Page 60 of Our Vicious Oaths
Nychelle gripped his shoulder, stopping him. “No! Not just yet,” she cautioned. “You need to take a moment to surveil—”
“Fuck Rishaud and fuck the danger!” He cut off the reasons she’d throw at him for not crossing into the market at once. “If that bastard is somewhere nearby, I can handle whatever he dishes out,” he spat. He manifested shadows around him, commanded them to cling to his form and even his face, arrangingthem into body armor and a helmet of darkness that would swallow anything that came in contact with the pitch-black Void.
Nychelle sucked her teeth. However, whatever she saw in Malachi’s gaze kept her from protesting.
“Stay safe, cousin,” Trystin impressed upon him and then yanked out the knife sheathed at his hip. He sliced open his right palm and knelt, pressing his hand to the land. Malachi retained enough presence of mind to wait for as long as it took Trystin to chant an incantation that bent the physical land to his will and cause a torrential downpour to rip forth from the skies.
Once the rains began that he hoped like hell would extinguish a magical fire somewhat quickly, he rushed toward the burning market. His Cadre moved beside him without needing to be given the order, manifesting void armor of their own as they ran. Kadeesha was among their group rushing toward the epicenter of the blaze. When he sighted her in his periphery a few paces to his right, something within him recoiled at seeing her advancing toward danger. It was pure madness that he thought about the pregnancy, the babe of both their blood that she’d birth if she carried it to term. He inwardly flinched at the image of Kadeesha’s body charred beyond what a healer could repair. The intensity of the aversion that slammed into him like a battering ram was especially ludicrous given that she would be ending the pregnancy and he hadn’t expressed any dissenting opinion when she’d announced her desire. Whatever insanity he was going through, he shook it off. He couldn’t afford to be unfocused. Still, he couldn’t halt his head from swiveling to scrutinize the brightly glowing, near-blinding aether flames she’d locked in place around herself. He did, however, manage to curb the urge to test out the strength of her protective flames. He knew that Kadeesha could handle herself—he’d witnessedher strength and resilience and ferocity firsthand—and they didn’t have time for an unnecessary delay.
THE CITY’S MARKETattracted several hundred patrons on any given day, and that didn’t count the scores of traveling merchants and the locals who owned stalls, taverns, and boutiques. Plus that was for a regular day, and today it had been packed. Yet in total, they pulled out forty-two fae so far. Forty-fucking-two. That was the number, out ofhundreds, that they’d found among the burning buildings, melted stalls, and smoldering ruins of the market. Thank the skies, Trystin’s conjured rainstorm was successful in dousing the raging fires before they reached the residential sector. Still, it was a brutal reminder of Rishaud’s power—and viciousness.
Malachi let the healers and Yashira tend to those with injuries that would eventually heal, while he worked on those with wounds threatening to claim their lives, moving from one to another as quickly as he could. There were enough of those in the latter group that he appreciated the presence of Kadeesha and the rest of her squadron. It was impossible for Malachi to heal the many who’d sustained critical wounds at once, so the Aether fae flew those who might cling to life just a bit longer and survive the time in flight back to the palace, where healers had the full inventory of the royal infirmary’s apothecary at hand.
Even as he worked, his mind was a torrent of thoughts.Fuck. I’ve failed my court. I’ve failed everybody who’s been injured. Who has lost their lives.
Again.
It didn’t matter that he was ruling differently than his father had. The scores dead and the dozens injured ate away at him; it was a failure on the level of his father’s. Malachi had sworn never to repeat the former king’s mistakes, and yet here he was, knee-deep in one.
His eyes landed on Kadeesha. Stationed a considerable distance across the meadow, she tied a tourniquet around the thigh of a fae girl. The stripling was young; she appeared no more than about five years of age. She had dark copper skin, near the color of Kadeesha’s, and red ringlet curls. Kadeesha tended to the girl with the gentlest handling. Malachi must’ve been feeling particularly masochistic at the moment; it was the only excuse for seeking Kadeesha out on the heels of the miserable thoughts about his father’s shortcomings. He clenched his jaw and shoved memories of the previous king away. Today, however, they were especially obstinate. Churning thoughts about his father and how he’d died, how he’d allowed Malachi’s mother to be killed, stayed firmly planted in his mind. It was as if they’d decided to sprout roots and anchor themselves in the forefront of Malachi’s thoughts. And his hellish, treacherous thoughts didn’t stop there. He blinked, fighting with everything he had not to rock back on his heels when Kadeesha’s stature shifted. As Kadeesha knelt beside the young girl, her belly rounded, forming a clear bump beneath her flying leathers. Malachi blinked again. He knew it wasn’t real, that it was only his mind torturing him because his failure to prevent the deaths at the palace wall and now in the market was eating him up. He should’ve known the blast was coming beforehand. He should’ve known Rishaud had infiltrated the Cleric’s Rebellion. He should’ve fucking known that five of his own lord primes were conspiring with Rishaud and the treasonous clerics.
He should’ve known better than to tempt fate by bedding Kadeesha and giving in to the urge to mark her as his.
He also should’ve torn his gaze from Kadeesha already—he couldn’t be haunted by false images if he were not looking upon her. But, in the moment, he couldn’t turn away if his very life was tied to being successful. He knew,he knew, what she carried inside her womb currently wasn’t a life just yet; it wasn’t his unborn babe just yet. It was only the seed of perhaps something more to come. Or something that might never come to fruition on its own. Fae pregnancies were rare, with successful births even rarer. The healers had always postulated that faekind’s very immortality was the reason, some sort of cosmic population control that the Celestials must have put in place. Yet rationality wasn’t a strength he owned right then. His pulse kicked up a notch as past and present melded. Kadeesha was herself, but also the former Apollyon queen, who had been swollen with child—a girl—when she was slain. And Malachi, he was himself, but also his father—the Apollyon king who hadn’t been able to protect his queen and wife, nor his child. A great and vicious fury at his father’s past failure and at himself for his own present failures roared inside Malachi. The savage, castigating snarl that ripped free wasn’t directed at Rishaud—it was rage aimed at a pair of kings Malachi knew much more fucking intimately.
She’s ending the pregnancy. She wants to end it for her own reasons. So there will be no future child in need of protection.But the reminder brought Malachi no comfort. His gut still plummeted at the thought of Kadeesha’s own light, which burned so brightly and fiercely, being permanently extinguished by Rishaud or some other scheming fae who sought to remove her as a playeron the game board of crowns and power. That she was such a crucial part of the prophecy covered him in worry.
That she was now such a crucial part in hisownstory almost drove him to despair.
LATE THAT NIGHT, Malachi stood at the head of the strategy table that servants had hauled into the war room. It was an enormous piece that his great-great-grandfather had commissioned, the koppa wood table having become an heirloom handed down from Diamundis monarch to heir. The intricate map of his kingdom hand-carved into it by a master woodsmith had grown immensely over the millennia. Back when they were an archaic, rudimentary society that had broken away from their southern counterparts, the Apollyon Court would have only taken up a small portion of the table, consisting of only Cygrove and the wealth of caves within the border territory. But Malachi’s ancestors had grown the court into a lush, vibrant,thriving and expansivekingdom that sprawled across a much greater portion of the tabletop now—a portion that nearly rivaled the collective lands of the whole of the Six Kingdoms. While none of the Six Kingdoms had ever braved to venture into the wilds north of the Yunnas and tame the untamable, his ancestors had. His kingdom, his fellow Apollyonfolk, had stood on their own and burgeoned into a force that rivaled the united might and splendor of the Six Kingdoms. And Rishaud thought he could snuff it all out as easily as one squashed an insect. Malachi gripped the edges of the table, hands vibrating with renewedfury. A renewed need to annihilate everything that came for him and his. “We need to launch the invasion before the solstice. The sooner, the better,” he impressed the urgency onto his inner court.
“And we shall,” replied Nychelle. His auntie was perhaps the more enlightened and placid of the two of them, but, in this moment, she swore the vow with a viciousness that matched Malachi’s. His Cadre’s and Trystin’s demeanors mirrored the same. Kadeesha—she bore a stoic expression that Malachi couldn’t quite take the measure of.
“What are you thinking?” he asked Kadeesha directly because it annoyed him not to know.
Finally, she gave away some manner of emotion. A sour expression contorted her face. “I am thinking of how senseless war is,” she said quietly. “I am thinking of how when we monarchs fight, innocent fae are the ones who bleed. It is why the vassal kings had their armies lay down arms and bowed before Rishaud once before. At least those old rulers had something of a correct idea about what it means to lead and care about the folk you’re in charge of. So many lost their lives today, in part because of me. Perhaps if I just go to Rishaud … He’ll punish me, but he won’t kill me. He desires to collect me as a possession too much. If I let him, perhaps you can both agree to call off this madness so no more fae need to die.”
A black haze clouded Malachi’s vision at Kadeesha’s statement. He couldn’t decide what infuriated him more—her suggestion that she should let Rishaud have her or the ludicrous notion that he and Rishaud could ever come to any sort of accord. “None of that is fucking happening,” he let Kadeesha know. “You aren’t doing a damn thing that you don’t actually desire to do, and Rishaud and I will never be monarchs who establish atruce. We’ve been on a collision course for war since the day he had a hand in my parents’ murders. And even with that aside, Rishaud will never stop coveting my lands and its resources and looking for a way to possess them.” He gave Kadeesha a look. “Then there’s the prophecy concerning you. I think all prophecies are bullshit spun by clerics and others who seek to use the Celestials to further their own power, but that is beside the point. As long as you are alive, Rishaud has the means to further galvanize the Six Kingdoms and my own court behind him as the high king of Nimani. So he has to die because I won’t leave so great a threat around.”
He watched Kadeesha. Saw the moment she accepted the truth of everything he said. He even caught the moment defeat made her shoulders sag because he had to ball his own fists at his side to keep from reaching across the table and hauling her against his chest. However, that crushing defeat didn’t linger for long. It was there in one breath and then replaced in another by her trademark fire. The amber of her eyes was illuminated by violet flickers that blazed as hot as her aether flames. “If all-out war cannot be averted, what if there is still a way to minimize casualties on both sides?” she asked.
“Why the fuck do I care about casualties among the Six Kingdoms’ armies?” Malachi scoffed.
Kadeesha’s blazing stare shot daggers his way. “Youmay not care, but I do. Aether soldiers will be among those armies and I’ve had enough of a hand in the blood of my folk being spilled. I realize I’ve already sworn an oath to fight alongside the Apollyon Court—and no, I cannot go back on it now. But I do think that affords me some manner of say inhowthat fight occurs. In the acts I am to perform in service of that oath that will certainly be in direct opposition tomycourt.” She held her chinhigh when she proclaimed it, assuming the air of a queen issuing an indisputable decree.
You aren’t afforded adamnthing.The retort was on the tip of Malachi’s tongue. But then he once again irritatingly recalled how she’d compared him to Rishaud before. He was a fae king and had no qualms about ruling with supreme authority. He could accept the charge of tyrant if need be. But … Kadeesha’s unwavering and heated gaze screamed at him not to be a monster. To be marginally decent. Truly, he was ready for the coming war to be over and for Kadeesha to be back in her own infernal court because she kept screwing with his head. He inexplicably found himself inquiring, “What is this alternate route you’re suggesting?”
Kadeesha’s eyes widened like she hadn’t been expecting that response.Hell, neither was he.She cleared her throat. Then, an odd turmoil twisted her prepossessing features. She fell quiet for several seconds. Eventually, resolve shone in her eyes. Keeping a weighted stare fixed on Malachi, she said, “If we allow knowledge that I presently carry a child—your child—to travel beyond the people in this room, you can use Rishaud’s own ploys against him. He’s spent decades already cultivating fanaticism among the Six Kingdoms, and apparently your court too, that by virtue of his betrothal to me, he is the monarch ordained by the great Celestials to unite Nimani and rule as its high king. If those who hold power among the vassal courts—the monarchs and their high clerics—learn that you’ve sired a child upon me, then it will be relatively easy to strip Rishaud of the five dominion armies he’d wield against you and have the vassal monarchs swear allegiance to you as Nimani’s high kingbeforeyou invade Rishaud’s lands. So, when you do, it is only the Hyperion armythat yours will be battling against. Numbers will then be on your side, and it should turn any invasion into a swift victory while limiting the number of lives lost in the process.”
At first, Malachi could only blink. There weren’t many things that could render him speechless. The strategy Kadeesha presented left him thunderstruck. “This won’t work, though.”
“Why not?”
“Because you want to end the pregnancy,” he carefully reminded her. “If we use it as you advise, then you can’t terminate it. Any zealot monarch or high cleric who switches sides will seek confirmation, and if there’s no spark there, the game is over.”
The turmoil swirled greater within her gaze. But, again, she quashed it. “Then let there be a spark. While this is not something I want, the heinous amount of lives that may be lost otherwise is the issue of chief concern.” She paused, touched a hand to her belly, and then continued with “I have the beginnings of what will grow into a child of dual royal blood, just as the prophecy states. All that matters at the moment is that we can use it to get what we both seek. I can’t help but wonder if its timing and the interruption of my tea was by the great Celestials’ design so that it could be used for this very reason: avoiding a greater catastrophe.”
He scowled at the begrudging pitch to her words. Although he wasn’t sure why he was annoyed. She was correct: Her pregnancy—the fact that he’d sired a bloody child—could significantly reshape the interpretation of the very prophecy they were trying to avoid by stripping Rishaud of the role—and future—he claimed he’d play in it.
