Page 59 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen (The Heartless and the Wicked #4)

THIRTY – KOLFINNA

Kolfinna awoke that morning with a feeling that something was … different.

The memories of last night made her blush, and she knew her relationship with Blár was completely changed now, but this was a different kind of feeling.

Her mana, which had increased since their first shared kiss, seemed to skyrocket.

She hadn’t noticed it last night, but now she could feel the vastness of Blár’s mana within herself too.

It flooded her senses, filling her with a coldness that made her dizzy.

She shivered in Vidar’s office, wishing she had worn something thicker.

Birds chirped loudly from the windows, and Kolfinna’s attention flicked from them to Vidar, who sat behind his desk silently.

He had called her here but hadn’t spoken much, as if he was waiting for something.

She was more than happy to sit in silence, her thoughts a tangled web.

She had only caught a glimpse of Blár among her guards, and she wished she could have woken up next to him.

She rubbed her hands together to bring more warmth to her skin.

She wanted to ask Blár if he also felt her magic now that they had consummated.

The Bryllup ceremony, or the mating bond, was supposed to work fully now that they had joined their bodies.

But was it different for him since he was a human and she was a fae?

She wanted to ask him, but held her tongue.

Tonight, they would escape, and she could ask him everything then.

“You seem happy.”

Kolfinna jerked her chin up at Vidar. He was watching her with an unreadable expression.

“Do I?” She cleared her throat. “You look unhappy. Though that seems to be your default expression.”

He frowned.

“Why did you call me here?”

Vidar opened his mouth to answer, but a knock interrupted them.

A soldier entered the room, murmured something to him, and left with a hasty bow.

Her father sighed, long and hard, and then rose from his seat.

He grabbed his helmet, which was seated on the edge of the table, and slid it on, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms. His mana rippled through the air, violent and heavy, before it settled.

A shiver ran down her spine; he looked even more sinister than usual. Or maybe it was the air around him.

“Did you mean what you said yesterday? Will you free Aesileif?”

She had thought about it that night and morning. Through her messy, guilty feelings, and her confusion over everything, the answer was a resounding and ever-complicated, “Yes.” The word wrenched out from her.

Kolfinna wasn’t sure if that was relief in his eyes, or if he had expected it and had only wanted to confirm. He held his hand out for Kolfinna.

“What is it?” she asked, tentatively slipping her fingers into his cool, scarred hand.

He helped her to her feet. “We must go.”

Without warning, Vidar led her out into the hallway. Her guards straightened and she tried to make eye contact with Blár, but Vidar was already pulling her in the opposite direction.

“What—what are you doing?” she asked as his stride hastened.

“We are leaving this fortress.”

Leaving?

Panic filled her chest, tightening her until she couldn’t breathe.

Had Vidar figured out Blár was planning on leaving tonight?

Was that why he was so bent on taking her out of this fortress?

No. She tried to calm the stirring emotions tightening her chest. Now that she agreed to free the queen, he probably wanted to go to Aesileif’s location before she changed her mind. But still, something wasn’t right.

She cleared her throat. “W-Where are we going? To free the queen?”

“You’ll see.”

“But—”

Vidar cast her a blank look over his shoulder. “You will help in this war, Kolfinna. Whether you like it or not, you are the key to our people’s freedom.”

They were moving too fast; she didn’t have time to comprehend his words, nor the strength to rip her hand away from his.

Her panic only grew, deepening by the fact that something was very wrong .

Were they … leaving for a battle?

Vidar didn’t bother looking at her. Instead, he glanced back at her guards. Her heart skipped a beat; had he noticed that Blár was among them? Or had Blár accidentally slipped up? But he only ordered, “Move to General Rakel’s location with the drekis. We will be leaving shortly.”

All the guards exchanged glances with one another—and she caught Blár’s furtive glance her way—then they spun around and headed in a different direction. Vidar continued hauling her off, his wings twitching.

When she thought they would never stop traversing the fortress, Vidar ripped the door to one of the rooms open and stepped inside. Aslaug, the older woman who Kolfinna had been locked away with her, had been gazing out the barred window. She rose up to her feet, eyes panicked.

“Is it time?” she asked.

“Yes. Come with us.” Vidar waved her forward, and she approached toward them hesitantly, before he snapped, “We’re leaving immediately. If you’ve changed your mind?—”

“No.” Aslaug’s eyes glowed with animosity, so pure and raw that Kolfinna had to look away. “ Never .”

The three of them rushed down the hall once more.

Vidar’s wings kept trembling, as if he was fighting off the urge to fly away with speed.

Kolfinna tried to wrap her mind around what was happening.

Clearly, Vidar was readying for some sort of battle.

Was this where they would free the queen?

The visions from the sword had certainly triggered all of this.

Her head pounded with all the possibilities.

She wanted to free the queen, her mother, but she needed more time to think and plan what her next steps would be.

Just because she wanted Aesileif free didn’t mean she was aligning herself completely with the fae, but that also didn’t mean she wanted to stay completely aligned with the humans.

She needed more time. She needed to find some middle ground.

But she didn’t have time, because Vidar took them to one of the courtyards, and Kolfinna’s heart nearly dropped from her chest.

Hundreds of serpentine drekis were stationed and ready, armor hanging over their large, scaled bodies. Two or three elf riders were already strapped on each of their backs, shadowy magic harnessing them in place. Hundreds of armored soldiers stood behind them in lines. Ready for battle.

In the distance, she caught Agnarr with his own group of soldiers; he was giving them orders, or a speech, from the looks of it. Dread pooled in the pit of her stomach. Why was he still here? Shouldn’t he be gone to the military headquarters? Or … were they going to head there, too?

And how had they gotten all these soldiers ready this fast? They must have been preparing for this since yesterday. Maybe Vidar had ordered it the second she had gone into a trance from the sword. Maybe … maybe?—

It didn’t matter why. It just mattered that this was happening .

“What’s going on?” Her voice came out shrill, and she noticed that Aslaug walked with purpose, with furrowed brows. What was she planning?

Vidar whistled and one of the riderless drekis flew toward them.

It dropped his head in front of him, and he touched its scaled head fondly.

The dreki gently pushed against his hand, a low purr sounding from its throat.

Crisscrossing scars ran along the dreki’s head, and one of its horns was chipped at the tip.

“This is Baldur,” Vidar said. “Treat him with respect and don’t fear him, else he might toss you overboard.”

Aslaug licked her lips nervously. “I’ve never met a dragon before.”

Vidar canted his head. “I am not familiar with that word. We call them dreki, or drekis.”

That was the last conversation he would indulge in, it seemed, because he towed them both on top of Baldur with his shadow tendrils.

The shadows wrapped around their waists, and then around the dreki.

He didn’t bother harnessing himself in, just sat atop Baldur with ease, his hand momentarily pressing against the creature’s side.

Kolfinna turned to Aslaug; the woman didn’t appear injured, tortured, or mistreated, which was a relief. But it was clear that Vidar needed her for something—and vice versa, judging by her willingness to join him. She could only wonder what she had bargained with him.

“Vidar—” Kolfinna started, but Baldur shot off the ground and her words were ripped away with a scream.

She grasped the spikes along his back, her eyes nearly bugging out of her sockets.

Wind tore through her hair and her eardrums nearly popped at the high speed.

She clutched onto the dreki for dear life, even though she knew Vidar was keeping her secure.

“Where are we going?” she shouted once her heart rate calmed down.

Vidar glanced over his shoulder at her. His red eyes glowed between the slits of his helmet. “The capital.”

Her stomach dropped.

She had known that Vidar planned to invade the capital and take over the kingdom at some point, but she hadn’t thought it would be this soon.

She could only hope that her warning to Herja had paid off, and that Fenris and the others were prepared for something like that.

It would take days to reach them; was there any way to get a warning to Fenris? Her mind strained at the possibilities.

She needed to do something. Anything .

Her friends and acquaintances were at the capital—Eyfura, Nollar, Magni, the other Royal Guards. Not to mention the innocents. How many people would die in this battle?

She twisted in her seat, the wind tearing through her hair and cheeks, and gasped at the hundreds of drekis and fae flying behind them.

The drekis’ black, powerful wings soared and flapped in the air, their bodies moving gracefully.

Lethally. And beside them, hundreds of thousands of fae with colorful wings kept up pace with them.

Kolfinna’s heart rate picked up again, racing wildly to a panicked tune; this was really happening, and she was being dragged into it.

They had days, she told herself, before they arrived to the capital.

She had time to send Fenris a note, maybe?

Or maybe she could do something to warn the others?

But her mind was drawing a blank, because what was faster than a dreki?

And how would she be able to relay a message?

“Now!” Vidar shouted, his voice carrying with the mighty winds as he raised his hand.

Kolfinna watched as thirty or so fae raced ahead of the whole party, and stationed themselves several feet from each other, forming a circle.

They raised their hands and glowing runes poured out of their hands.

The runes floated in the air, then more formed and interlinked with each other, until there was a massive rune circle.

It shone golden, the air dense with magic.

The clouds separated, the sky seemed to split, and waves of mana rolled out from the circle.

She never seen anything like it before. It was beautiful. Terrifying. Exhilarating.

Baldur didn’t slow down. He kept up the same breakneck speed, racing toward the center of the circle. Kolfinna braced for impact, her heart stuttering. And right when he shattered through the center of it, the skies shifted. She screamed, squeezing her eyes shut as a wave of nausea rolled over her.

But then the sensation disappeared, and when she opened her eyes, they widened in shock.

The sprawling fortress city, the farmlands, the green hills, the mountains—all of it had disappeared.

In its place was a city she was all too familiar with.

Tall buildings that scraped the horizon, a palace that overlooked the thousands of buildings clustered around it, the smoky air.

She would have recognized it in her sleep.

They were in the capital.

They had warped through the rune circle.

Shopkeepers in front of stalls had halted in their trading, people hurrying down the streets had stopped in their tracks, guards patrolling the streets froze, children running and playing had their heads tilted back.

Everyone below was staring at the sky in what Kolfinna assumed was horror and shock.

Hundreds of thousands of fae soldiers quickly flooded the skies, more and more pouring out from the rune circle behind them.

And then, chaos ensued.