Page 19 of A Flame of the Phoenix (An Heir Comes to Rise #6)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Tauria

T auria hadn’t considered the means of travel when Mordecai suggested she go with him to Valgard. It made sense he would fly with her, but her skin still crawled even now her feet were on the ground and she’d gained some distance.

At least she hadn’t come alone, and she was relieved when Mordecai even suggested she bring Edith along with her so she’d feel more at ease with familiar company. The dark fae had flown herself, slower than Mordecai could travel.

She had barely been able to take in the view of Valgard as dark sea turned to land beneath them, but what she did observe was how gloomy and barren these lands were. Unnaturally so. It wasn’t just in sight—Tauria felt it within herself. Sinking down, when her palm rested to the chilled, dry land, she couldn’t reach for any roots of life.

“It wasn’t always like this,” Mordecai said at her clear observations.

He’d landed them atop a parched hill, where she could see a stone city close by. It reminded her of Olmstone, but where those lands had a breath of warmth and bright beauty, Valgard was overcast with darkness, like a curse.

“When did it change?” she asked, following him the rest of the way.

“During the Dark Age. People have since whispered that because of my actions, the Gods cursed my lands to this infertility.”

“How do you feed your people?”

“We still have fresh water supply, and they have learned to grow vegetables and feed for the livestock in domes of glass. There are several with your talent who inspire nature, and many others with abilities that help.”

“My talent… you forced florakinetics here from Fenstead?”

“My kind can be born with abilities too, though far rarer than the fae. But what might shock you is that there are ordinary fae who have lived generations here too, and humans.”

It didn’t answer her question, but it was a curious enlightenment. Tauria had long believed only the ruthless dark fae occupied this island. She didn’t know what it meant to discover that was not the truth.

She realized why Mordecai hadn’t flown them right to his castle. He’d wanted to show her the lands and begin to teach her more, perhaps sway her mind and her heart from what it had been taught all her life on the mainland. Tauria wasn’t going to be so easily convinced. She looked upon the sad soils of Valgard and stood beside the culprit of its downfall.

Edith followed a few steps behind them as they passed through his city walls. Every guard in black bowed their heads to Mordecai, but he paid them no attention. He walked casually but with a dominant presence, hands clasped behind his back and silently staring toward his black castle.

“What business is it you have here if Marvellas is on the mainland?” Tauria tried.

“You are familiar with the running of a kingdom. A ruler can only leave it in the hands of their council for so long. Otherwise we risk breeding usurpers.”

Tauria felt foolish for asking when she knew this, but in her defense, she didn’t know Valgard was a kingdom that still had political structure.

“Is your heir here?” she asked.

“No.”

She was getting no further with her burning curiosity about his child, but Tauria had come here with the hope to discover more about Mordecai and his heir somehow.

“If you are not wed, won’t your council challenge the legitimacy of them?”

“I would kill anyone who tried. They know my succession, and while it may be hard for you to believe, I have a select few who are very loyal to me and will make sure that if anything were to happen to me, my heir would take their rightful place.”

So why are they not here?

Tauria observed his subjects as they continued leisurely through the winding path toward the castle. The buildings were as barren as the land, but not from poverty. Everything just seemed bathed in a dreary hue as if it had long forgotten the kiss of the bright sunlight.

People watched them go by with stunned stares and wary retreats. Though she couldn’t be sure if it was out of fear of Mordecai or uncertainty about her. Would they even know who she was?

She saw several of the glass dome structures Mordecai had mentioned peeking over the stone buildings, and spying the first signs of any vibrancy lit her chest. Oh, how she loved the color green. Tauria had to appreciate that they’d learned how to grow plants and crops when their land itself refused.

“Welcome to my home, Tauria Stagknight,” Mordecai announced as the tall, black wood doors of his castle were opened as they approached.

Despite all the darkness, Tauria found herself stunned by the beauty of his palace. Within was monochrome, but the black-and-white marble floors and pillars were crafted with meticulous artistry. She never thought she’d be walking halls lined with black banners adorning the fanged serpent of the ages-long enemy kingdom of her continent. Though there was a part of her that balked at the sight, the animal stitched into fabric was as proud as any of those representing the kingdoms of Ungardia.

“Do you know why our emblem is a serpent?” he asked, guiding her through his halls.

Tauria had read about it once.

“Your father was among the candidates who put themselves forward to be the first King of Valgard. He was the only dark fae and had no one backing his rule. Though it was decided a trial would prove the one fit to rule, not a vote of popularity. A week before the trial, Vakarys Vesaria was bitten by a serpent, and the venom almost claimed his life. A healer found him on the brink of death. Your mother, I believe. On the night of the feast before the trial, Vakarys, still recovering, attended with the serpent that had bitten him wrapped around his shoulders as if they’d become companions. People would come to believe that was his true test of worthiness, for at that feast, unbeknown to anyone, Vakarys had poised the wine of all his competitors with the same venom from the serpent. Even with healers, none of them survived.”

Mordecai watched her with surprise. “Very good. Now, would you call him cunning, or a cheat?”

Tauria thought about the story again. “One might say neither. To have survived a venom no one else did…perhaps it was a favor of the Gods. Who are we, mere mortals of their creation, to question their judgment?”

“Lucky then,” Mordecai supplied.

“Fated,” Tauria considered.

“So what does that say about me—his son who would go on to lead the darkest age the land has ever seen?”

“I think it’s not for us to question the why of fate. We are guided by infinite threads we couldn’t begin to fathom. Without evil, there is no good. Without suffering, there is no compassion.”

Mordecai led for a long stretch of silence. Tauria absorbed more of the decor that was as grand as any castle, but the elegance of the black and white was luring her into a sense of calm.

“I find your perceptions fascinating,” he said at last, stopping outside a set of double doors with two guards posted outside. “I have something I must do, but I think you’ll find yourself occupied here. Perhaps you’ll discover more knowledge you can share your thoughts about over supper.”

Tauria knew then he’d escorted her to his castle library, and her excitement surged. Mordecai must have read it on her face, as he almost yielded a smile.

“Do not wander from here. I will send for you later,” he said firmly, not lingering for a moment after.

That left her alone with Edith, and the dark fae matched Tauria’s slowly spreading smile before they entered the library.

True to the dark theme of the palace, the wood of the shelving and the double spiral staircases to the second level were coated in black. The hall was magnificent. The faint clack of Tauria’s shoes was all that echoed as she moved slowly to take in the place.

“Is there anything I can guide you toward?” Edith asked.

Tauria’s eyes fell to her. “You’ve been here before?”

“Oh yes. I spent some of my early youth in these halls before I begged to go to Fenstead.”

Edith had mentioned her father was very powerful. A lord, perhaps? One that had no desire to raise a child and had let her all but raise herself.

“Honestly, I’m trying to get to know Mordecai more. He’s very busy, often leaving me alone, and I would like to take some of that burden to school me about himself and this kingdom off his shoulders.”

Edith hummed, glancing at nothing in particular as she considered where to direct Tauria for such knowledge.

“There are many boring books on the lands of Ungardia, and perhaps they’ll give more detail about Valgard itself, but the true knowledge about Mordecai and his past is likely to be under close guard in his locked study.”

Tauria’s hope deflated. She might be able to catch him inside and glimpse his personal study, but being left alone to scour his books and papers would be near impossible.

“I might still have a friend here who is one of his bookkeepers. Only a very select few scholars have a key just to tend to his books. They would perish without proper care.”

Edith was proving to be far more useful than simply tending to her needs. “You would really help me?”

“I think the high lord would appreciate your initiative!” She beamed. Tauria didn’t know why it made her wary. Edith had been nothing but innocent and kind, but this answer to her problem came easier than Tauria was used to, and that had her searching for a trap.

“He wouldn’t like me trespassing on his personal space,” Tauria said skeptically.

Edith waved her off. “I’ll bring the relevant books to you. Then they’ll be returned. He’ll only know his scholars were within the study.”

Tauria nodded, uttering her thanks. For now, all she had were endless tomes of knowledge she already knew, but it would do no harm to check while she was stuck here anyway.

Hours later, and she was beginning to think Mordecai had forgotten about bringing her here. She slumped into a deep black velvet chaise littered with open books. Edith sat on the edge, engrossed in her own book.

She watched the dark fae and didn’t expect to grow a protective attachment to her, much like how she’d grown a bond to Opal, Tarly’s younger sister, in Olmstone. Though Edith was of an age to look out for herself, Tauria knew that wasn’t enough.

“No matter what happens, I hope you’ll stay by my side,” Tauria blurted.

Edith blinked away the fatigue of staring too long at the text. “You’re very kind.”

That told Tauria the dark fae wasn’t used to being seen or receiving any kindness.

“The high lord has called you for supper, Your Highness,” a fae interrupted.

Tauria’s stomach twisted with hunger. It was about time.

“I’ll meet you later,” Edith said as she stood. Their secret to retrieve the books in Mordecai’s study hung in that farewell.

Tauria wouldn’t hold her breath in case Edith couldn’t convince her friend to slip the books from his collection. She would find another way, for what would he have to hide that he needed to keep so closely guarded?

Dining with Mordecai would always be an awkwardly unpleasant experience. They often ate in silence, but his presence always made her skin crawl as if she were in the company of a wraith, not a full person.

She slipped glances at him when he was occupied in his meal. Everything he ate was normal. The fact he was a resurrected being unsettled her. As if he should burn in sunlight or only eat raw meat, or as if he were hiding some ugly form beneath his temporary flesh.

Tauria swallowed, upsetting her stomach with her own outlandish thoughts.

“Are you not well?” Mordecai asked, pinning her with soulless onyx eyes.

“It seems I’ve taken a turn,” she confessed.

Tauria reached for her goblet clumsily at the same time as a servant leaned in to top up Mordecai’s, causing it to topple. She gasped, snatching her hand back when the thick crimson liquid flooded over the table and some of the food.

Her hand clamped over her mouth, and she stood from the table.

“You are aware the dark fae drink human blood. The Transitioned need it survive,” he said, so nonchalant despite her horror.

“And what are you?” she snapped.

“Deathless.”

A dark coil lanced her spine. She didn’t know what that meant—that he couldn’t be killed?

“Did you want to be brought back?” Tauria dared to ask.

Mordecai considered her question, leaning back in his chair while the servant tried frantically to clean the blood. It was futile. Tauria noticed his round human ears then.

“Had I the choice, I think I would have said yes. My time ended before my mission was achieved. However, had I known the condition would be slavery to a powerful Goddess, I might have declined.”

“Then why do you do her bidding? What does she have over you?”

Mordecai’s eyes darkened with warning. He wouldn’t divulge such an answer to her, but Tauria was intrigued more than ever. He called himself a slave to Marvellas and didn’t hide his resentment.

The high lord moved so suddenly she lunged back, her chair screeching across the floor, but it wasn’t her he was reaching for.

Tauria’s scream was muffled by her hand as she watched Mordecai grab the human and sink his teeth into his neck. The human made a few choking sounds, their blown eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Stop!” Tauria yelled, attempting to spare the innocent life, but it was too late.

Mordecai pulled back with a groan, letting the body fall limp. The human’s head turned her way, the terror of his final moments screaming at her through his glass eyes.

“You said yourself you didn’t have to kill to feed!” she cried.

Mordecai plucked a cloth from the table, wiping the corners of his mouth before dropping it with careless disrespect onto the body. He stalked to her with a certain wildness in his eyes. A high from the amount of blood he’d consumed.

When he was close enough, Tauria seethed at him so powerfully she knew he could feel it. Regardless, his fingers grazed her chin, and he looked at her with a passionate desire.

To her complete abhorrence, Mordecai leaned down as if to kiss her, and Tauria’s impulse took over. The resounding hard slap of her palm connecting with his face pounded the beat in her chest. Despite her throbbing hand, his face barely moved an inch from the impact.

A few beats of silence followed. As deadly as those before war.

Mordecai gripped her throat with the quickness and precision of a serpent strike. It brought their faces so close she would have retched at the scent of blood in his breath, were she not struggling to inhale her own. He was so fast, so much more powerful, with fresh human blood in his system.

His entire army would be. In even numbers on a battlefield, even with more magick on their side the fae didn’t stand a chance. They’d always known this, but being in the clutches of that reality struck the daunting odds in her with renewed hopelessness.

“I’m looking forward to the day you lose your memories and indulge with me,” he said cruelly.

Mordecai let her go just as her consciousness threatened to fall into darkness. She fell without the capacity to catch herself, hitting the black marble floor hard.

She couldn’t hear him leave with the pounding of her pulse in her ears, but her blurry vision watched his footsteps in relief.

Tauria peeled herself off the ground on shaky elbows before hands assisted her to stand. She didn’t know the dark fae guard and was surprised he hadn’t just observed her suffering.

“Can I escort you somewhere?” he asked.

Tauria wondered if Mordecai would reprimand the guard’s kindness toward her, but she was glad to see it. Not all dark fae were cold and cruel. Tauria couldn’t let their malicious high lord and a one-sided history make her resent an entire species.

“Thank you, but I’ll find my way.”

With a smile of gratitude to him, Tauria breathed steadily as she left the dining hall. She didn’t know where she was going, having not been told where she would be sleeping for the night.

Tauria caught herself against the wall with the wave of nausea that roiled in her stomach, because what if Mordecai planned for her to sleep with him ?

She wouldn’t let that happen.

“There you are!”

Edith finding her was a relief. The dark fae wore a cloak, and she looked around conspiratorially before flashing a bundle of books tucked under her arm.

Tauria’s eyes lit up. She’d actually acquired them.

Edith giggled, hooking Tauria’s arm and guiding her along the halls with memorized ease.

They came to the servants’ quarters, where Tauria assumed Edith was staying. The dark fae pulled them into a small, humble room with a lit fireplace and twin cots.

“I’m not sure if they’ll have what you’re looking for, but this was all I could find,” she said, holding out the books.

Tauria beamed. “This is perfect. You’re amazing.”

Edith smiled, sitting on one of the cots.

Craving the warmth, Tauria took the bedding off the second cot and sat by the fire, quickly losing herself to books that felt deliciously forbidden. Her adrenaline pumped with every page turned, as though the next could unveil the darkest secret of the high lord for them to end him.

When Tauria flipped to the next page, her fingers traced down the jagged strokes drawn on the page. “He was a Stormcaster,” she muttered out loud.

“That ability hasn’t been around in centuries,” Edith said, now lying on her stomach watching Tauria read.

“I’ve never heard of it. The power of lightning is…fascinating.” And absolutely lethal. “He would have used it by now, wouldn’t he? I don’t think the ability came back to him when he was brought back to life.”

“I bet that contributes to his resentment about being alive.”

Tauria hummed her agreement, continuing her reading. Most of it was dull and unhelpful, until Tauria came across Mordecai’s family tree. It wasn’t long, and not up-to-date enough to reveal the name of his heir or a potential lover.

“He had a sister, and she was a Nightwalker,” Tauria discovered.

Her finger traced down the vine. Mordecai’s parents had died naturally. His sister had died in childbirth with her third pregnancy. Shortly after, Mordecai had started his movement of the Dark Age. He’d lost most of his nieces and nephews during it except one—a fae male who’d mated with someone from the mainland, leaving behind their claim to Valgard once Mordecai was defeated, and ending the reign of the Vesarias. Tauria kept following until more recent times, and the family name switched through several marriages. The documentation of the diluted Vesaria bloodline had stopped around five hundred years ago, with the last being a daughter by a very different family name.

She drew a shallow gasp.

“What is it?” Edith asked.

Tauria couldn’t stop staring at the familiar name, wondering if it were just a coincidence and someone else might have the same one. Because it was Nik’s mother who came to mind. Leia Caeldagh…who would later meet the King of High Farrow, Orlon Silvergriff: her mate.