Page 52 of Till Kingdom Come

A man had been standing there at the gates looking down at us from just behind the bars, and I knew instinctively who it was. It was too far away and too dark to see for sure, but I’d know him anywhere. I longed to go to him, almost as much as I wanted to throttle him. Where had these crazy, complicated feelings come from? How had it come to this? I had been close to killing him in that throne room a few days ago, and that had to be the result of the curse on Daeneid. That and the way Hendris stood beside him, possessively touching him and speaking for him and acting as if Killian belonged to him. Killing them both and reveling in their blood had been all I could think about. I’d never felt jealousy like that before.

I had been infuriated way out of proportion and beyond all reason. Was that the curse I’d heard about at work? I had never believed in it before and most of me still thought it was foolish, but the way I’d felt was undeniable. I was a Fairy, and I believed in curses on people—I had seen those happen. But never one on astone.

Damn it, I didn’t want Killian dead. I couldn’t bear the thought of it. So what had happened with us? And was there any way to reverse it?

Intricate curses required a spell placed directly on the one involved. I’d heard about generational curses, but I’d never seen one that actually worked. If I’d had any idea the curse was in place, I’d never have allowed Killian to get anywhere near that stone. I certainly wouldn’t have encouraged him to put his blood on it.

I could well imagine what he looked like standing there by the gate tonight in the cold night air. He’d be wearing his fur that he loved so much, and his hair would be flipped over the collar of the coat, streaming down his back, the silvery white tresses mixed with the golden blond making a vibrant contrast to the black mink. If I were standing in front of him, he would lower his eyes, and his long eyelashes would be like smudges on his cheeks. Those incredible eyes, as green as emeralds, would sparkle at me as he dared a look up into mine. He always looked so glad to see me. Had that all been a ruse and a trick? Did he feel any genuine affection for me at all? And if he did, why did he take up with that Elf as soon as I left him alone? Could that have been the curse at work too?

Why did he have to be so beautiful anyway? I wanted to punish him for it—I wanted to hurt him, but at the same time I wanted to hold him in my arms forever and never let him go. How could I hate someone and love them so much at the same time? I’d never felt so out of control and so confused as to why the word “love” had begun leaking out of me like water from a rusty bucket. Why had that word even occurred to me? I didn’t love him. I’d been carefully taught all my life that love was something people only pretended to feel. It was a lie, and we were better off without it.

Then this morning, a message had come from Killian. He had wanted to talk, he said. My father had scoffed at first, but in the end, he was too curious to see what Killian wanted to say. We had agreed to meet him and his “Regent” in a small clearing outside the gates.

The snow-covered trees around the clearing grew in a quarter-moon shape and as Killian and his council came forward, with their guards arranging themselves around them. I was aware of our own guards spreading themselves out behind us too, facing the others and shifting uneasily on their feet, their hands on their weapons. The only sounds were creaks of leather and the shuffling of boots, along with the soft wind sighing around us. Danger flew through the air like bolts from a crossbow.

As usual, what weak sunlight there was seemed to shine down directly on Killian, but maybe that was just my imagination. He looked nervous and tense as he approached us, and I saw how little sleep he’d had recently. I steeled myself against him and tried to compose myself.

“Good morning,Your Majesty,” my father said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Killian didn’t take the bait. He nodded at my father and looked over at me. “Bracca,” he said softly. “I’m glad you decided to come. We need to talk.”

“We have nothing to say to each other,” I snapped and immediately regretted it. What was wrong with me?

“We’re here to listen to what you have to say,” my father replied. “I assume you want to surrender and want to negotiate the most favorable terms.”

Killian looked back at him and took a deep breath. “Then you assume wrong. We’ve decided to fight you and drive you away.”

“Fight us? We’ll defeat you very quickly.”

“I suppose that remains to be seen.”

My father glared at Killian. “You finally picked a side for yourself, did you? But not the side of your husband. I see you have a problem doing that.”

Killian got a pink flush on his creamy complexion and glanced over at me. “I picked a side the night I married your son. Though you both seem to have trouble remembering it.”

The king scoffed and glanced over at me, as if to see my expression. When he found me steadily staring at Killian, he frowned.

“Enough of this! You say you want to fight? What about here and now?”

Hendris spoke up. “If you want a fight then we’ll give you one. Winner takes all. Stags, armor, everything in the city. The city itself. But first you have to agree to let the non-combatants go. The women and children…let them walk away before the battle begins. No executions, no rapes or assaults on women and children. Defeat us if you can, and the city will be yours.”

That’s when I gave a loud bark of laughter. “A city with a curse on it? One that will deteriorate even further if Killian leaves? No, thank you. Don’t worry, if we win, then we won’t kill your people. We need them to work the mines. And we’ll need Killian to agree to stay and keep the throne alive.”

“That’s outrageous!” Hendris yelled. “You offer us no real terms? No concessions? Just tell us to leave? We’ll fight you to the death if we have to.”

“You’ll have to!” I cried, spurring my stag to ride closer and pulling my sword to attack him.

My father grabbed the reins to stop me. “We agreed to this parley! There’ll be time to kill him later.”

He turned back toward Hendris. “Very well, we offer this. We’ll let your people go—if Killian stays. I can get people to work the mines, but we need the city intact.”

“No!” Hendris cried. “That’s impossible.”

“Then we’ll kill you all to the last man, woman and child,” Larek said.

“Wait! Please, Bracca. I have a question!” Killian cried out.

“What question?” my father snarled back at him.

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