Sapphire Falls (The Lost Realm #2)

34. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Rylo

R ylo sat at a long granite slab of a table next to the Goldoth queen. Her brilliant diamond skin glittered in the small fae lights that illuminated the dark expanse of the dining room cavern. Morgan was right behind him, standing. She wore the same silvery gown he’d provided to her on the Night of Feasts, and as before, he had a hard time taking his eyes off her beauty.

As he suspected, and despite her finery, he would be feeding her table scraps from his own plate. She’d wrinkled her nose at the proclamation from Maglar, but didn’t comment or complain. That was one of the things he was drawn to about Morgan. She had an uncanny sense to know when to hold her tongue and when to speak up and voice her opinion, unlike her sister who would have probably already asked where Goldoth keeps its relic.

The growing attraction he held for her was something he hadn’t anticipated, yet he saw no reason not to explore the allure she had over him. It was the sort of relationship he welcomed with the women near him. As long as they remembered he had no interest in anything other than a physical relationship, he saw no issue. Morgan would be the kind of woman who understood his motivations and his reason for keeping their relationship strictly physical.

He’d need to address it in a straightforward manner, rather than in his typical games of the heart. After all, that was all she’d asked of him. To no longer say half truths and use trickery.

He felt the leash between them tug tight and turned to see her adjusting where she stood. She shot him a scowl, and he could have sworn that he felt her attempting to burrow into his mind. The tiniest scratching on the surface of his thoughts, yet it was impossible. She was shackled by Goldoth’s magical chains.

Grimils wearing iron collars brought plates of food and set them before each member of the dinner party. Rylo didn’t bother to hide his disgust in being fed by a dark fae designed for battle. How could Maglar and Mara force such beings into subservience?

“Is something not to your standards, King Rylo?” Maglar asked in a harsh voice.

“No, this looks perfectly acceptable. Is it your famed broiled cave fish?” Rylo asked, keeping up a blase tone. He poked the fish with his fork, nearly translucent scales peeling back to reveal a soft white flesh traced in flecks of grey and brown.

Maglar grunted his response. “Caught locally in Onyx River, deep underground.”

“Downstream of your mine tailings, I presume?” He heard Morgan let out a tiny snicker.

“Yes, the tailings do go into the river, but they are perfectly fine. We have been using that river for our water and food source for centuries with no ill effect. Try some, I insist.”

“Well, if you are insisting, then I mustn’t refuse such hospitality,” Rylo drolled.

Morgan let out a small snort.

Mara took delicate bites beside him. He was going to have to try these folks' toxic fish. He took a bite and found it just as horrid as he expected. He hated fish, even after his sister married that horrible troll from Goldoth and he demanded imported and preserved cave fish at meals, Rylo would always find some excuse to make himself scarce.

At least this was freshly caught muddy-flavored fish.

He took a generous gulp of his wine. Another strange flavor struck his tongue. Goldoth imported their wine from nations to the south that Nephel had little dealings with.

“King Rylo, offer some to your witch. She looks famished,” Mara said with an unsettling grin.

He turned to Morgan and saw the pinched look on her face that accentuated the ridge of scars across her cheeks.

“Care to taste the national dish?” Rylo asked.

“Thank you for offering, but I’m not very hungry.”

Rylo nodded and turned back to his wine, trying to get the dirty flavor out of his mouth.

Mara’s smile was nearly a grimace as she said, “Rylo, I really must insist. She must try some cave fish.”

“If she is not hungry, I’ll not force her to eat.”

“It is rather bad manners, isn’t it? She must have a taste.” Mara turned and looked at Morgan. “Try some of mine. It’s perfectly safe, but you have never tasted the likes of it.”

Rylo had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Morgan didn’t need to taste the likes of her foul fish.

He could see Morgan didn’t want to eat something that he fed her. Smart girl. He could have her spilling her secrets, including her thoughts on the taste of this disgusting fish. Her intense stare at him made him feel like she was weighing and measuring him, deciding if she truly could trust him with her secrets.

He wished he could get into her mind, tell her that she didn’t need to fear. They were a team, they had the same goals, and he wouldn’t jeopardize her secrets for these folk. Instead, he tried to reassure her with his face, letting it soften from his typical bored expression.

“Okay. I’ll try a bit,” Morgan said, looking at him in a way that told him that she was trusting him. When had someone outside of possibly Selene or Elio even truly trusted him on a personal level?

Rylo tugged on the leash, pulling Morgan close. She was close enough for him to smell. Her scent of crisp winter air and oranges dulled the scent of murky fish from his senses. He took a small portion of the fish on his fork and lifted it up to her rosy lips. She opened for him, and he slid the food into her mouth.

Her eyes widened as he watched her swallow. Was she going to keep it down?

“Can I have a drink, please?” Morgan asked and he didn’t hesitate to lift his goblet to her mouth, letting her drink deeply.

Mara’s crystalline eyes sparkled and Maglar pressed the flat of his palms together in a slow rhythm. “Now,” Maglar broke the silence that had descended on the room. “How did you travel to our realm?”

Maglar looked at Morgan with hard, dark eyes, but she stared back at his unrelenting gaze. A sense of pride welled in Rylo’s cold, black heart.

“I don’t know how I got here. It’s not something I planned,” Morgan replied.

Mara frowned. “Do you have information on your side of the portal that led you to King Rylo specifically?”

“No, of course not.”

Mara’s lips pursed. “Rylo, give your little witch another sip of that wine, please.”

“Of course, Queen Mara,” Rylo said, holding the cup to Morgan’s lips.

“Now, what does the Goddess want with you? Why would she choose you to be branded with her stars?”

Morgan frowned, but didn’t back down from Mara’s words. “I don’t know. I’m held against my will by King Rylo. He’s locked me in his torture tower and has now forced me to join him here.”

Rylo kept his face a cold mask, but inside he was laughing. How he loved hearing her lies mingled with truth slide off her tongue, watching her play the King and Queen of Goldoth for fools. These two actually thought they could force the truth out of her just with a bit of food and drink. How did they not know that only the one who shared the meal could draw the truth out of a human?

“If you are kept against your will, why would he dress you in such finery?” Maglar asked, tipping his chin to her dress.

Morgan looked down, the picture of a demure slave. “He does it to shame me. He says that he likes seeing something so scarred and ugly dressed as she shouldn’t be. It’s a game for him.” She paused and her voice shook as she said, “He likes to call me Scar when we’re alone.”

Rylo nearly spit out his wine as Maglar let out a cackle. “Rylo, we’ll do well together. Now, I have something I’d like to share with you. Can one of your folk bring your witch back to your rooms? I’d suggest she not be present.”

Rylo could hardly hear Maglar’s words over the ringing in his ears from what Morgan said. Did she believe what she said, or was it another one of her lies? He didn’t consider her ugly and hadn’t cared that her face was damaged. There was such loveliness to her intelligent green eyes, her full lips, and pale skin against her black hair.

“Yes, of course. Elio can see her securely back to my chambers. I don’t trust her with another.”

Elio stood, their eyes met, and Rylo felt assured that he knew what his task would be as he walked away with Morgan’s leash in his hands.

When they were out of the room, Mara turned to him and said, “I was wondering why you chose to keep her scars in place. She’s difficult to look at. Such a waste, I’m sure she was once a true beauty. Now I understand your choice.”

Rylo gave a quick nod and took another drink of his wine. Goddess alive, he wanted this supper to be over soon.

He noticed Maglar call a slave over and whisper something into his ear. The slave turned and quickly left the room. Other slaves came forward and cleared the table of the cave fish. Shortly after, a runny pudding dessert was brought in. Topped with flakes of gold, Rylo took a tenuous bite. To his surprise, the flavor was better than he expected.

He was beginning to wonder why they’d called Morgan out of the room, when he heard a bone chilling wail in the corridor. Rylo looked to Maglar, who once again rubbed his hands together. Mara’s face was unreadable as she continued eating her dessert.

“Are you unconcerned about that sound?” Rylo asked with genuine curiosity.

“Oh! You are in for a treat! Yes, we haven’t shared our little secret with anyone, but…” Maglar shook with anticipation. “We believe you are of a like mind in our hopes for this realm. There are forces at work that could destroy our very way of life, and we see you are prepared to accept the natural balance of things before those events can manifest.”

Rylo felt a sense of unease grow in his stomach, and it had nothing to do with the fish and wine combination. He truly didn’t understand what the man was talking about. He wasn’t used to being the surprised one. He was used to being the one revealing secrets when the time was right.

“Yes, of course.” His agreement with Maglar’s statement felt sticky on his tongue. Too close to a lie.

The shrill cries filled the space as two small slaves entered the room, chained at their wrists, feet, and wearing the same collar Morgan wore. It was hard to tell if they were male or female in the low faelights, but based on the filthy sacks they wore and the long, stringy black hair, Rylo suspected they were women. The grimils who held their leash dragged the two folk, tugging them across the cold stone floor of the cavern. One of the women was the source of the frantic screams. The other didn’t seem conscious until Rylo saw the slight lift of their head.

“Here they are! My prized possessions,” Maglar beamed as he stood and took the chain leashes in his hand.

Rylo could see more clearly that they were both female. Tiny, emaciated women, they made Morgan look large in comparison. Rylo covered his disgust as Maglar gave the leashes a hard tug, jerking the women closer to him. The screaming one let out a painful gagging sound as her collar dug into her exposed throat. Rylo took in the marks on their bodies, the various bruises, scrapes, and cuts.

“Stand!” Maglar commanded, and both women stood on spindly legs, weak as a newborn colt.

Beyond their filthy conditions, something was very wrong with these folk. There was no visible essence. The two women looked up at Rylo with far too large of eyes. Unnaturally huge globes stared back at him in a filmy shade of grey. Their skin was so white it seemed almost translucent, just like the cave fish at supper. The two women were mirror images of each other. Twins.

“Show him your ears,” Mara said harshly.

The sister who’d been screaming let out a harsh shriek, yanking and jerking on her chains.

“They are not used to seeing others,” Maglar mumbled. “We keep them under close watch. Their powers—they could destroy these caverns in their entirety.”

Slowly, the quiet sister pulled back her ears, revealing what Rylo had begun to guess. Curved ears, human ears.

A sick, twisting sensation wrapped through him. “And your forehead?”

The girl moved the mass of slick, blackhair, revealing the five stars of Althea.

“Goddess alive,” Rylo gasped. The prophecy flashed through his mind. He turned to Maglar. “Do you know their age?”

“Nearly twenty-six. I was called in after their birth. The mother, of course, didn't survive, but the mark was there upon both their foreheads. Just before I was called in, I witnessed a fascinating prophecy. When I saw them, I knew I held the future of our realm in my hands.”

Rylo’s face didn’t display any of the emotions that were boiling inside him. What did this mean for Morgan? Was she even the one spoken of in the prophecy, or was that just a coincidence?

Another shrill scream filled the cavern as the more violent sister charged Maglar. Drawing up his essence, Maglar created a barrier of stone. The girl hit the rocks with a crunch, tumbling to the ground. Her collar tightened around her neck as she let out a strangled choke for the second time. The other sister dropped to the ground, crawling to her sister as she scooped her into her frail arms and whispered something that seemed to sooth the woman.

“Calamity and Tyranny are their names. Their powers as witches manifested slowly, but by the age of six they were able to do brilliant and terrible things with their magic. We’ve had witches before, but nothing of this magnitude.”

Rylo did frown at this statement. “You make it sound as though humans and witches are commonplace.”

Maglar grinned with pride. “Yes, they are. We are very selective with whom we let visit Onyx Caverns, as you know. This is, after all, your second visit. The last must have been when we sent our cousin to marry your sister. A pity how all that turned out. Have you ever wondered who works our mines? Who completes all that labor? Sure, we Goldoths are known for our fine crafts and mineral extraction, but those who do the hard work are our human slaves.”

“How? How can that be possible and why would you share that secret with me?” Rylo asked. This was worse than anything he’d imagined. He never dreamed that Goldoth held witches in captivity.

“When I heard how you stole the young rebel’s human soulmate, and you orchestrated the murder of Jasper, my interest in you was piqued. When I heard how you tore the sister of Savine’s soulmate from her at the gates of his home, I knew I’d found my ally. Humans are fragile, even witches can only survive forty to fifty years. These two are middle-age, and I need to utilize their power before they are no longer serviceable.”

Rylo didn’t mention that he had another human in his own realm who was already beyond those years, yet hadn’t aged. He would need to write to the leaders of Bayberry, Riggins and Po, to hear how they tethered their daughter’s life to their longevity. He’d take no chances of losing Morgan.

“I am flattered my reputation has reached you down here deep underground, yet you still haven’t explained how you came to have such a labor force.”

Rylo looked down at the sisters, holding each other close. The injured one shook in her sister’s embrace.

Mara chimed in, her dazzling eyes sparkled in the low light. “Goldoth has always utilized humans as their labor force; even before The Cleaving, humans were the ones to work our mines. We have moved deeper into the earth since then, but they have remained. Not even the witches cleaving our two realms apart could take our slaves from us. Our ancestors made adjustments. We no longer kept human villages above ground. They were emptied anyway. These humans have changed over the millenia, adapted to life in the dark. Our slaves live their entire lives underground, knowing nothing of sunlight, of the changing of seasons. This is to ensure their safety and keep our secret.”

A chill ran down Rylo’s back and he had to suppress his own sun glow from releasing, his essence stirring restlessly under his skin.

“And now you seek an alliance to defeat the other nations of Aeritis. You, with your strong armies of fae and endless resources, wish to ally with my much smaller, weaker nation. What is the advantage in that?”

The quieter sister let out a long, sorrowful moan.

“Take them away. See that Tyranny is healed. She needs her strength in the coming months,” Mara said. Maglar scowled at his soulmate, but didn’t object to her command. She turned her attention back to Rylo. “Both women have been headstrong since they were girls, but especially Tyranny. We’ve had to break her over the years to get her to the state she’s in now. If only she were more placid like your witch. Alas, we make due as we must with what the Goddess has generously gifted us.”

“They seem little more than animals to me,” Rylo replied.

Maglar beamed with pride. “Not at all! Wait until you see their powers, and you will better understand why we exercise such caution. Tyranny is a necromancer. She has the power to raise the dead. With the short mortality rates of our humans, it came as quite a shock when that magic stirred in a seven year old.” He laughed as if it was the funniest joke he’d ever said. Bile stung Rylo’s throat as he let out a false laugh. “We were battling walking corpses in the dark mining tunnels for months. Calamity can draw the earth into itself, like an implosion. Which, of course, is very destructive in a cave. Then, there’s the spell work to a lesser extent. Due to their dangerous natures, we haven’t had the ability to train them as we would have liked.”

Rylo held his empty cup up, and a grimil came forward, refilling it. He took another long draw from the glass before he continued. “You still haven’t answered my question. Why seek an alliance with me? You could easily defeat my nation on your way to overpowering others.”

Maglar’s striped essence writhed under his skin, his dark eyes seemed even blacker. “You would be our buffer against the Latians. We would prefer to strike to the south first before overtaking the north. Warring in the Latian winters is not possible, even their own civil war was stalled by the coming snow each year. We’d need our ally to hold the front until we were ready to make a move against the elk folk.”

This was exactly why Rylo needed to secure his own borders. His nation was but a small speck between two giants. Over the centuries, these two nations had whittled his borders down to nothing more than a strip of river canyon. Yes, he commanded the skies, but what did it matter if he lost the ground his folk called home?

“Yes, of course.” Rylo’s essence pushed against his skin. The need to release the growing tension under his skin itched and burned at him. He kept his wings tight against his shoulders, trying to prevent his twitching wings from displaying his discomfort. His sun glow ached to show these two who had true strength here.

“We have no desire to host a two-front war. Not yet. You are free to engage if you must, but I would prefer we hold the Latian border until we have a shared attack. We will not be able to aid you this winter, you understand. You would be free to keep our alliance between us, and we expect our secrets will not leave your lips,” Mara said. Maglar responded by drinking deep from his cup.

“And if I do not keep your secret? If I don’t choose this alliance?” Rylo asked. He had no doubt that this alliance wasn’t truly up for discussion on his part. It was certainly more of a tow the line or face the consequence sort of moment.

Mara reached out a finger, touching the blackened skin on his hand. He shuddered involuntarily and a bit of his essence glowed against his skin, making him the brightest thing in the room.

“It’s odd that you survived this, oath breaker. There’s something you are not telling us, but we’ll let you keep your secrets. We will have this alliance, and there will be an oath involved. We’ve disclosed too much to allow you to leave here without protecting ourselves. If you choose not to ally with us then we will make a slight adjustment to our plans. Once Calamity is unleashed, it won’t be difficult for her to topple your towers and the folk who reside there.”

Maglar grinned at his wife. “Since the death of Jasper, we deliberated together and knew you would make an excellent ally. We’ve heard of the power your witch contains. The shadows that dance for her and can cause such destruction. Don’t disappoint us now King Rylo, or you and your witch won’t escape these caverns.”

Rylo’s heart pounded. He’d assured Morgan that he’d not allow any folk to harm her. He couldn’t let that happen. Rylo had to do what he could to protect her, and if this alliance gave his people the security they needed to weather a storm to the south, then so be it. He had no allegiance or loyalty to Savine or Avery.

He drew in a deep breath. He was cornered and—a shadow, cool and sweet stirred in the outer reaches of his mind.

Rylo.

Morgan. Relief stirred in him. She’d been released from the collar that tampered her magic.

Rylo, if you can hear me, distract the king and queen. I’m going for the relic.

Clever, beautiful mind.

“There’s no need for confrontations. I’ll agree to an alliance with Goldoth, but I have my own conditions to consider. Let’s discuss this further without threats. If you truly want an alliance, then it needs to be an alliance, not a threat.”

“An understandable request. Come, let us retire to more comfortable accommodations to develop a better understanding,” Mara said as she stood.

Shadows, dark and comforting, spilled against his mind again.

Do your worst to those assholes.