the succubus, the outcome would have been different. If I’d left any of the troops back in Wolf Bay, the outcome would have been different. If Orcadion had listened to orders, it might have been over sooner.

“It must have been an elemental,” Barkke said. He sported a split lip and a deep wound to his shoulder that he’s sustained in his dog form. But he was upright and had earned a nod of respect from the blonde female lieutenant I had assigned him to shadow.

“Has there been any sign of Elora?” That was the only explanation that made any sense. The humans must have sent messengers into the western half of the continent as well and encountered what remained of the elemental army that was under Elora’s command.

Barkke shook his head. He didn’t know the female well, but I trusted him to at least recognize her from making her acquaintance in Eilean Gayl.

Maybe the elemental army had made their way to the Crossing on their own, but had not yet met up with Elora.

Veyka would be back any moment with Lyrena and a more comprehensive report from further down the land bridge. From this side, I could not see to the other. But she’d been working her way down when last I’d heard her silken voice in my mind.

I began to reach for the golden thread of the bond when a familiar hulking presence appeared in my periphery.

“Orcadion!”

For half a step, he looked like he would ignore me. Then his stepson—my son—leaned forward and murmured something I could not hear. Orcadion turned, the heavy brow-ridge that imitated the ridges of his eagle form turning his yellow eyes a deeper, nasty gold.

“Your Majesty.” Orcadion stepped on the bodies of fallen terrestrials as if they were nothing. He did not bother with the facsimile of a bow or even a nod.

“You deserted your duty.” Part of me had expected it. Orcadion had always been a ruthless bastard, and a position of power on the Dyad was not likely to change that. But I had changed more in the last year than even I could account for. Some stupid, na?ve part of me had hoped he would as well.

He rolled his shoulders, the nostrils of his wide, flat nose flaring. “I was detained.”

“You disobeyed direct orders from your commander and king, and you neglected your duty to mentor your stepson in his first battle.” It was more than enough to deserve death. Maybe I had changed more than even I realized. “You are confined to the fortress at Cayltay. I have no use for disobedient soldiers in my army.”

His upper lip curled, but he did not acknowledge the order. “The whelp saved your life, I believe.”

“My son acquitted himself well.” The words rolled off my tongue easier than I expected. “He may remain.”

Orcadion’s arms flared out from his sides in a clear threat. He wanted to shift, to use his sharp beak to tear out my throat.

Let him try.

But his arms dropped back to his side. The sneer remained in place. He turned away from me, back in the direction he’d been walking before—towards where the remainder of my troops were organizing.

“One last thing.”

He stilled, as did everyone around us. A handful of human survivors. Two dozen terrestrial soldiers within earshot. Three of my lieutenants.

“Kneel, Orcadion.”

He did not turn, but I heard his words just fine. “You did not fight in the Pit for that crown of yours. You are still nothing more than the Brutal Prince.”

He was lucky that Veyka was not there to hear his disrespect. She would not have bothered with his knees. She’d remove his head from his body for such words.

“Kneel, or I will cut off both your legs at the knee.” They would regrow. But it would be slow and painful. And there was nothing to stop another fauna-gifted terrestrial from challenging him for his seat on the Dyad while they healed.

Orcadion took one step. Bones crunched beneath his feet. Another step. He would not meet my eyes, but I did not need his respect. I only required his submission. As he kneeled, he kept his eyes fixed on those just behind me.

I waited until both of his knees touched the ground. I would not do him the honor of waiting for him to rise. But before I could life my foot, something closed around my ankle. Barkke lunged, but Orcadion threw his meaty body in the way, letting the monster drag me down into the water.

I recognized the blackened limbs that tangled around my own. The succubus could survive in the water. Of course they could. They did not need air, they did not fear the beasts of the deep. One pulled me down, another joining it. Even with the weight of the water slowing my movements, I got my amorite-swirled knife free from my belt. I stabbed blindly, water rushing up to obscure my view.

One succubus fell away, but another replaced it just as quickly.

It clawed up my body, ripping open the still-oozing wounds on my back with a fresh torrent of blood that mingled with the seawater.

I stabbed with the amorite dagger, but there were too many of them. The amorite had to land a fatal wound. Stabbing it in the shoulder or cutting off their arms wasn’t enough.

My feet kicked wildly, trying to force me back up to the surface. My boot connected with something, and I pushed off, but it gave way. Not enough leverage. I gulped, but more water than air filled my lungs.

Realization spread through me with the saltwater.

I was drowning.

Drowning was the worst-kept secret in Annwyn. A fae could heal from almost any injury if given enough time. Limbs would regrow. Wounds would knit, so long as the blood could be staunched long enough to replenish. Most humans believed that the only way to ensure a fae did not rise was to cut off their head.

But drowning was just as effective. Once the water filled the lungs and breathing stopped, there was no return.

This was how Igraine killed Parys.

Veyka would break…

She would sacrifice herself…

I tried to summon the strength, but it ebbed away from me with my lifeblood. The water swirled with red and black as the light from above dimmed to nothing. My last view of this realm would be the mixture of my own blood with a soul stolen by the succubus.

I’m sorry, Veyka. I tried to reach for the bond, but I knew my own hold on it was fraying.

Something hit my back, ramming into the already gaping wounds. But I was beyond feeling pain. As my eyes drifted closed, a lovely face appeared in the water. The fading light turned her white hair dark in silhouette, her eyes a darker blue. But at least I saw Veyka’s face… one last time …