Page 87 of King of Immortal Tithe (Darkmourn Universe 2)

“Let them go,” Faenir spoke coldly, waving a hand in dismissal. “I have no patience to entertain the minds of fools. Their decision is not important. What is to be done will be done regardless if they stand for me or against me.”

The ground rumbled as Gildir flexed his hand. His power over earth echoed across the room. Glasses clinked against plates. Food toppled from their piles and rolled across the table before disappearing onto the floor. “Careful, Faenir, that sounds an awful lot like a threat.”

“A promise,” I spat before Faenir could gather his shadows again. “Why did you bother coming if you were never willing to listen to what we had to say in the first place?”

“It was not for the wine,” Gildir sneered.

“Then what?” I persisted, noticing how Frila pulled back at Gildir’s arm as though to stop him.

Gildir puffed out his chest, smiling down his narrow nose as his eyes trailed me up and down. “What makes you so special? That is what I wish to know.”

He did not need to explain further what he meant. Suddenly, I recognised Faenir and his closeness, his touch, how it lingered across my body from the last time he had worshipped me.

“All these years and the bodies Faenir has left in his wake, yet you resist it. Why?” Gildir looked to Myrinn and smiled; it was only for a moment. I followed his gaze to find Myrinn looking defeatedly at her empty plate. There was a glint of amusement that passed across his eyes, one that suggested he asked a question when already knowing the answer; Myrinn seemed to confirm it.

My hand edged towards the knife upon the table. I would slit this man’s throat before he said another word.

He knows. He knows.

“Is it fate… Arlo? Or something more tangible?”

A ruckus sounded beyond the closed doors to the dining room. My knees could have given way as the attention was quickly diverted away from me. Raised voices and the thundering of heavy footfalls grew in volume. I looked towards the doors the moment before they burst open. They slammed against the walls, shaking the dust from the rafters.

A huddle of figures raced in. Ana was at the head, tired face hollowed in horror. Something was wrong, that was clear before her rushed voice spoke. “There is a fire!” Ana shouted at the table of royalty, not caring who she disturbed; I loved that about her. “In the apartments for the serving staff. We tried to stop it… they are still in there.”

As she explained what was going on, I noticed the smudging of ash across her face. The others behind her, panting and breathless, showed signs that they too had been close to flames, cheeks red and skin marked with soot.

“How did it start?” I asked, unsure if she could hear me over the others shouting.

“Lightning. The storm worsens. A bolt struck the building.” Ana looked from me to Faenir, her eyes filling with tears. “Children, there are children stuck inside.”

Faenir was moving for the door before Ana had the chance to finish. I raced after him, only to be stopped by his firm hand. “No, Arlo. Leave this to me.”

I could not refuse him as Myrinn placed a hand on my shoulder, nodding to Faenir in agreement. “I will look after him. Go.”

“The fire, I can stop it. Allow me to help.” Haldor was beside Faenir in a blink.

To my surprise, the short frame of Frila joined them too. Her face was void of humour and as serious as the rest of her family. “I will join you both.”

Faenir did not waste a moment in accepting or refusing Frila’s offer of aid. He was angry, not stupid. Instead, he looked back at me, planted a kiss on my forehead, and whispered a promise, “Stay safe. I will return for you soon.”

Myrinn hugged my shoulders as we watched them rush from the room.

“Well, well,” Gildir’s voice drawled behind us. “It would seem we have some much-required time to discuss some matters.”

I could hardly stand how placid he sounded as my mind was filled with the flashing of fire and storm. In the back of my head, I heard the screams of those trapped; they haunted me as I turned my attention back to Gildir. “Why am I not surprised you have not offered to help?”

Gildir smiled, oddly calm, considering what was happening beyond the room. He took his seat, kicking his feet up and resting them on the table, and snatched his glass of wine back. “Because that, human, was never part of the plan.”

FAENIR

Frozen sheets of rain hammered down upon me; it stung at my skin, tore at my cheeks and face as I ran towards the fire. My clothes drenched through within moments of leaving the confines of the manor. I bit down on the cold ache that made a home in my bones. My discomfort was an afterthought.

Dark flames towered into the storm-cursed sky.There was nothing that could have prepared me for the destruction. It was both terrible and beautiful. Fire devoured the serving staff’s quarters, wood and stone no match for the power of the wild element.

Not days before had I been kneeling before a child in one of those rooms. I glanced in the direction of Ana and May’s apartment and saw nothing but flames dancing proudly beyond charred, glassless window frames. Haldor and Frila kept pace at my sides as we reached the blaze. I was thankful for their company. My power was great, but I had my limits. There was nothing my shadows could have done to stop this.

“Nyssa,” I cursed the Goddess’s name above the rain. “Help them.”

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