Page 40
Story: Of Mist and Shadow
“Some humans, and even fae, are allergic to the mists, but you’d already be showing signs of it. The monsters, though, are very real.”
“I don’t care.” I balled my hands. “Just help me find Mother and Val.”
“You’ll have to vow you won’t run from me out there. I can’t help you find your family if you’re dead.”
I pressed my lips together. “Fine.”
One corner of his lip curved. “I vow to help you find your family and find a safe haven for your people to live far away from the mists, as long as you swear not to run from me. And then you’ll use the Mortal Blade to kill King Oberon.”
My chest felt tight, but I spoke the words. “I vow it.”
Magic rushed along my arms, prickling the hair on the back of my neck. I sucked in a breath as the Mist King shuddered. Power pulsed between us, a darkness so great that I felt suffocated by it. I stared at him, stomach twisting. His will was now linked to mine, and I had no way of escaping him. A single thread wove between us, wrapping around our souls, and tying tight. Maybe this had been a terrible idea.
I’d made a deal with the Mist King.
Sixteen
Tessa
When I awoke, I half-expected to find the Mist King skulking around outside my cell with the Mortal Blade clutched in his hand. But I was alone. As always, the dream started to fuzz around the edges as I broke away from sleep. I remembered every word of our conversation, but the bright greens of the forest faded and the flashing anger in his eyes whispered away. Even all that churning emotion seemed to level out into something bearable.
I got up and paced around, wondering what to do with myself. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait very long. Toryn came to collect me and led me back to Niamh’s rooms where she was armoring up, along with Alastair.
“Wasn’t sure you had it in you,” Niamh said with a grunt of approval. “Glad to be proven wrong.”
“Wonderful. Thanks.” I watched her strap a quiver of arrows to her back. That, along with the two daggers attached to her thigh and the sword slung around her waist, and she looked like she was striding into war. “Is something happening?”
“I’m coming with you.” She nodded to Toryn and Alastair. “So are they. Ideally, we’d take a bigger party, but a lot of our warriors need to stay behind. The castle needs fortifications.”
“Against what?”
Toryn grabbed my arm and twisted me around before dumping a heavy set of leathers into my hands. “You can change into those in Niamh’s bathing chamber. You know where it is.”
I frowned. Clearly, he didn’t want me asking too many questions. What was I going to do? Tell King Oberon details about this castle’s fortifications before I stabbed him to death? It wouldn’t even matter if I did. Just like the Mist King, the light fae were stuck where they were. They couldn’t get across that bridge. So, even if I told him all the shadow fae’s secrets, Oberon could do nothing to breach these castle’s walls.
After changing and running my hands through my tangled hair, I stood before the mirror to see the transformation. My eyes still looked haunted, and my cheeks were gaunt. But the thickness of the leather gave me a little more bulk, making me look and feel more like myself than I had since King Oberon had chosen me to become his bride.
Against a heavily armed opponent, these clothes would do little to protect me. Somehow, they gave me a hit of confidence and determination anyway.
A knock sounded on the door. I stiffened. Maybe if I stayed silent, no one would bother me.
“Surely you’re not still naked in there,” Niamh called out.
I sighed and crossed the room. When I opened the door, she strode inside and gave me a once-over. With an approving nod, she said, “Fits you well, though the sleeves and legs are a bit long.”
“Well, you’re taller than me.” Most fae were.
“True.” She knelt and fiddled with the trouser cuffs. A flicker of shock went through me. Fae never, ever knelt in front of mortals. They certainly didn’t lower themselves to the ground to fix their clothing. It was just not done.
“What’s the matter?” She rolled up one of the legs, tucking the material in place to make it stay there.
“This is not how the light fae act around humans.”
“The light fae are bastards,” she muttered, moving on to the other cuff. “The ones in Albyria, anyway. The ones who didn’t follow Oberon aren’t quite so cruel. Unfortunately, there aren’t many of them left.”
She stood and brushed some dust from my shoulders. “This one has been in my closet too long. Sorry it’s not in great shape.”
“I like it,” I said, unable to stop a slight smile from creeping up my lips. “It’s the only time I’ve ever worn armor.”
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