Page 3 of Song of Night

I receive several strange looks. We’ve been cut off from the rest of the world for so long that almost no one knows the names I’m using. All we have known for more than two centuries is Night.

“This all happened probably four hundred years ago,” I say. “More than a century before I was born. The resulting war went on for so long that eventually it caused unrest within our own borders. The four houses that had once shared this land peacefully began to fight amongst themselves, bickering over war strategy and which house had lost the most warriors.”

“But what is Vyrin?” Ellielle leans forward across the table, her frenetic energy palpable in the air, her eyes bright. “Is he like us? From one of the five races?”

My eyes meet Kieran’s for the briefest of moments across the table. It’s not missed by the angel, however.

“What?” Ellielle hisses. “You know something of this, too, Kieran?”

“Not as much as Asher, but I remember the tales as a child.” Kieran pauses a moment, shifting in his chair. “Vyrin claims that his race is the original line… and that all of us descend from him.”

Everyone around the table stiffens, varying shocked expressions on their faces.

“And what race, pray tell, is that?” Ellielle growls.

“The Fae,” I say softly.

Silence falls for several long moments, and I can feel everyone’s hearts beating, the blood racing in their veins. Because tales of fae have been passed down for centuries… every child hears them growing up. Tales of their magic and their cruelty and their wicked souls.

“But… it can’t be true, can it?” Ellielle asks, looking around the table for someone to correct me.

I shrug. “I don’t know, and honestly, I don’t care. Truth or fiction, he used that claim as his reason for declaring war on Illiare, which he claimed to be rightfully his. And it’s that war that led to this day: our four houses trapped for the last two centuries within the boundaries of the Waste, fighting amongst ourselves just as treacherously as Vyrin fought against us before.” I smile, grim and without mirth. “Fae or not, it is clear our people share the same lust for bloodshed.”

“So, his magic, then, Vyrin—”

“It is unlike any power I’ve ever witnessed.” I blink a moment, lost in contemplation. We’ve been trapped within Night for so long that Vyrin had all but vanished from my memory. I’d forgotten, because I have been the most powerful thing in existence the last two centuries. Until Zara came along, of course. “I once witnessed him in battle…he has power more vast even than my own.”

“You mean, the power you once had,” Kieran says, his words blade-edged.

“Right you are.” I nod and pin a burning gaze on Ellielle. “Thanks to you, for creating and then detonating the magical weapon I warned you not to use. We are now facing the greatest threat our people have ever encountered and I am without an ounce of magic because of your foolish pursuit of power.”

Ellielle stands, her jaw tighter than a drawn crossbow. “I think, my lord, that perhaps you need some blood. You seem rather on edge.”

I stand, too, my gaze sweeping between her and Kieran. “I’m the one thing that could have saved us against this threat. The two of you plotted against me, and I hope you can see that you dug your own grave. Now you can go rot in it for all I care.”

“Asher!” Ellielle snaps. “A word in private?”

She spins and leaves the room, stepping into a narrow passage covered partially by thick velvet curtains. I don’t hide the growl that rumbles through my chest as I follow her. I shove through the curtain and see Ellielle standing a dozen paces down the hall in a shadowy alcove. Stalking toward her, I clench and unclench my fists. I’m so mad it’s a good thing I don’t have my magic right now, or this whole tower would be nothing but a pile of rubble.

“Why did you detonate the weapon?” I snarl.

“You’re in no position to be demanding answers—or anything else from me,” Ellielle snaps, her wings flaring out.

“On the contrary.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m the only one our enemy will parlay with, so, magic or not, I’m the only one who can save this city. Now answer my question.”

The angel glares at me a moment. “The weapon malfunctioned. It wasn’t supposed to detonate at all.”

“Not surprising. I warned you not to trap the wild magic like that.” I pace back and forth across the hall, fury boiling in my blood. “If what you say is true about annihilating my warriors, I will let King Vyrin take this place and I will watch you all burn.”

“The battle still rages on as we speak,” Ellielle says. She pauses for a long moment. “Perhaps we can make some sort of arrangement.”

I stop pacing. “What sort of arrangement?”

“The one you so rudely refuted the first time I asked.” She pins me in a gaze sharp enough to cut diamonds.

My mouth falls open. “You still wish to be married? After everything that’s happened?”

“I would rather cut out my heart with my own dagger than marry you, Asher,” Ellielle says softly, eyes glowing. “But now, more than ever, Night needs unity. We cannot face this threat from Cyrena without it. Houses Angelus and Daemonium together, however, stand a chance.”

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