Page 26
Story: A Broken Blade
“You think the Shadow is Fae?” The king’s words were hot and dangerous.
“I considered it, Your Majesty,” I said, lowering my head. “But it would be very difficult for a Dark Fae to roam through Elverath without alerting the notice of the Shades. Or catching the notice of the people.” The Dark Fae were easily marked by the violet color of their eyes.
“I think it’s more likely that he’s a Halfling,” I continued. “One that grew up in the Faeland perhaps. Or...”
“An Elf,” Killian whispered for me. I nodded as a cold hush fell about the throne room. Few dared to mention Elves in front of the king. I could hear the king’s teeth grinding as I held my breath.
“I don’t care what he is,” Damien said, daring to break the silence. “A traitor is a traitor, and he needs to be killed.” He drummed his fingers along the armrest, looking to his father for approval. The king’s face remained still, his eyes tracing over Damien. He nodded once and turned toward Killian.
“I agree,” Killian said. He was clenching and unclenching a fist on his chair.
“With the Blade or your brother?” the king asked, waving his arm from me to Damien.
“Both,” Killian replied. “If there was a Dark Fae traipsing across Elverath, the Shades would know. Either way, this Shadow is becoming too large a threat to ignore.”
The king gave a stiff nod.
“It’s time for the Shadow to be brought to justice.” The king’s eyes flashed down to where I stood. “Prepare yourself for a hunt, my Blade. I don’t want you to return until you’ve unmasked this Shadow, preferably by bringing me his head.”
“Gladly, Your Majesty,” I said with a bow.
“Didn’t I say this last time?” Damien mumbled. He tossed his legs over the side of his chair again, his bored expression returning.
The king’s eyes were hard as he stared at me. “I trust you to finish this as you see fit. But know, where you are headed, I cannot send anyone after you if things go awry.”
I nodded. I had expected nothing less.
“And if you can’t give me the Shadow’s life,” the king continued, his mouth set in a straight line, “then you will give me yours.”
My back stiffened. My cloak tightened around my neck as my pulse raced. I pulled it away from the skin—it felt too much like a noose.
“An Elf could only hide across the Burning Mountains,” Killian said, his face soft beside his father’s stony countenance. “Which Fae city will you target?” he asked with a quick glance at his father.
“Aralinth.”
The city of eternal spring.
IHAD NEVER BEENto Aralinth. The Dark Fae kept their city well-protected from those who served the king. Anytime the Crown had business with the Fae, they would meet the royal emissaries in Caerth. The little trade that occurred between the Faeland and the kingdom was also done east of the Burning Mountains.
Few in Elverath had ever seen a Dark Fae, yet legends of their powers were still told across the kingdom. The way they could wrap their opponents in darkness, blinding them until they landed a fatal blow. How they could speak to their comrades without moving their lips, placing thoughts directly into minds. How they could transform any liquid into a tasteless, scentless poison that would cause the most potent agony before bringing a victim to their death.
I hoped the rumors of their magic fading were true. I didn’t know how long I would survive in the Faeland if they weren’t.
I swallowed the fear as I walked away from the throne room. The decision was made. I was going to the Faeland in search of the Shadow. If I had to take out the rest of the Dark Fae before I slid my blade across his throat, so be it. The Order was counting on me. The Halflings were counting on me.
And what did I have to lose? I would either die in the Faeland at the hands of their magic or return to the king empty-handed and he would dispose of me. Journeying to the capital city of the Fae was dangerous—perhaps the most dangerous thing I’d ever done—but it was also my only option.
Droplets of sweat formed along my brow as I walked across the palace. A familiar ache scratched my throat until it burned. My hand fell to my side, grasping for a wineskin that wasn’t there. I plucked the small vial out of my front pocket instead, pulling the glass top from its neck. I lifted the thin rod to my mouth and watched a tiny drop of ebony fall onto my tongue. It tasted sweet, sweeter than any fruit or wine I’d ever had.
Instantly, my shoulders relaxed and my heartbeat slowed. The burning in my throat settled enough that I could think of more than just how badly I wanted a drink. Still, I didn’t trust myself to stay too long in my chambers alone. I had spent too many solitary nights in those rooms drinking wine. It would be easy to fall into old habits and send a chambermaid to fetch a flagon or two.
I looked for distraction in the gardens. The suns were high in the sky, too hot for the ladies of the palace to stroll along the blossoms and too early in the day for the servants to be done with their work. It was the perfect time to be alone and think.
I sat under an old maple tree, its trunk sturdy against my back. I closed my eyes and let the warmth from the suns wash over me. The scent of fresh blooms wafted through the air. I could hear the soft murmur of chambermaids chatting as they laundered clothes outside of the kitchens. Their voices were carried on the same breeze that swept over the sea and through the hanging clothes. I let the peace wash over me and eventually lull me to sleep.
“Keera,” a voice called. I blinked as I looked up. All I saw was a black silhouette against the light of the suns behind them. “I thought you’d be back in your chambers by now.”
I rubbed my eye and smiled. I didn’t need to see her face to recognize Gwyn.
Table of Contents
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