Page 11 of A Traitor Sister (Remnants of the Fallen Kingdom #2)

11

ASTRA

M arlak is stupefied in front of me, but before I ask him what exactly I found, the door downstairs opens, and Nelsin’s voice reaches us.

“Hello, lovebirds, we don’t want to disturb your sleep—or other activities.”

Marlak holds my shoulders and kisses my cheek. “I love you, you know? And… Do you mind if I tell you and Ferer at the same time? It has to do with the secrets Renel made me keep.”

“Tell Nelsin too. And Ziven.” Marlak has a slight frown, and I add, “You said you’d need help. More people to help you.”

He pauses, then nods. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

“Go first. I’m half undressed.” I look around the room, trying to remember where I left my leggings, when I catch Marlak’s intense stare directed at me. “What?”

He chuckles. “Let me enjoy this moment. And I’ll wait for you.”

My leggings are lying in a corner of the room, and I put them on quickly.

Marlak extends a hand to me, and I take it. He pulls it to his lips and kisses it. I descend the stairs behind him, his hand reaching back to keep holding mine.

Ziven sits at the kitchen table, drinking water, or at least something I hope is water, while the two fae stand apart from each other.

Nelsin glances at our interlocked hands and smiles. I realize this is the first time anyone sees us together. The first time we are together. Marlak pulls back a chair for me with his free hand, where I sit, and then he sits beside me, across from Ziven.

The Krastel prince looks at me and gives me a lazy smile. “Have you ever had fae wine?”

“Just a little.”

He scrunches his face. “The hangover is the same.”

Marlak scowls. “I don’t recall anyone asking.”

Ziven raises his glass of water. “I’ll gladly impart my wisdom freely and voluntarily. I’m that generous.”

I notice then that Ziven is wearing a choker necklace made of leather, with a familiar blue stone at its center. I point at it. “Is that your opus stone?”

He nods. “Ferer’s ingenuity. Now, if my connection to my magic is cut, I’ll have bigger problems. Or no problems, considering I’ll be dead.”

Ferer sits beside him. “We’re trying to see if it works.”

Ziven turns his glass upside down and holds it above the table. “It does.” The water is frozen inside it, but then the block of ice falls from the glass, ice shards going everywhere. “Oops.” Ziven moves his hand over the table, palm down. “I can evaporate it.” Indeed the ice turns to water, and then slowly evaporates.

Impressive magic. And he can heat water, unlike Marlak.

Nelsin takes his glass and refills it. “You’re supposed to drink the water, not play with it.”

“I’m testing the opus stone! It seems to be working great, maybe even better than at my wrist.” He places the glass on the table and points at Nelsin and Ferer. “Two brilliant fae.”

Beside me, Marlak rolls his eyes, and Ziven points at him. “I’m sure you’re brilliant too.”

Marlak turns to me. “Do you trust him?” His tone is playful, but I know that the question is true.

Ziven has no loyalties right now—which means someone could potentially bribe him. But I don’t think he wants money or even that he wants his birthright throne by any means. What I see in him is a survivor, someone striving to keep going despite all odds, and I admire that. And then, there’s a gut feeling telling me he’s trustworthy.

I smile. “I wouldn’t trust him with a bottle of wine, but other than that, he’s mostly decent.”

Ziven waves a hand in the air. “Decent with my friends, indecent with my lovers.”

“Nobody asked you.” Marlak’s voice cracks with annoyance. “Are you still drunk? Go lie down and recover. I have serious issues to discuss.”

“I’m not drunk.” Ziven stops with the silly act. “Just trying to diffuse the situation.” He points at Ferer and Nelsin. “Did you know these two won’t talk to each other?”

Ferer glares at him. “That is none of your business, and if you bring it up one more time, I’ll be the first to test what happens when your magic flow is cut.”

Ziven shrinks his shoulders, but doesn’t utter another peep.

Marlak gestures to Nelsin. “Sit. I have something important to discuss with you.”

The cat-eared fae takes a place at the head of the table.

Raising his dagger in the air, Marlak continues, “And I can finally reveal a secret I’ve been keeping for a long time.”

Nelsin’s top ears perk up and he rests his chin on his hand. “Oooh. I love secrets.”

Marlak glares at him. “Perhaps you and the human prince might want to go on a stroll. This is no joke.”

“No joke.” Nelsin shows the palms of his hands. “I’ll be silent.”

Marlak glances at me, a question in his eyes. I think he’s second-guessing his decision to trust Nelsin and Ziven, but I trust them, even if they’re playful. I give him an encouragement nod, or perhaps a nudging nod. He squeezes my hand, then turns to the others.

“I made deals with my brother, deals I regret now, deals keeping me silent.” He waves his dagger. “This artifact will help me break the deals for a short period of time, enough to talk about things he’s forbidden me to mention.”

He makes two slashing motions with the dagger in the air, forming an x as if cutting a hole in a thick fabric, then glances at everybody, and finally sets his eyes on me.

“My sister survived the accident.”

Gasps sound in the kitchen, and indeed I feel air whooshing out of my lungs. I’m surprised, but when I think back, it makes so much sense.

Marlak nods. “She’s been kept in a royal prison; the blue tower. If I make any move against my brother, he’ll kill her. I can’t even mention that I’m the true king or that I have the crown and could put it on my head if I wanted. For years, I’ve been searching for her prison, and searching for a way to get rid of my deals with Renel.”

So that’s what he’d been searching for; his sister, a girl imprisoned when she was barely a child.

Waving the dagger, he gives me a warm look. “Thanks to Astra, the sundering dagger has been activated, so that’s one step. I can’t even kill Renel, and he can’t kill me, or we’ll both die. If I’ve been cautious, that’s one reason. Now, back to Mirella.”

He glances at me again. “Mirella Isabel—most people don’t know her full first name—I need to find her and free her.” His eyes dim with sadness. “I wanted to trust Renel, trust that he was trying to do the right thing, but only a monster imprisons his own sister.”

Closing his eyes, Marlak takes a deep breath, then continues, “Astra saw what I’m certain is her location, and I’ll need to go there as soon as possible. I don’t want Renel to do anything against Lidiane or Astra’s sister. And oh, never doubt what he’s capable of.”

For the first time I feel I understand him, understand what he spent so long searching for, even understand why he attacked my carriage. He was looking for his sister. Shame prickles my skin and constricts my chest when I remember thinking he was a villain trying to take the Crystal Court throne for selfish reasons. It was never that. And even if he wants the throne, it’s fair. Still, there’s one thing I still need to understand.

“Marlak, I know it pains you, but now that you can speak, can you let us know who killed your family? We don’t need details.”

He swallows and stares at the tabletop. “It was my fire. I walked in on Renel strangling Mirella in the treasure room. Strangling her, and she was slightly younger than him, mind you. Thirteen. What kind of teenager strangles a child? I was so angry. So angry. I regret it. I don’t know what happened. There was fire. Screams. Our parents came to see what was happening… And I think the fire got out of control.”

Tears pool in his eyes. “Fire magic can do that. It’s my primary magic. Was, I guess. And there was a curse, a curse that the murderer of the king would be marked.” He points at his scars and takes a deep breath. “As you can see…”

His breathing is labored and shallow, and when I’m almost telling him that there’s no need to say anything else, he continues, “Then I remember being in my room, a healer applying some balm on my skin, and Renel walks in, saying he wouldn’t tell anyone what happened, asking me to agree to keep that secret. I thought he was trying to protect me, despite everything. I was in pain, I was delirious, and I’m not even sure about how much time had passed. Next thing I know, a servant is telling me to run, that I’m a king killer and likely to be executed if I stay in the castle. I didn’t understand. And then I see Renel again, offering to help me escape, claiming that everything was complicated. I took his offer, and he showed me a secret passage out of the castle. On the way out, he told me my sister survived. I was ecstatic, thrilled, relieved—until he said she was being kept in a high-security prison, and that I should never interfere with the dealings of the kingdom, or she would pay for that. I reached out and touched him, just a brief second, but long enough to get the name of the prison: the blue tower. Then I ran. Ran without direction, and then I started finding the royal treasure. It followed me. It’s when I realized that I was the true king, despite having killed my stepfather. You can’t become king if you kill the previous king; there’s old magic preventing it from happening, but I think it considers whether the murder is intentional or not, and it was never my intention. Still, guilt weighs on me. It was my fire. I vowed never to use it again—and haven’t used it since.”

I had guessed some bits and pieces of what happened, but could never have imagined that it had indeed been his own fire that killed his family. I didn’t even know he could wield fire, and then, the truth is that he no longer can.

Everyone is somber and astonished at the table. Even Ziven and Nelsin are downcast.

Marlak grimaces. “So I am the king of the Crystal Court. My stepfather had named me as his heir, and the fact that I can summon the relics proves it. But what matters now is rescuing Mirella. I know where she is, but I’ll need to plan this carefully. It’s why I’m telling you this. And so you know.”

He squeezes my hand again and turns to me. “You also need to understand why I traveled so much, why I… did things the way I did.”

I nod. I can see that this is also an apology, an explanation.

He turns back to everyone. “Astra saw a series of visions. On their own, they might be incomprehensible, and I understand you wouldn’t have thought much of them, but for me, they mean something. The raven is the old symbol of the Crystal Court. A heart, an eye, and a teardrop means that it has a spell not to be seen. And the location, it’s a hot lake, and it has to be in the Southern Hot Pools. I have been there before, many years ago, but didn’t find the prison—obviously. It was enchanted. But now, in Astra’s vision, I saw where it was. I can find it.”

Solemn silence hovers over the table, and we all stare at Marlak, until Nelsin scratches his fae ears. “So your plan is to travel south and rescue your sister? Not alone, I suppose.”

“It will be safer if I go on my own.” Marlak strokes his chin.

I hate that he has to leave, hate that we’ve been together for such a short period and have to be torn apart, but it’s true that I understand him. And I don’t suggest going with him because my magic is not strong enough, and when I do use it, I get attacked, which is definitely not something I want.

I still need to understand where he’s going. “Aren’t the Southern Hot Pools outside the Crystal Court territory?”

He nods. “It’s a royal prison, from the time when courts didn’t have physical boundaries like they do now, and that’s why you’ll find Crystal Court buildings all over the land. And to be fair, the Crystal Court is an amalgamation of smaller courts, so that’s another reason.”

Ferer contracts his brows. “Isn’t that by the Spider Court Territory?”

“A little south from there, yes,” Marlak says. “In the unclaimed Icy Lands.”

I recall my dream, the dream about the pit of death, and the fear we both felt in that moment. “Is it dangerous? Beyond a pit?”

Marlak shakes his head. “No. I’ve been in that area. I think your visions and dreams, they’re not always literal. That palace you dream about, for example, doesn’t exist.”

I suck in a gust of cold air, and mutter, “I’m not sure of that. But if you’re saying the Blue Tower is not dangerous and you’ve been in that area before, I suppose you’re right.”

“In your vision, there was a bridge to it, across a hot lake. The bridge gate has a heart, an eye, and a teardrop.” Marlak really remembers minute details from my vision.

Ziven perks up, even more interested in the conversation for some reason.

I recall the lake from my vision. “You could freeze the water or fly above it, right?”

Marlak presses his lips together. “There could be some magic preventing freezing the water or crossing above it using air magic. I might have to take the bridge.”

Ziven raises a hand, as if he were in a class. “Am I allowed to ask a question?”

“Ask away,” Marlak says. “I’ve already told you what I couldn’t tell you, and now, even when the magic of the dagger fades, we can still discuss how to reach that tower.”

“Right.” Ziven leans forward on the table. “This is all based on what Astra saw in Renel’s mind, right? How can you be sure that’s where the princess is? He could be thinking about something else, like reminiscing about a cool tavern or something. Fine, a tavern would not be hidden like that. Anyway, Astra was trying to find where Renel was keeping you. What makes you so sure that’s where your sister is?”

Marlak bites his lip. “I just feel it. When you reach out for information in someone’s mind, sometimes it gives you something else, but it has a meaning. My sister’s location has been on my mind since the day I ran away from the castle. Why wouldn’t Astra find that when thinking about me? It makes sense.”

“You need to trust the way magic works,” Ferer adds. “It’s not always clear cut and straightforward.”

“Fair.” Ziven nods. “Now, that symbol you mentioned, the heart with an eye and a drop, I know what it means. It’s not a teardrop, but a drop of blood. Human kingdoms also use it. When you have that symbol, only someone with a king’s blood can do something. If it’s a lock or a door, for example, only a king or queen or their descendants can open it or pass through. As far as I know, any monarch’s blood will do. I know it because one of the old servants told me that, told me that this would be one of the reasons King Leonius would keep me alive; if he ever needed something opened, or needed to activate some magical object or whatever, I would be able to do it, not him. So it was one reason not to kill me.”

Marlak half smirks. “That makes things easier, then, since I’m the true king.”

One thing doesn’t make sense. “But how did Renel get there?”

“He was with Mirella,” Marlak says. “She’s the king’s daughter.”

Ziven waves a finger in the air. “Back to my point. As far as I know, it doesn’t work like that. A nominated king can’t open that kind of lock. It’s old magic, either fae or Tiurian.”

“Tiurians had no royalty,” I say.

“Maybe.” Ziven shrugs. “But the whole point is to protect a monarch’s family. Let’s say someone coerces the king to nominate them. The magic still wouldn’t work.”

Marlak rolls his eyes. “Then what happens to kingdoms where kings die and are replaced, or new kingdoms? The magic will never work?”

“It will. For their children, if their father is not a usurper, like my uncle. You’re the true king, right? Your children will be able to open whatever king’s blood magical lock they need, even though you can’t.”

Marlak narrows his eyes. “I think you’re making that up.”

Ziven raises his hands, showing his palms. “I’m not. But hey, maybe someone made that up and told me that, so I would be a little more optimistic about my survival chances. As you can see, eventually King Leonius decided he’ll never need me to open anything.”

“I think Ziven has a point,” Ferer says. “It makes sense that old magic would protect families. But we could research and double check.”

Marlak taps his fingers on the table. “There’s no time to research. I’ll leave right away to get Mirella, and then if Renel threatens Lidiane or Tarlia, I can confront him.” He looks at us all. “Meanwhile, find a way to tell them to escape. Once I have my sister, and once the girls are out of the castle, the way is clear for me. But I need to plan this trip and go there soon, before Renel realizes I’ve found my sister’s location.”

I want to tell him that if he’s waited years for this, he could wait one more day, but if I knew where my family was, and if I had the means to rescue them, I wouldn’t want to wait even an hour.

“We’ll do our part.” Ferer is thoughtful. “You could take a boat south, from Krastel.”

Marlak shakes his head. “I’ll go to the Queen’s River, then fly over the ocean until the shores of the Spider Court, then walk south.”

Ziven raises an eyebrow. “You can fly?”

“Yes,” Marlak says between gritted teeth.

Ferer nods. “Too cold to fly closer, and no boats will get that far south. But the Spider Court keeps track of intruders, and then there are ice golems in the Icy Lands.”

“They target fae magic,” Marlak says, “and for some reason, can’t sense me.”

“Ha! They look for pointy ears!” Nelsin says.

“Something like that.” Marlak runs a finger over his own round ears.

I’m trying to recap all that was said. “So that’s it? The danger is getting there? Once there, you’ll just rescue your sister?”

“There could be traps and other obstacles, but I think I can deal with them.” He looks at the others. “What I need is help in preparing a place for my sister when she comes.”

That sounds strange. “Can’t it be our house?” I don’t say the island house because I’m still not sure how much he wants Ziven to know, even though at this point he told him half his life story.

Marlak swallows. “Mirella… was raised differently. She would want something more… refined.”

His words hurt for some reason, as if he’s implying our house isn’t good enough for his sister, even if it’s good enough for me. The only reason I don’t let go of his hand is that I don’t want him to think I’m making a big deal about it.

Ziven snorts. “She’s coming from a prison! Please tell me you’re kidding. You can’t seriously suggest your sister deserves a better dwelling than your freaking wife.”

Wow, he said the words I couldn’t say.

Marlak has murder in his eyes. “I don’t mean better . I mean refined. I have a fancier hideout. And when I brought Astra, I wasn’t worried about pleasing her.”

“Yes, you were,” Nelsin smirks. “You wanted servants and a luxurious decoration, and were terrified that she’d hate that house, but we told you that what mattered was that it was clean, comfortable, and safe. Eventually you agreed because you thought it was the safest place for her. Doesn’t your sister need to be safe?”

“She has strong magic.”

I let go of his hand. Asshole. As if I didn’t have magic.

Marlak turns to me and pulls my hand. “Astra, you aren’t jealous of my sister, are you?”

“No!” The thought is disgusting and ridiculous. Then I smirk. “It’s just that I can see that she’s your priority.”

He kisses my hand. “ You ’re my priority. You’re everything to me.” His eyes are soft, beseeching. “But my sister is also important. She was raised by a king, unlike me and my brother. My mother was a tavern maid. My father was the king’s guardian. I wasn’t raised as a prince, not until much later, when my mother married my stepfather. I’m different. You weren’t raised as a princess either. I just want to make sure Mirella feels at ease, that’s all. It’s not about being better. What’s better than being among nature and mountains and a river? What’s better than freedom? I love our house. But I don’t know if Mirella would love it.”

I sigh, and he kisses my cheek, then says, “I love you, Astra, have always loved you.” He pulls me against his chest and I close my eyes.

Young love is so silly, so fragile. And yet it’s true that our love is young like a sprout just coming out of the soil, when a heavy gust of wind can uproot it.

Nelsin’s voice interrupts us. “Would you like us to leave, so you can make love on the table?”

Marlak huffs. “Don’t be crass.”

Nelsin points at himself. “Me? Since when love is crass?”

Ziven clicks his tongue. “Leave him. He owes Astra an explanation because it did sound as if his sister was more important than her.”

Marlak glares at him. “Do you value your life?”

“A lot, actually.” Ziven smiles. “I tend to hold on to it with utter stubbornness and tenacity, or I would have been gone a long time ago.”

“Then why would you exasperate me?” Marlak’s voice is thunderous. “You know you’re no match for my magic, human.”

“Hey, I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking.” Ziven raises his hands. “You should be thankful, if anything.”

“You’re saying what you’re thinking.”

Ziven points at me. “Ask her.”

Marlak turns to me, his expression suddenly changed into concern. I smile. “He’s just trying to help.”

Ferer takes a deep breath. “So, can you bring Mirella to your temporary hideout?”

Marlak stares at him for a moment. “I guess so. For now.”

“When do you plan to leave?” Nelsin asks.

“Right away.” He turns to me. “I’m so sorry. But I’ll be back. I promise.”

This time I’m the one who squeezes his hand. “I understand. If it was me, I’d also rush to rescue my sister.”

He narrows his eyes. “I’m not sure I agree.”

Oh, he means Tarlia. “It’s different. Tarlia’s still safe.”

“Until how long?”

“We’ll try to get them out,” Nelsin says.

Marlak nods. “Please. One less thing for me to worry about.”

He runs a finger over my face. “We’ll find a way to hide your magic, Astra.” It’s as if he can understand my thoughts. “And I want you to develop it, study it, while I’m gone. The stronger you are, the better protected you’ll be.” He smiles. “I’ve always told you that.”

I smile back.

Ziven is resting his face on the back of his hand. “You’re forgetting to ask something.”

Marlak turns to him and frowns. “I think it’s all clear. I was thinking I’d have a lot more trouble deciphering the visions, but they’re quite straightforward.”

“Yes.” Ziven dips his chin and smirks. “And you need to ask me something.”

“I think you still need to rest. Drained magic, right? It’s what happens when you use trinkets.”

“Ooooh.” Ziven touches his ringless fingers. “Look who has no trinkets whatsoever.”

Marlak raises a fist. “These are different. I still have my own magic.”

The smirk hasn’t faded from Ziven’s lips. “Doesn’t change the fact that you still need to ask me something.”

“You know what? You’re right. What are you still doing here?”

“Wroooong.” Ziven’s singsong voice echoes through the kitchen.

“Marlak,” Ferer says. “The human is annoying but he brings up a valid point.”

“What valid point?” Marlak sounds absolutely exasperated.

“The blood magic. You don’t have a king’s blood.” Ferer pauses, glances at Ziven, then says, “He does.”

“And?”

Shit. They’re right. Ziven needs to go with Marlak. The Krastel prince seems to be willing to do that, if he’s the one suggesting Marlak should ask him something.

I run a hand over Marlak’s arm, trying to calm him down, and say, “I think Ziven’s offering to go with you.”

Marlak blinks.

Ziven leans back. “I want him to ask me to go with him.”

I narrow my eyes for a brief moment, then smile at Ziven, hoping he gets the hint. “Just tell him you’re eager to help.”

Ziven shrugs. “If he asks, I might.”

Great. Now he managed to annoy even me. “Why are you being an asshole?”

“Me?” Ziven laughs. “Right. I’m the asshole.”

Marlak shakes his head. “He’ll be a liability with his weak magic.”

I guess I have to smooth things out. “But if only humans can step into the Icy Lands and not be targeted by golems, he’s the only one who can go with you. And if he’s right that the magic lock or whatever will only open to someone whose king’s blood has been inherited, if you don’t bring him with you, your journey will be for nothing.”

Marlak doesn’t look convinced. “Two ifs. Makes it iffy.”

“Just ask,” I whisper.

My husband takes the deepest breath I’ve ever seen him taking, then gets up and stands by Ziven. “Oh, mighty human prince, the true Krastel heir, will you give me the honor to accompany me on my journey to rescue my sister from the Blue Tower?”

Ziven gets up, all traces of mockery gone from his face, and extends a hand. “It will be my honor, fae king.”

Marlak nods and shakes his hand.

I’m glad he’s not going to travel alone, and I’m starting to think they won’t strangle each other on the way, but I’m still feeling a lot of unease. The memories from the dream about the pit of death haven’t left me, and with them, a bitter taste in my mouth and a hollow feeling in my stomach. I don’t know if I can bear losing my husband. And yet I understand he has to go, and I need to trust his magic.

Marlak turns to me, regret and sorrow marring his eyes. I get up, stand by him, and say, “I can’t wait to meet Mirella. I’m sure she’s lovely.”

He pulls me in for a hug. “I’ll be back soon. You’ll be with Nelsin and Ferer. Work on your magic.”

“I will. Even if I hate it when you leave. I hated it last time you left.”

“You did?” He has a soft chuckle. “I thought you didn’t like me yet.”

“I thought the same thing.” I laugh. “I was wrong, of course.”

Ferer gets up. “What are the supplies you need? Portable food, I suppose. Weapons. Anything else? Are you taking your suitcase?”

Marlak shakes his head. “Too risky. I’ll need duffel bags. See what Ziven needs. I just need some time with Astra.”

“Private time?” Nelsin raises an eyebrow.

“Not that private,” Marlak says. “Ten minutes.”

Nelsin shrugs. “That can be enough.”

Marlak scoffs, then pulls me upstairs to the room where we slept and stands in front of me, holding my face. “Do you believe me when I say I hate to leave you?”

“Of course I do.”

“And that Mirella is not more important than you?”

“Love has no hierarchy, Marlak. I like that you love your family. And your friends.”

“You are my family. And… do you want to have children one day? I know we should have discussed it earlier, but?—”

I don’t know why he’s bringing up these big questions, but they cause a chill to run down my spine. “You’re scaring me.”

He blinks. “You’re afraid of having kids?”

I sigh. “You’re talking as if you fear not coming back, as if you won’t have time to ask these questions.”

“How can I be thinking I won’t have time, if I’m asking you about kids? We haven’t made one yet. You’re taking something, aren’t you? To prevent?—”

“Yes. And yes, we’ll have a family, but focus on your journey now. And I swear, I’ll spend all my time working on my magic. I’ll also read the books you left me. And when you come back, we’ll plan what’s next.”

He pulls me in and kisses me. It’s a slow, soft, kiss. It’s a long kiss, swallowing up an eternity. It’s a promise, a vow, but most of all, a goodbye. A painful goodbye.

The look he gives me when we part is so soft. “You made a promise this morning, and I can’t wait to see it fulfilled.”

I’m not sure what he means. “What promise?”

He runs his thumb over my lower lips. “It involved this.” He presses his finger, then points downwards. “And this.”

“Crass. Asshole.”

He hugs me tight and kisses my cheek. “I’m starting to think it’s an endearment.”

“Maybe it is.”

I laugh even if part of me wants to desperately cry in anguish.