Page 17 of A Traitor Sister (Remnants of the Fallen Kingdom #2)

17

MARLAK

T he prince hasn’t complained yet, even though we’ve been climbing hills for hours to get to the plateau where the tower is located. The images are so clear in my mind; both Astra’s vision and my own memory of when I came here, still so young and hopeful, thinking it would be easy to find my sister.

I fear I might still be that person, fear it won’t be as easy as simply finding the place, and yet I’m here, rushing to Mirella’s rescue—because it’s what I wanted to do the moment I learned she had been taken prisoner. The moment I learned she survived.

This is a rocky area with some dangerous hot pools, so every step we take needs to be careful. The blue tower is in the middle of a basin, hard to be missed. And yet I can’t believe I missed it so many years ago.

The human prince has been following me, voicing no complaints, and keeping a steady rhythm. So far, not as much of a hurdle as I expected. I turn to check if he’s behind me, and he gives me a tight-lipped smile.

Then I crouch, pain consuming my entire body.

Something’s wrong, wrong, wrong. So wrong that I can feel it grabbing my heart and shredding it into thousands of pieces. The ground around me turns to ice, my magic materializing the cold dread within me.

“Marlak, what’s wrong?” The prince manages to look serious, but I can’t answer.

My mind is spinning. Someone I love is in danger. Astra must be in danger. I can feel it.

“Marlak.” Ziven crouches in front of me. “Let me help you.”

“Astra,” I mutter. “Something’s happening.”

“We can hurry and come back. We can save her.”

It’s my worst fear; being far from her, unable to do anything. “Too late.”

“Astra’s strong,” Ziven says. “And powerful. You need to trust that she’ll survive. Meanwhile, we can go back.”

I don’t know if I can reach her. It’s just so much darkness, like a horde of monsters attacking me, but it’s obviously not me, and even if I create walls and walls of ice, they won’t save her.

TARLIA

T his berry is the bitterest thing I’ve ever tasted. Renel stares at me with panic in his eyes, while I wonder if I have poison in my mouth.

I spit it. “Is it safe or not?”

“It’s bitter. You need to peel it.” He takes one and removes the pink skin, revealing a dark red, semi-translucid, tiny interior. He then extends his arm and hands it to me. “Like this; it tastes much better.”

“Thanks.” I try it. A little sour, but with some mild sweetness. I glance at the bowl with dozens and dozens of those berries and can’t imagine peeling them all, can’t even imagine that anyone would lie just so other people wouldn’t eat it. “It’s nice.”

“Glad you like it.” Renel takes three more, peels them, and passes them to me.

I admire the deftness in his fingers and can’t help but imagine what else they can do. Why do I have to be like that?

I need to make conversation, so I try to say something nice. “I wish I could see these hills where these sleepberries grow.”

He sighs. “I haven’t been there in years.”

There’s a blanket of sadness around him, enveloping him in a strange, cozy discomfort he can’t escape. Or maybe it’s my impression. Not that I care that he’s sad, considering all he’s done to Astra, Marlak, and the lower fae.

Renel gives me a clearly forced smile. “Do you know the difference between ignorance and apathy?”

Bizarre question. “I guess?—”

“I don’t know and I don’t care.” He stares at me, as if expecting something.

“Right.” I nod.

He narrows his eyes. “Do you know what one tray told the other?”

“I can’t imagine.”

“Dinner’s on me.”

I’m wondering if this is some secret fae code talk, when it finally hits me.

They’re jokes! Terrible ones.

Still, there’s no greater offense than not laughing at someone’s joke—except that it’s too late now.

“Oh! I’m so slow!” I giggle, hoping some self-deprecation will salvage this. “They’re jokes. You know, you figure out who’s an idiot by noticing who’s too slow to laugh.”

He’s serious, his posture stiff, except for a hand running through his hair. One of the combs pulling it back falls on the table. “You can also identify an idiot by the pathetic jokes they tell. I… was trying to…” He closes his eyes.

I wave a hand. “Making conversation can be strange, especially when we don’t know each other.” To be fair, talking to him feels like trying to extract juice from a stone.

“Yes. Of course.” Renel looks like a spring ready to snap. “I… have a gift for you.” He takes a sword in a scabbard from the chair beside him and passes it to me. “My… Marlak gave it to you, and I believe it should be yours.”

I pull part of the hilt and realize it’s some kind of fae treasure, just based on the quality of the gems and the craftsmanship. Shit. I know this hilt.

This sword looks just like Downshadow—except that it has clear quartz instead of rubies. Or are these beacon stones? I notice my fascination and try to tone it down, considering that Astra would have seen this sword before.

I decide to ask a question I’m curious about.

“Isn’t this part of the Crystal Court treasure? Was Marlak allowed to gift it to me?”

“It’s yours now. That’s what matters.”

I put the sword back in its scabbard and smile.

Renel then asks, “Do you know why he gave you that?”

All I can imagine is that it was a hint, hoping she’d also be interested in his other sword .

I swallow my chuckle and focus on peeling a berry. “You’ll have to ask him.” I’m glad I manage to erase all the bite from my voice.

Renel leans back and strokes his chin, his bracelets clinking. “I cannot. He escaped last night.” His eyes are set on me as he says that, I assume to check my reaction.

“Truly?”

The news hit me like a storm wind. Marlak… escaped. Was Astra that fast? Something else hits me; Renel is not threatening me. It means that he didn’t bring Astra here as some kind of bait for his brother, but rather because he wants something from her, just like she told me.

The fact that Marlak’s free means I could walk away if I wanted to return to Ziven. Ziven, who pushed me away. I’m spinning, with no sense of direction, and yet I’m sitting by a king—a king with a prize on his head, a prize who would grant me the freedom I desperately need.

I notice then that Renel’s still watching me, and ask the first question that crosses my mind. “Is it that easy to escape your prisons?”

“It shouldn’t be, but he had help from giants.”

This story is getting quite bizarre. “Can they cross the Charmed River?”

“He was in the Shadow Lands.” Renel’s stare is still curious. “Did you ever hear anything about giants?”

“We didn’t talk much.” I notice that I have a berry in my fingers and go back to trying to peel it.

He tilts his head, and then asks in a soft voice, “Astra, did he hurt you?”

Oddly, the name hurts, the idea that I’m an impostor’s impostor. I like Astra, but I don’t want to walk in her shoes, don’t want to keep pretending to be someone I’m not. I tap on the table. “Not really, but I have a request.”

He raises his eyebrows, visibly surprised.

“It’s something simple,” I say, before he protests. “And it’s a favor, so it’s up to you. I want to start anew, forget my past, so I want a new name. Something different. Can you choose a nickname for me? Another way to call me?”

He shoots me a panicked look. “What if you don’t like it?”

“If it’s horrible, we can try to come up with something else. Come on. There’s no right or wrong.”

He stares at me, focusing, thinking, actually taking the question seriously. Then again, he seems to take everything seriously. After a few seconds, he says, “Tar.”

My breath leaves my chest and I drop the berry I was holding. “What?”

He runs his hands over his bracelets. “I can think of something else.”

“Where did you get that from?”

“Star. Astra, star, then for some reason I thought Star was too obvious, and then I decided to leave it just Tar .”

I’m shaking from head to toe.

Renel closes his eyes. “I didn’t mean like pine tar. I wouldn’t call you slimy. You don’t look slimy at all—or sticky. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Tar is fine, actually.” Sure, sounds a little ridiculous, but then, it’s almost my name. “In fact, I like it.” His lips form a faint smile. Then I add, “Just don’t say it near my master.”

He stares at me in a way that might make me shake again. “You don’t like him.”

“It’s… a complicated relationship.”

He runs a finger over his bracelets. “Lots of relationships are complicated. It doesn’t mean there isn’t love deep down, underneath it all. But that doesn’t look like it’s the case here.”

I shake my head. “No love.”

He presses his lips together, thoughtful. “I would send him away if I could. Unfortunately, my deal with him was that he would look over you, make sure you’re safe.”

“I thought fae couldn’t make deals with humans.”

“I thought the same, and yet I just learned that this law doesn’t include Tiurians. Perhaps I could make a deal with you.”

Would the deal not work, or would Renel notice there was something wrong? Whatever. I smile. “What deal would you like to make?”

“None yet. How much do you know about your magic?”

“Didn’t Otavio tell you? Nothing. I never trained. Wasn’t even aware I had magic.”

Renel looks down at his bracelets, then back at me. “How does it feel? To find out you have it?”

“If I could understand or use it properly, I guess it would make me happy—or powerful.” The idea is fascinating, but dwelling on it is as useful as wondering how I’d feel with wings.

Renel looks out the window, thinking. I want to act natural, try to find a way to have a pleasant interaction with him, but I’m stuck. Why did I ever think I could seduce him, when he’s so… odd.

Go, Tarlia, seduce a piece of wood . That would likely be easier. He’s distant, immersed in his own worries, or perhaps plotting some evil deed. Evil. All I see is a tense but handsome fae fiddling with his bracelets, hair, and comb, as if sitting on a chair was something new and uncomfortable.

I try to bring up a topic that might cheer him up. “What was it like? To pick sleepberries with your family?”

His eyes dash quickly to me, and then he takes a deep breath. “Calm. No fears, no worries. Calm. It didn’t sound like much. I appreciate it now, even if it’s so… Distant. Like it was other people.”

His voice is normal, casual, and yet I can feel that mantle of sadness enveloping him, becoming a cloud taking over this room. I could swear it even dims the light coming from the window.

What was I thinking? There can’t be any topic worse than his family, considering his parents are dead and his brother has become his enemy. To be fair, Renel was the one who mentioned it first.

And hey, you know what? I don’t see why Renel’s so sad, considering he’s still living like a king, and he’s the one who captured his brother—even if he escaped. Perhaps that’s what’s bothering him, but he doesn’t seem to care that he no longer has Marlak under his clutches.

Renel might be pretending, trying to gauge my reaction. Then again, he might want something with Astra’s magic, something I’ll obviously never be able to give him—but it will be fun to disappoint him.

I finally manage to finish peeling a berry and put it in my mouth, wondering if that’s all the food I’ll get for lunch. This one’s so sour that I want to spit it, but I swallow it.

Renel’s still silent, thoughtful, watching me. I need to come up with something to say, something smart, perhaps funny, or something that will cheer him up and make him trust me, but my mind is blank.

Behind me, I hear a thud, like a heavy step, and turn quickly, ready to fight in case it’s an attacker. To my surprise, I see Azur leaning on Lidiane. She nods at me, quickly, as if to say she’s fine.

Azur smiles at Renel. “It’s time for fun! We’re going to a festival. Take my hand.”

“Now?” Renel asks, then points to me and Lidiane. “But they’ll?—”

“Have fun. They can come.” Azur laughs. “Now. It’s really, really, really important. Now.” He widens his eyes and I’m not sure if it’s a plea, an order, or what.

Renel approaches his guardian while Lidiane extends a hand to me. Despite her previous nod, she’s anything but relaxed. Something’s wrong, perhaps something happened, and yet her look is encouraging. I’m assuming we’re about to transcend, like we did with Nelsin, to get near the castle.

I take Lidiane’s hand, then Renel’s. His fingers are cold, and holding his hand feels strange, the gesture too intimate for someone I barely know.

The room turns dark in less than a second, and I feel like my stomach is about to be turned upside down. There’s light again right away, but we’re inside an old wooden cabin. I let go of Renel’s hand and look around. Behind me, someone screams. I turn to see an old fae woman with bark-like skin, her eyes wide, staring at us.

Azur laughs. “Apologies. Wrong house. Please forget this.” He turns to us and says, “Let’s drink some more.”

He opens the door and we follow him. There’s a cobbled path in front of the house leading to more houses down the hill. There’s something else down there, as I hear some distant music and voices.

Renel somehow looks even tenser than he did before, a quizzical expression on his face as he stares at his guardian. “Summer End Festival, really?”

“Fun, Renel, fun. Let’s have very public fun .” Azur’s voice is slightly slurred, as if he had drunk too much, and yet there’s intention in the emphasis on the last words.

Renel shakes his head but keeps walking.

Azur still has an arm around Lidiane, as if leaning on her. She doesn’t look happy, but not as if she’s upset at him. Did they become buddies in the few hours they’ve been together? More than buddies?

Down there, I see a large valley and many wooden stalls, some of them covered in canopies. Delightful scents of meat and spices hit my nostrils, making me hungry. The music is clearer now; drums and strings in an entrancing melody. A fae festival!

If we weren’t coming here in such puzzling circumstances, I guess I would be thrilled.

Renel grunts. “Are you trying to get me assassinated?”

Azur chuckles. “I can’t, Your Highness! You know well I can’t.”

“You sound like you would if you could.” Renel’s definitely looking grumpy.

Meanwhile, Azur’s reply is a laugh.

The guardian then stops and says, “There are guards. We’ll get you some.” He then turns to me. “Wait.”

He waves a hand and does something that tickles my ear. I touch it and feel no difference.

Lidiane glares at him. “You can do glamours?”

He grins at her. “I’m multi-talented.”

She pushes him away from her. “I’m sure you can use your talents to walk on your own.”

Azur’s legs wobble, then he leans on Renel, who rolls his eyes. “I hope there will be a great explanation for this.”

Lidiane steps beside me and whispers, “He gave you fae ears.” I touch them again, and she adds, “It’s an illusion. You won’t be able to feel them.”

“Are you all right?” I whisper back.

She nods. “We’ll talk later.”

We walk in between a booth selling mini sculptures and a closed tent and step inside a large circle of booths, stalls, and tents. In the middle, there are wooden tables and an empty place in front of the band where three fae are dancing.

“Guards!” Azur yells. “Guards!”

All the fae around us stare at him and Renel, but soon two guards run to us.

“What is it?” One of them asks.

“Bow, you idiot!” Azur says. “Can’t you recognize your acting king? He’s stubborn but needs protection. Get some of your colleagues to form a perimeter around us.”

The guards bow, then one of them whistles, and two more guards approach us. As far as I know, a retinue of four is hardly enough for a royal, but with fae, things are different, since they have magical rules and deals.

We reach one of the wooden tables in the middle of the festival, followed by curious glances and angry glares. Lidiane sits beside me, but then Azur sits by her, so that she’s sandwiched between us, with Renel alone across from us.

I realize then that the place is mostly empty, with more than half of the stalls and tents closed, even if there are vendors selling food, drinks, clothes, and more objects. Many guards are walking around, so I assume coming here is not that dangerous for Renel.

Renel places a bag of coins in one of the guards’ hands. “Bring us some wine and water.”

“And food,” I say. My stomach is growling.

“Bring some skewers,” Renel adds with a smile.

Lidiane turns to me. “I’ve never been here before, but this has to be the Summer End Festival at Caraneya. We’re near the Solemn River, southeast of where the castle is currently located. Fae—both high and low—come from around the area, and this festival will probably be full at night and in the early hours of the morning.”

“Why are we here?” I whisper.

“For fun.” Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, but this is not the moment to try to get any answers from her.

A guard comes in with a jug and four cups. Renel himself serves them and passes them to us.

Strangely, he looks like a different person, with none of the tension I saw earlier. Instead, he looks regal, confident, and powerful, even sitting at a simple wooden table. Either this or what I saw in the castle was an act, or perhaps they’re different sides of the same person, and this is Renel when he’s in a public appearance, acting as the Crystal Court King.

The wine is delicious, with a fresh, zesty taste. I wish I could drink a lot of it, but I need to keep my wits. A guard brings a bucket with some kind of meat skewers and places it on the table.

Renel points at it and smiles. “More fae food, like you wanted.”

I take a skewer and taste some of the meat. It’s juicy, well-seasoned, and delicious. My stomach growls again, I think in approval or excitement. The meat has some thin bones and I’m assuming it’s some kind of small bird.

Renel and Azur take second servings of wine, while I take another skewer.

“What’s this?” I ask no one in particular.

“Mountain rat,” Renel replies.

“Rat?” I stare again at my skewer, unsure if I should feel disgusted. “They must be huge. But delicious.” There. I make up my mind and decide to keep on eating.

Azur gets up and climbs on the table, then yells, “We celebrate. Summer end!”

Lidiane leans her head on her hands, as if trying to hide, while Renel has a quick grimace, soon replaced by laughter. Fake laughter, I realize.

More people stare at us now.

“I can sing,” Azur says from the top of the table. “And dance!”

He takes off his shirt and tosses it to Lidiane. A quick glance tells me he’s well-defined, but I look away. I don’t want Renel to think I’m thirsting after his good-looking guardian.

Renel takes a slow sip of his wine, while Azur—I can’t believe what he’s doing. I glance again quickly, just to make sure I’m not imagining him unlacing his trousers, and catch him lowering them, so that I’m greeted with the sight of his dong. I look away quickly, and my eyes meet Renel’s. He looks puzzled rather than vexed, and shrugs. Beside me, Lidiane stares down at the table, as if refusing to acknowledge the spectacle in front of her.

I take another piece of my rat skewer, still impressed with the seasoning, when I feel strong, rough arms around my arms and torso, pulling me back.

Someone’s trying to kidnap me—or kill me.

ASTRA

S ix guards? Why did Sayanne call six guards to arrest me? And I can’t even try to use my magic. First, I don’t know if it will work. Second, what am I even going to do? Dazzle them?

I step back, then jump over the table and push it with all my strength. I just want to push the guards and Sayanne out of the room. Beside me, I see a large strip of cloth moving—the curtain. Ferer throws it on the ground like a jumping rope, and trips some of the guards.

I pick books from behind me and throw them, managing to hit Sayanne’s head. She steps back, then turns around and leaves the study. Beside me, someone else is throwing more books.

Nelsin! He’s much faster and much more precise than me. I can’t believe he’s here, and I’m thankful for his disobedience.

With another stroke of the curtain, Ferer trips two more guards, while Nelsin pushes the table against them, and gets them out the door.

“Retreat,” Sayanne calls from the hallway. “They can’t go anywhere.”

“Thank you, sister!” I yell, partly being sarcastic, but partly in earnest.

All I needed was for them to retreat.

My heart feels heavy and swollen after seeing Sayanne ordering my arrest. As much as Tarlia had told me Sayanne had tried to kill her, I had a small hope that it had been some kind of misunderstanding.

No. Sayanne is beyond hope—and will never be my friend again. Of course, that’s the last item on a long list of problems.

At least the guards are outside, and then Nelsin and Ferer push the door and bolt it. For once, I’m glad Otavio had so many locks in it.

Ferer turns to me, his face grave. “They’ll surround the tower, perhaps launch arrows.”

“We’ll wait,” I say, not too loud but not softly enough to prevent being overheard. “They’ll get tired.”

I put a finger over my lips, point to the adjoining room, then tiptoe there, while Nelsin and Ferer walk normally. Of course, fae don’t make noise when they walk.

We pass by the chair where Otavio colored my hair black before my wedding. It’s strange to look back at that time, look back at my fear, and yet, in retrospect, I wasn’t that afraid of Marlak. Could it be that part of me already yearned for his company? I don’t know.

Outside, the guards are quiet. That’s not a good sign. For all I know, they could be planning to bring the door down or something, and that’s why they quit. I pull a bookshelf and reveal the secret passage from where Otavio wanted me to escape all these days ago. When I try to open the door, I realize it’s locked.

Nelsin steps ahead, looks at the lock, then pulls a long metal filament from his pocket and works on it. I hope he can unlock it. Outside the room, the silence is ominous. Of course they’re planning something—unless they truly think we’re going to try to scale down the walls, in which case, it would make sense to place everyone downstairs.

Nelsin is focused, concentrated, and keeps moving that piece of metal. Ferer and I watch him in silence—partial silence, as I’m sure my heart is making a racket.

After many agonizing seconds, the door clicks, revealing that hallway with narrow steps where I made the decision to marry Marlak rather than become a fugitive, the decision that has led me to where I am today—back here.

We go in, then Nelsin does the best to pull the bookcase, and then locks the door again, even if we’re in the dark.

We step away from the door, Ferer in the front, touching the walls and descending slowly, carrying a dim lightstone.

Behind me, Nelsin whispers, “Do you know where this leads?”

“No,” I reply. “But it should let us escape the castle.”

It has to, or else Otavio wouldn’t have tried to sneak me away through this passage. I wonder how come he found it, if there are other passages like this, and if the guards know about it.

And then I recall that nobody would have expected me to escape that day, whereas now, they know we’re fleeing—and it could make all the difference.

I add, “But I’m not sure if the exit will be clear.”

We could end up trapped here, but then, what’s the alternative? Scaling down the walls would make us easy, slow-moving targets.

When I decided to come here, I knew there would be some risks, but in truth, I largely underestimated them. How could I have guessed everything that happened in the castle? I’m not even sure I believe Sayanne’s words that the two princes and the queen died, that Princess Driziely escaped, even if I hope she did. And why is Sayanne giving orders as if she had any authority here?

My only consolation is that at least she’s alive, even if she’s drowning in bitterness.

We keep descending slowly those dark stairs. A few times, I sense some movement by my feet—probably mice or other creatures. The stairs have a musty, damp smell, and eventually I hear water.

Ferer stops and extends his lightstone, its brightness reflecting on the floor below. Not floor, water.

“It’s submerged,” he says. “I can go in first, and check if it’s safe for you. Do you want to hold this?”

He offers me the lightstone, and I point to Nelsin. “Let him carry it. I don’t want to do any magic by accident.”

“True.”

Nelsin takes the stone, then says, “Be careful.” His voice is shaky, afraid.

Ferer chuckles. “It’s water, Nelsin. You surely don’t think I’m going to drown.”

“We don’t know what’s in there,” he says.

“I’m going.” Ferer turns and descends the last steps, then dives into the water.

I’m carrying the loose pages taken from the middle of the books, and not looking forward to ruining the only thing I got from this expedition.

Since Nelsin has a bag, I ask, “Do you have anything waterproof? For these?” I show him the pages.

“In fact, I do.” He opens his bag and pulls out a waterskin, then rolls the pages, puts them inside, and grins. “Genius, right?”

“I’m glad they fit.”

He shrugs. “We couldn’t have known we’d need to swim.” His tone is light, but I can sense his tension as he looks at the water below.

“My master was going to make me escape through here,” I say. “So I don’t think it’s dangerous.”

“Let’s hope it isn’t.”

His eyes are focused on the water, waiting for Ferer to return. Even in the dim light, I see his top ears perked up, as if trying to hear anything from his companion.

Seconds and seconds pass, and even I get agitated. When I’m thinking one of us should jump after Ferer, he finally emerges.

“It’s safe,” he says, still submerged up to his chest. “It leads to a small river, but it’s a long tunnel. You’ll have to hold your breath and swim fast, or else I can pull you.” He says this last part looking at me. “If you’re not a strong swimmer.”

“Can you pull me?” I feel slightly embarrassed saying that. “I can barely swim.”

Ferer nods, then looks at Nelsin. “You?”

“I can go on my own,” he says.

I descend two steps on those submerged stairs until I have water up to my thighs, then Ferer turns around. “Hold onto my waist, and don’t let go. You’ll need to relax, all right? Make sure you don’t try to breathe.”

I laugh. “I’m not going to try to breathe water!”

“You say that now, but when your lungs start to burn?—”

“I’ll be careful.”

I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with air, then hold his waist. He takes off right after that, his feet moving fast through a dark underwater tunnel. I would never be able to swim at that speed.

There’s an opening ahead, with some faint greenish light, and what I’m assuming is the unnamed river that runs by the Krastel castle. It’s a long tunnel. I’m exhaling slowly, but eventually, all my air is gone, and my lungs beg for more. It makes sense that some people would breathe water by mistake.

Air, air, air .

My lungs are screaming, and I interlace my fingers so as to hold Ferer tighter. We cross the opening, and I feel the current pushing us. Pushing a lot. I want to come to the surface, but the water won’t let me. I could swear it snatches my hands, then drags me away from Ferer. I still can’t breathe. All I need to do is reach the surface—and yet there’s a swirl spinning me, and I can’t get away from it.

A swirl. I’ve done this before, but with Marlak, who used air magic to make me comfortable underwater. With no air, this is torture. And then I don’t even know if it’s a swirl or if it’s just that I’m such a terrible swimmer that I’m doing something wrong.

And yet it stops, and I find my feet touching soft sand, with nymph guards armed with spears all around me. Ahead of me, on a throne, their queen.

I’m out of air and feel as if I’m breathing something, but it burns, and I can’t speak. I need to ask for air, or for them to let me go to the surface, but I don’t know how.

There is a way. I recall that the queen can do that mind-talking thing.

“Air,” I say, in my mind. “Air. I need to breathe.”

She just stares, and I realize Nelsin and Ferer aren’t anywhere around me. I’m all alone here. So far, I trusted the nymphs, but this time, there’s something wrong about this.

“Air,” I try again.

My vision gets blurry, then everything is black.