Page 31 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen (The Heartless and the Wicked #4)

FIFTEEN – KOLFINNA

They moved to a set of double doors at the far end of the room; they glimmered gold with thousands of tiny runes running over the dark surface.

Vidar pushed them open with ease to reveal a spiraling set of stairs.

Each step had hundreds of lines of runes etched into them too.

Kolfinna followed behind him, her discomfort growing as she glanced at the glowing words that didn’t make sense.

“What do these runes say?” she asked tentatively. They were walking too fast for her to pause and squint at the small writing. She wondered how many fae had painstakingly and meticulously poured their magic into each step of these stairs; it must have taken hours.

Vidar stopped one step above her and she almost bumped into his wings, which were tucked against his back. He glanced sharply over his shoulder at her and she shrunk beneath the red glare.

“You are incapable of reading runes?” His head tilted to the side as he turned half his body toward her. “I recall you breaking my soldiers’ runes during battle. Was that not you?”

She remembered the battle: hundreds of human soldiers had become incapacitated by rune barriers that didn’t allow them to use their magic, and she had shattered those runes.

“I can read runes,” she said with a frown, not liking the way he was staring at her. “But these runes don’t make sense.” She shuffled her foot over and pointed to a disjointed line of tiny runes. “ Infrastructure. Tenfold. Bind . These don’t even make sense in a sentence.”

He continued to stare at her like she was stupid.

Kolfinna’s impatience grew. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I am realizing that you … do not know much about runes,” he said after a moment. “These are runes that you will likely never have to use. They are engineering runes.”

“Engineering runes?”

“They are written this way because our engineers write them in codes to create different dimensions, or make them follow different rules, or to make them do what they want them to. The runes you and I use in battle are far, far simpler. These are complex. Even I do not understand how to make them.”

“Oh.” She thought of the shower room she had in her tower; did it operate in a similar way? “Is this similar to the Black Castle?”

“Yes. Rune engineers string together several codes of runes in order to create different dimensions within each of those rooms.” He turned his back to her and continued up the stairs. “You have been to the Black Castle, then?”

“Yes,” she answered. That was where it had all begun.

If she had never set foot into the Eventyrslot ruins, or the Black Castle as the fae called it, then she would have never met and freed Revna, who would have never tried to steal the D?d Svaerd, which would have never woken up Vidar and his armies.

All of it seemed like it was orchestrated, instead of a coincidence.

Or maybe it was her fate all along to be the catalyst for this war.

“Then you are acquainted with how it works.”

“Yes.”

“Many fae warriors go to the Black Castle when they are young adults to learn how to use their magic.” Vidar’s voice echoed off the stone walls and as they passed a small window, Kolfinna caught sight of the pale sky with fae slashing through it with their vividly colored wings.

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

“Did … did Aesileif?”

He didn’t speak for a moment, and it wasn’t until they reached a platform with a golden, rune-marked door that he spun to face her. His red eyes appeared distant, cut off from reality.

“All royal children must go to the Black Castle for training. Just as all nobles, and suitable commoners do as well. So yes, your mother also trained there in her youth.” He spread his hand out to the door behind him.

“We have made this tower to simulate the trials in the Black Castle, but it will be more difficult since you will have to brave it alone. I have also curated the trials to fit your needs.”

“My needs?” Her nose crinkled. It sounded strange to hear him say that.

“The areas in your training that are lacking,” he said dryly.

“Each of these trials will test a different set of your skills. The Black Castle focuses on fae abilities, but these trials will require you to use both your fae abilities and your elf ones. My hope is that once you complete these trials, your magic will have increased to the point that you can control and master the D?d Svaerd, instead of having it control you . ”

She sucked in her lower lip to keep from scowling or frowning, or showing her apprehension.

The trials in the Eventyrslot ruins had been daunting and terrifying, but at least she had Blár and the others with her.

Here, she would be alone, and she wasn’t sure she liked the idea of that.

But a part of her was thrilled at the prospect of using her magic; because of the runes throughout her tower and the fortress, she wasn’t able to use her magic.

“Will I … die in any of them?” she asked slowly, remembering how their group of royal guards and soldiers had been brutally murdered, their numbers cut down by more than half in the first trial.

He stared at her levelly. “Do you really think I would send you to your death, Kolfinna?”

“No.” She paused, and then added, “Because you need me.”

“More than that. You are my daughter.” His lips pursed, and the firelight from the sconces cast a flickering orange glow over the scarred half of his face.

The air around him shifted. “You are my flesh and blood. I promised the day you were born that I would kill anything that ever stood in your way. Anyone who has ever harmed you will face my wrath. Do you think that I would be the one to deliver that blow to you?”

Kolfinna flinched. Hearing him say it like that sounded … like too much. Without warning, the back of her eyes stung and she averted her gaze. She didn’t want to hear him talk about her like that. It sounded too foreign, the concept that this evil man had loved her and sworn to protect her.

“Who …” His hands clenched and unclenched, his red eyes flashing. “Who do you think we are doing all this for?”

“Excuse me?”

Vidar exhaled; his frustration was barely concealed behind his tense expression. He shook his head, as if he was tired of this conversation, and then motioned to the door. “Go on.”

“But …”

“You will not die in there, Kolfinna.” His words came out flat. “But you can be seriously injured, so don’t take these trials lightly.”

Her emotions were becoming messier by the second. She didn’t want to see this side of Vidar, and she didn’t want to accept that she was truly his daughter. He made it sound like he … he loved her. Like the wicked queen loved her. And like they used to be a happy little family.

All good parents sacrificed for their children. Wanted a better life for them. Were Aesileif, Vidar, the fae and elves, simply working for a better future for their children? For the fae and elf race? Similarly, the humans fought for their own race’s betterment.

She pushed those thoughts aside. She didn’t need all of this messy drama. All of this … confusion.

Kolfinna swallowed down the dread clawing up her throat, incapable of speaking for a moment. Breathing out deeply, she shoved the rune-marked door open, and without giving Vidar a second glance, entered the room.

A plain, windowless room without any furnishing awaited her.

A simple, ominous sentence, etched in runes, was sprawled on the far wall.

Escape the maze . That was it. Nothing else in the room indicated what her trial would be.

But Kolfinna barely paid attention to the runes, or the possible trial; instead, her entire focus was pulled to a giant family portrait that hung on the left wall.

A woman with piercing blue eyes and sharp cheekbones that could slice anyone’s resolve to speak to her stared down at her through the painting.

Her pale blonde hair was pulled behind her head, accentuating the gold and sapphire-studded crown on her head.

She appeared severe, calculating, and unkind.

She was clad in a heavily embroidered silver dress.

Vidar stood beside her in the painting; his armor was the same as usual—black-scaled, menacing, terrifying.

His red eyes seemed to glow, the artist having perfectly captured his stoic glare.

His wings were flared, stretching out protectively behind his wife.

One of his hands was pressed around her waist, while in his other arm he held a little girl.

She must have been around a year old. Her cheeks were red, her black hair curled down to her shoulders, and her eyes were a brilliant shade of pink.

Tiny silver wings were visible behind her.

A silver tiara studded with pink gems sat atop of her head.

Kolfinna stared at the painting, her stomach twisting into tight knots. How did Vidar find this? Had he created it recently? Or was this an old painting from a long, long time ago? And what was it doing here?

She stared harder at the woman; she was beautiful, young, and appeared every bit like the wicked queen she was supposed to be.

It was hard to imagine that this woman—who looked like she never smiled—was her mother, or that she could love anyone or anything.

She was too sharp. Too much like a sword who only knew how to slash and destroy.

A gong sounded loudly, familiarly; it rattled the walls, her body, and the floor.

Kolfinna ripped her attention away from the painting and braced herself.

All at once, the room began spinning and her stomach clenched tightly as wave after wave of nausea knocked into her.

Despite her mental preparation, she was knocked off her feet at the dizzying spin of the room.

Colors blurred around her and she squeezed her eyes shut.

Just as quickly as it had begun, it stopped.

When Kolfinna finally peeled her eyes open, she took in her new surroundings.

Extremely tall walls of vines and leaves surrounded her on either side, and the tangled, root-infested, dirt path split into three different directions.

Like the runes had foretold, she was in a maze.

Kolfinna rose to her feet slowly, her gaze skating from the ten-foot walls beside her to the gloomy, gray sky.

First things first, she held her hand out to the ground and willed her mana to work through the roots, to make them bend at her will.

They didn’t budge, no matter how much she tried to make them.

A curse escaped from her mouth. Her nature magic wasn’t working; most of the trials in the Eventyrslot ruins had required her to break the runes binding her magic, but a quick glance at her surroundings and a quick feel for the rune magic told her there wasn’t anything like that here.

Hadn’t Vidar told her that she needed to learn how to wield her magic? What was the point if she couldn’t even use it?

Something growled from behind her and she whirled on her feet to find a demonic dog with glowing electric-blue eyes and long, pointed, blood-stained horns. Its mouth curled back to reveal a row of yellowed, sharp teeth.

Kolfinna’s eyes widened. She couldn’t fight with no magic and no weapon.

The creature lunged at her and she stifled a scream as she leaped back.

The dog snapped its jaws at her, and white electricity stemmed from its paws and zapped her feet.

A sharp pain shot through her ankles and she jumped further away.

The hound tackled her to ground, its teeth sinking into her forearm.

She screamed. The pain blinded her for a moment, overtaking all of her senses, before panic kicked in.

Adrenaline rushed through her veins and she punched the creature repeatedly.

Its iron-like grip didn’t release from her flesh; it only continued to dig deeper into her.

Electricity zapped from its paws where they rested on her body, and white-hot pain shot through her in waves.

Warm blood gushed down from her arm and the more she yanked it back, the more the dog ripped through the muscles.

She gritted through the pain and jammed one of her fingers into its eye-socket.

The hound finally released her arm, only to snap at her face, but she shoved its jaw away in the last second, its sharp teeth almost tearing her nose off.

Kolfinna jumped to her feet, breathing heavily, her arm limp against her side.

The dog growled and lunged again, and she barely sprang away on time.

She ducked and dodged, her mind chaos. Everything hurt. Her arm, her body where the electricity burned her—her head felt light. But maybe that was the terror settling in.

Normally, she would be able to fight these kinds of creatures easily.

She and Blár had faced a dreki without their powers in the ruins, so why was she having so much trouble against this creature?

Had Vidar made this hound stronger than it should have been?

Or was she terrified because she was alone?

No. She was stronger than this. She couldn’t be defeated by a single, stupid creature.

Kolfinna kicked the hound’s face when it drew closer, and its head whipped to the left, its paws digging into the earth as it lurched toward her again. She raised her arms to punch it again, when a thought struck her.

Her arm was healing.

Maybe her fae abilities didn’t work, but what if her elf abilities did?

Just as the dog was close enough to snap at her arm, she released a tendril of her dark shadow magic. It whipped out of her easily and wrapped around the hound’s mouth. Flicking her wrist, she snapped the creature’s neck. The hound whimpered as it crumpled to the ground, its eyes slowly dulling.

Kolfinna breathed out shakily. Her hands trembled and she flexed them as adrenaline continued to flow through her veins. A minute passed and the wound on her arm completely healed, faded scars taking its place.

She glanced at the paths in front of her. She doubted this dog was the one and only creature she would face here. Vidar wanted her to practice her shadow magic, it seemed. Taking another gulp of air, she continued onward, toward the twisting paths of the maze.