Page 27 of Beyond the Winter Kingdom (Faeted Seasons #2)

Vareck

The humidity and tension thickened the longer we walked.

While I knew I needed to talk with my mate, my frustration with her hadn’t abated.

I walked away for a good reason. The words I’d said in anger were bad enough, and I wasn’t willing to risk making it worse.

Sometimes saying you’re sorry isn’t good enough to repair the damage your words have caused, and I wouldn’t make that mistake.

Despite my good intentions, the silence between us made each second excruciating.

Night stretched on.

And on.

Quite literally since that was the nature of this realm. While Eversus was a land of two suns, Evorsus was eternal night with two moons to light the way. The smaller of which hung in the sky, illuminating the scattered fragments of the broken one that spun with it.

“I’ve never seen a moon like that before,” Meera said softly, glancing up. She tripped over a rock, hopping on one foot as she tried to catch her balance. “Did something crash into it?”

“Not exactly,” Damon answered, keeping his voice low.

“Are you going to explain or just leave us hanging?” Sadie cut in half a beat later. Damon sighed, and for once I felt like I understood my nephew.

“Uncle,” he called lightly. “I believe you’re more familiar with the twin hells.” I wasn’t sure if it was a slight or not, but I answered regardless.

“Noxathra,” I said, pointing to the fractured moon overhead.

Its pale shards hovered in uneven orbit, like shattered glass frozen mid-fall.

“It was believed to have been a prison. A sentient spirit resided there. Something ancient, dangerous. When the moon shattered, that being was released. We think that’s what plunged Evorsus into eternal night. ”

Meera, who walked slightly ahead, faltered. A shiver visibly ran through her. “Is that what’s watching us? Some ancient evil?” She put two and two together quickly, but I expected nothing less of my intelligent mate.

“If you believe the stories,” Damon murmured.

“Where do these ‘stories’ come from?” Sadie asked. “Last I checked, the teddy bear cult didn’t talk.”

“Not in a way we understand, but all life forms communicate,” I said. “So while they don’t talk, it’s worth remembering there are worse things in this realm than Corvo’s worshippers.”

Sadie raised an eyebrow, craning her head to the side to stare at me over her shoulder. “Do tell.”

I lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Old blood stains these woods. The land holds onto those memories like a wound that never fully scabbed over. We’ve found ruins with warnings carved in languages long forgotten, half-burned journals from men and women who lost their minds trying to translate them after returning to Faerie.

The land itself whispers ...” I trailed off, not liking the unsettling way that they all looked to me.

“And if you listen long enough, it speaks to you. It starts to make sense,” I finished.

“Awesome,” Meera muttered. “Haunted hell rocks. Totally fine.”

Sadie smirked. “Does the land whisper sweet nothings, or is it more subtle suggestions, like the ‘die screaming’ variety?”

Damon grunted. “Depends on your definition of sweet.”

Sadie rolled her eyes, throwing her head back with a snort of derision. “I think you’re fucking with us.”

Damon shrugged, like he hadn’t a care in the world.

“Think what you want, Sadie. But there are ruins scattered throughout this realm from Noxathra. There are ancient carvings, pre-dating anything we know of in the other realms. Evidence is everywhere if you just pay attention. I doubt all that work was put in so they could fuck with someone thousands of years later.”

“I didn’t say they were fucking with me. I meant you,” she retorted.

“I wouldn’t fuck with you in public. I’m not much of an exhibitionist,” he said casually, and Sadie’s steps stalled slightly. Meera didn’t seem to notice, but Damon did. A small smirk appeared before he quickly schooled his features.

Before Sadie could start another argument, Meera turned around to face us, walking backward now.

“So we’re just marching through eternal night, under a broken moon that used to be a prison, surrounded by cute-but-murderous cultists, the Nameless, and probably other creatures too that we’ve yet to encounter.

Now you’re telling me something might be watching us that predates written history? ”

“Checks out.” Sadie shrugged, then looked down at her sister’s feet. “Turn around before you fall over.”

“I want to file a formal complaint with fate,” Meera muttered, eyes flicking to the sky again as she turned back around. “Specifically about mine.”

“Is that so?” Her comment made me bristle despite my best effort to brush it off. She seemed to realize the insinuation and then gave me an apologetic look over her shoulder.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean ...” She slowed down, watching her steps carefully.

Sadie seemed oblivious to the exchange. “Maybe the next creature we encounter will speak in a language we understand. I have some questions I want answered. Like where the exit is.”

“Well, the Nameless spoke, but I don’t think they were up for conversation, and honestly, I’d rather not run into them again,” Meera said. Damon came to an abrupt stop.

“They spoke?” He looked at me for confirmation and I nodded. “What’d they say?”

“They said, ‘stand down, cursed king’ when Vareck was getting ready to fight, and when I said they were fae and understood us, they said, ‘like calls to like, my queen.’” My entire body tensed at the memory.

A revenant had no need for a leader. They knew who I was without question, and they wanted me dead.

The Cursed King. Meera, however, was different.

I felt it deep in my bones. They coveted her.

She left out what the Nameless said afterward.

She’s ours. Whatever evil coursed through the veins of Evorsus had some perverted desire to claim her. I feared what that truly meant.

“They called you a queen, but then they attacked you?” Sadie said with a sigh.

“This place, man. Teddy bears offer food and foot massages so they can eat you, and zombies, or whatever they are, call you a queen, but think you should be dead. What I’m hearing is that if it seems like a compliment, you’re about to be killed. Got it.”

“They aren’t zombies,” Damon said quietly. His gaze lost focus, and I watched curiously as a frown formed between his brows. His lips moved as he muttered to himself, repeating, ‘like calls to like.’”

“Sure looked like a zombie,” Meera said, brushing a hand over her face and pulling my attention to her as she swiped away a curl. “The way the skin was all weird and the missing eyes. Right up until they change and look just like you. Shapeshifting zombies.”

Sadie stopped walking, so we all came to a halt, her voice rising as she spoke. “They shapeshift? Say what now?”

Meera shushed her and nodded, but I answered.

“They trick you by changing their appearance. They can mimic voices. It’s how they lure in their prey.

In the middle of a battle, there’s always confusion.

You’re turning one way or the other, fighting.

One second you think you’re standing beside your friend, the next, your ‘friend’ kills you. Don’t allow them the opportunity.”

She pointed at Damon while ranting, an edge of concern leaking into her voice.

“You mean to tell me that before you guys showed up, his clone could have just appeared out of nowhere and tried to kill me? Some sort of monster version of him this hell realm created just switches places with him, and it even sounds like him? No wonder people don’t make it out of here alive,” she muttered.

“That wouldn’t have happened. I know what the Nameless are,” he said, but Sadie frowned, dubious at his confidence.

“Whatever they were, they were creepy.” Meera shuddered, rubbing her arms.

“They’re just parasites looking for their next meal. They use fae to regenerate, so at least we know what they want and there’s no point trying to reason with them. You have to kill them all as quickly as possible. If we face them, follow my lead.”

My nephew scoffed, shaking his head in a way that suggested he was strongly opposed.

“You disagree?”

“I do. You actually believe that? They use fae to regenerate? It’s horseshit. Regenerate to what?”

“They’re revenants, Damon. Fae-like creatures returned from the dead. Understand?” I said, pushing back. Annoyance flared deep in my chest. The mocking tone in his every word, the way he questioned me with authority when he had none just added fuel to the fire that already burned within me.

“That part is true. They are revenants. The rest is story time nonsense the elder fae use to scare children,” he countered.

“They’re trapped here, understand? This isn’t their domain.

” His matter-of-fact attitude sent flames through my veins.

“They don’t eat fae, and they don’t ‘regenerate’ to their former selves.

There’s no evidence to support that. They’re–”

“Evidence? First of all, I’ve been here.

I’ve seen what they can do. I know firsthand, more than you could ever know.

Building on that, the council of advisors know far more than you do in regard to the realms. The council, which you are not a part of, is a highly respected group of fae, men and women alike, who have dedicated their lives to knowledge.

Knowledge they use to help me keep our kingdom safe.

Make decisions that best serve our people.

You claim they don’t eat fae or use them to regenerate.

I’ve seen otherwise, and I believe the burden of proof lies with you. What's your source, nephew?”

“Have you even read any of the books you have in that giant library of yours? Or do you really just rely on the council to educate you?” He boldly took a step forward, not quite a challenge, but close to it.