Page 113 of A Deception of Courts

Aldrick. He reached out for my mind, looking to unveil our secrets before we reached him. But, unlike before, his presence was only a brush of a feather. I could picture the tendrils of fingers prodding and poking, but this time I was in control. In fact, it was an almost pleasant feeling. The Mariflora worked, just as the Asps promised. It kept my mind as my own, allowing Aldrick to only grace it as a visitor, rather than invade it completely.

Duncan turned his head slightly. Through the slit in his helmet, I saw his eyes grace me. He felt Aldrick, too.

“I would’ve expected Rinholm to be a fortress,” Duncan said, speaking on something I hadn’t noticed yet. “Where are the rest of our numbers?”

He was right. Rinholm was empty. The further we walked, the more I expected to see walls of Hunters, but there was barely a soul in sight.

“Is that bitterness I sense? Are you pissed that you’ve not been trusted as one of his chosen?” the Hunter retorted with a snort. “Maybe the delivery of the Icethorn boy will put you in his good graces, and you’ll be given a new purpose – initiate.”

“That would be an honour,” Duncan replied.

“What if Rinholm is attacked?” I asked. “Shouldn’t the Hand be more protected in case of a fey invasion?”

“Have you not seen the fucking monsters the Hand has collected?” Although his tone dripped with sarcasm, the Hunter looked at us like we were stupid. “The Draeic protect him. The only fey that grace these halls are dead ones.”

My blood chilled to ice. I tightened my hands to fists, the leather gloves squeaking beneath the force.

“I thought he would’ve kept the fey close, considering he needs their blood to give us power,” I said, mind whirling quickly to come up with something to say without prying too obviously. “He promised me magic if I brought Robin… the Icethorn key to him. Doesn’t he need the blood of the fey to give it to me?”

“The Hand gives us all the opportunity to be changed,” the Hunter replied as the group ahead slowed before two closed doors. They were made from carved wood, depicting all different types and shapes of wood-toned flowers. Much like the main gate we’d entered through, it was clear the decoration continued inside the castle. Even the muddied, worn carpet we trod across had peonies woven in shades of blue, pink and purple. “Don’t worry, the Hand keeps his prisoners elsewhere, but close enough.”

If the missing and captured fey weren’t in Rinholm, then Althea and the rest of them had been brought here for no reason.

I’d put them in more danger. We had plans to stop Aldrick, whilst they found Jesibel and the other fey and got them to safety.

There was no time to dwell on the panic as the doors before us creaked open. Sudden light blinded me from within the room ahead. I lifted a hand to my brow just to shade my eyes from the sudden burst of it.

“Enter,” a meek voice croaked through the glare. “Enter.”

The second command filled my mind. It was strong and forceful, but it did little to move my legs. My will was my own. If it wasn’t for Duncan, who stepped forward, I would’ve likely stayed rooted to the spot, revealing that Aldrick’s magic didn’t work on me.

“Master,” Duncan’s voice carried, sharpening my senses. “We have arrived, as promised.”

The Hunters who carried Kayne’s glamoured body entered the room first. Their rushed footsteps echoed across the smooth stone floor like the pattering of rain. I forced my chin up as I followed them. Duncan hung back until I was at his side. It took great restraint not to reach out and clasp his hand.

Lucari screeched with glee and launched herself into the air. I let go of the leash and allowed her to be free, glad for the itching of magic that quickly returned. I watched as she glided toward Aldrick at the far end of the grand room. From the folds of heavy woollen blankets rested across his lap, he lifted an aged, thin arm which shook violently as he welcomed the hawk.

I heard his broken, gravelly voice greet the hawk, fussing over her. But their reunion mattered little as I cast my attention around the room. Drinking in my surroundings was important to what was to come.

A room of mirrors. Daveed had said it, but I’d never imagined such a place until seeing it with my own eyes. Every wall and even the ceiling had been covered with mirrors. All different shapes, designs and sizes fit together like a puzzle until little of the original stone was left visible. I tried not to stare at my reflection as I paced toward Aldrick. I was faced with hundreds of Kayne’s faces reflecting back at me from all sides, the mirrors revealing every inch of my stoic expression, one that didn’t belong to me.

“He returns to me, my most trusted warrior. How I have looked forward to seeing you. My son found his way back to me and comes bearing the greatest gift of all.”

I stopped just shy of the throne and bowed until I faced the floor. “Master, we’re sorry for the delay. Turned out the fey weren’t too happy with my deception.”

“I imagined as much,” Aldrick said, taking in a rasping breath. His throat clicked as though it was filled with sharp stones. “It is I who should bow to you, Kayne. But alas, my body is not as forgiving as yours.”

By the time I straightened, Aldrick was frowning at the dead body carried in the Hunters’ arms.

“I would have liked to have been there to watch the life drain from that boy’s body.” Aldrick stopped talking aloud. Instead, he forced his piercing will into my head. As before, when he spoke with his mind, the voice brimmed with clarity and boomed with youthful strength. The far opposite of how his physical form portrayed itself.

“At least I will be present as his blood drains until he is left as nothing more than a husk, with not a drop to spare.”

“I will also enjoy watching that,” I said. “Very much so.”

Aldrick was swaddled within a cocoon of blankets. They pooled around the throne he sat upon, shrinking him into a weak image of the man I’d last seen. Wrinkled skin hung from his bone-sharp face like sun-dried scraps of leather. His eyes were glassy and distant as he looked at me. Across the little skin that he didn’t hide beneath his coverings, I recognised the faint lines of scars. Marks that hadn’t been there before. Likely gifts left from when Seraphine pushed the gilded mirror atop him during our escape from Lockinge all those weeks ago.

“One of many rewards I will grant you,” Aldrick said through a scowl that deepened the many wrinkles marring his face.

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