Page 106 of The Shadowbound King

“You all right?” Andrin said, resting a warm hand on my shoulder.

Rane slid a knife into my hand. “We’re right here with you,” he whispered.

I smiled at him. “Thank you.”

Pushing the door open, I stepped into the shadowed chamber.

My father lay on the bed, his chest rattling as he struggled to breathe. The few remaining tufts of hair clinging to his spotted scalp were white. His skin sagged, flakes sloughing off with every labored breath he drew. His golden fist was missing, his stump resting atop sheets stained with body fluids as he decomposed.

He bared yellow, broken teeth as we approached the bed. “Come to gloat?”

I stopped at the footboard. “No, Father. I simply came to ask why.”

A bitter-sounding laugh rattled from him. “You ask me that,” he wheezed, “when you stand before me knowing you will never die.” A tear trickled from one rheumy eye. “I was…scared.”

Sympathy rose in my chest. As swiftly as it came, it retreated. “You killed my mother.”

Something flickered in his eyes. He groaned, thick, yellow liquid oozing from his ear to soak the pillow beneath his head. His chest rattled as he struggled to speak. “I…loved…”

My throat burned, and I shook my head. “You didn’t love her. Always, you’ve loved only yourself.” I gripped the footboard as questions spun through my mind. Othor had died before I could get answers. But I had a chance to get them now.

“Why did you push me to marry?” I demanded. “You wanted the Kree, yet you were willing to ship me all the way to Midpeak.”

At first, it appeared he wouldn’t reply. Then he snorted, blood bubbling from his nose. “I guess it doesn’t matter anymore,” he muttered as if speaking to himself. “You were still mortal. You would have died eventually, taking the heart with you.”

Shock stole my breath, a lifetime of wondering finally put to rest. “You wanted heirs,” I said, my throat tight with growing disgust. “I saw what you did to my mother…and to me. You would have done the same thing to my child, raising your own grandson or granddaughter as a living vessel for the Kree just so you could stay close to it and live forever.” He hadn’t cared about his legacy. No, he’d wanted to save his own skin.

He glared at me, his breathing growing more labored.

“It wouldn’t have worked,” I said. “The shadows would have devoured Autumn and then Eftar. Eventually, they would have devoured you too. But you didn’t think of that, did you? Your selfishness was too absolute.”

Nothing. Only silence as my father maintained his hateful glare.

“How did you trick the servants?” I asked. “How did you keep them from noticing you never aged?”

He clamped his mouth shut, stubbornness settling over his ruined features.

The footboard creaked under my hands. Looking down, my heart sped up. I closed my eyes and let magic build under my hands. Images flashed in my head, servants weeping as they stood in my father’s bedchamber requesting time off for a loved one’s funeral.

“I have no idea what happened, my lord. One day, she was well. The next, she was gone.”

I opened my eyes, disgust twisting my stomach as I stared at my father. “You killed them. When someone grew suspicious, you killed them, too.”

He narrowed his eyes, his breathing growing more ragged.

“No one is guaranteed tomorrow, Father. Not even the elves. You spent so much time running from death, you forgot to live.”

He gasped, his chest heaving. Bony fingers clutched at the sheets. Watery blood trickled from his mouth. The aging process sped up, the years rushing him all at once. With another ragged, wheezing breath, his chest stilled. His nose shriveled and rolled from his face, bouncing and finally coming to rest on the mattress near his shoulder. After another moment, his corpse turned to dust.

For a long moment, silence stretched. Then, Andrin turned me toward him. His big arms circled me, and he pressed his lips to my ear as Rane stroked my hair from behind.

“Let’s go, my love,” Andrin said. Taking Rane’s hand in one of his and mine in the other, he pulled us to the shadows in the corner. A second later, we stepped into the King’s Grove, where we’d left the Edeloak staff leaning against the ancient tree.

Andrin brought it to me and extended it. “This belongs to you now,” he said softly, “High Priestess of the Autumn Court, Lady of the Embervale, and Keeper of the Kree.”

Nerves fluttered in my stomach as I accepted the staff. “That’s a lot of titles.”

“The last one could use some work,” Rane said, a little smile playing around his mouth.

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