Page 2 of A Deception of Courts

How many Icethorn fey had been captured because of my family’s death? If I’d returned to Wychwood, I would’ve been taken to my court only to find it empty and void of existence. Because they were here. In Lockinge, buried beneath the ground with iron cuffs around their necks.

I was a king now. Whether I completely believed it or not, it had to mean something. If not to myself, then to the people who relied on me to save them.

My mistakes and grief had led me to this place. I refused to leave it without taking what was rightfully mine.

“You came back for me. What I am doing for those in the Below does not differ from your choice of always standing by my side.”

Althea kept pace at my side, boots slapping into puddles of Altar knows what. “I know. Which is precisely the reason I have not snatched you by the short and curlies and dragged you back to Wychwood against your will. Thisisthe right decision. Dangerous, yes. Slightly fucking stupid, but excellently planned, also yes.”

“Your mother is going to kill me when we get back, isn’t she?” I exhaled, mind flashing to Lyra Cedarfall, who was a projection of what Althea would look like in the years to come. Burning red hair, eyes glowing with authority.

My comment was not made to make Althea laugh, but it did. She released a gleeful bark into the night, throwing her head back as she did so. “Not if you are successful. It is not her you should be concerned with anyway. Gyah will ruin you if this all goes wrong. She has grown rather protective of me since our short and unpleasant stay in Finstock.”

I found that Althea spoke of Gyah a lot. As though her mind was occupied with her personal guard, a feeling I understood well. It warmed my stomach, watching how Althea’s face would brighten at the mention of the Eldrae. Her admiration was abundantly clear across her expression whenever Gyah’s name crossed her lips.

“Remind me to keep poking at what’s going on between you both,” I said. “When this is all over.”

Althea punched a fist into my shoulder, even gently her strength was paramount. “If we survive, then I may just tell you all the juicy details. On the agreement of a trade with the details about you and yourHunter.”

“Duncan,” I corrected for the hundredth time. I’d yet to hear Althea call him by his name, always referring to him as the title we first met him under.

“Yes, General Rackley, which… speaking of the devil.”

My heart lodged in my throat as two shadows peeled from the wall of a building ahead of us. We slowed, hesitant at what waited before us. If it wasn’t for Lucari, who swooped down from a great height and perched on the shoulder of the shorter figure, I would’ve thought they were a threat, when in fact, they were both the complete opposite.

In my eyes, at least.

Wooden shutters flapped in the icy winds, groaning and screeching on hinges that wouldn’t survive the night. Plaster crumbled away in patches, littering the cobbled street beyond it with snow-like mounds of worn paint and brick dust. The abandoned building didn’t look like much else compared to the darkened homes which leaned on it from either side. There was no marker to suggest it was one of the many burrows the Asps used as a place for hiding and scheming. Not so abandoned after all. But after tonight, it would never be used for anything again.

I thought of the thin, tired mattress floors above us. It’d been rolled out beside a cracked oil lamp within one of the top rooms of the building. I felt no love lost for the idea of it going down in flames. Literally. I thought of the down-turned mirror, which had gathered dust since our first night. Since seeing Duwar, I found looking into mirrors difficult now. Each time I passed one, I expected to see a molten, horned god staring back at me. Thankfully, Duncan made sure this was one less concern by removing the few that’d been hanging within our base.

One of the many things Duncan had done for me.

“Any sign from the castle yet?” I spluttered, practically falling into the outstretched arms of Duncan. He held me close, my cheek pressed into the leather belts strapped across his chest in three lashings.

It was dark within the shadow of the building. Not even the moon dared to provide me with enough light to see him in all his glory. So I used the rest of my senses to admire him. I inhaled deeply, allowing a moment to convince myself it was only him and me with no needs and wants. If I kept my eyes closed long enough, I could’ve pictured us during another time, another moment. One which didn’t include the impending doom of what the night was to bring.

“Not yet.” Duncan’s deep voice rumbled through his chest and into mine. “However, Seraphine has confirmed the Hand has left Lockinge. But until the signal reaches us from inside the castle, we must wait. It’s imperative that Aldrick is far away if we dare hope for success.”

I pulled away from Duncan and looked back up toward the ugly outline of the castle far ahead. There was a tower which reached skyward, far taller than any other beside it. The point flirted with the dark clouds, which, now and then, would conceal the pointed tip from view.

As Duncan had already confirmed, the tower was dark. My sight might’ve been stronger if my blood was full fey, but I could still make out the slit-like etchings across the tower’s walls. Windows. Dark and lifeless. Much like the rest of the castle had been since the night when Doran’s gryvern attacked. Part of me had hoped Aldrick’s silence resulted from the fact he had died beneath the mirror Seraphine had pushed atop him.

But our intel suggested otherwise.

Aldrick was a weak, crazed man. His power was to leech into minds, smothering will and control. His magic was strong as a web woven from iron, rendering anyone he desired completely powerless. He could enthral us all if we got close enough again, which was why it was essential to my plan that Aldrick left Lockinge before we snuck back inside.

I buzzed with nerves. Not wishing to even blink for fear that I would miss the tower glow with firelight in signal.

“We are perhaps a couple of hours away from Wychwood ships reaching us,” Kayne warned, expression stiff. Lucari lowered her beak and dropped something small into his hand. “If anyone else catches wind that an armada of fey ships are hidden on horizon of the human capital, it will spark a frenzy before we have a chance to even begin.”

I looked Kayne dead in the eyes every time he spoke, which was rarely. There was still trepidation in the way he looked at me. Unlike Duncan, Kayne’s years of brainwashing had yet to vacate his gaze. We were close, but more time was needed. No matter if he may have believed he hid it well from me, he was wrong. Trust went both ways, after all.

I’d shared my concern about Kayne with Duncan, who’d planted a kiss upon my forehead and promised me his friend could be trusted. Until he proved otherwise, I would have to let the red-haired Hunter prove himself to our cause. I couldn’t deny that his skills as a Tracker had been essential in getting us this far. Without Lucari and Kayne’s knowledge of the city, we wouldn’t have heard the whispers suggesting Aldrick prepared to leave Lockinge.

But his involvement didn’t mean that the moment I felt he was a threat, no matter his friendship with Duncan, Iwoulddestroy him. The wary glint in Duncan’s dark emerald stare spoke volumes. He understood that, and didn’t waste breath arguing against it.

“Show me what has been sent,” I said, trying to keep the harsh command from being too prevalent in my voice.

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