Of Darkness and Crowns (15 page)

I shake my head, over and over. Denial. “But I healed Bax’s father. And
my
father.” And I’ve since practiced on the sick in the palace ward. Never attempting again to reverse madness to sanity—it weakened me too much. Because I’ve needed all my strength during this war. To find and help Caben.

But that’s not completely true.

In the Otherworld, as Bale grew stronger the closer the eclipse became, I remember questioning my own sanity. Rationalizing that I was thinking her thoughts, not my own. Hearing her. Praying it to be true—

And maybe it was.

“You did heal them,” Teagan says, lowering her hands, her focus solely on me. “But wasn’t it so much easier to gift madness? To punish them rather than to save them?”

“Go to hell.”

She laughs. “Oh, my lovely girl, we’re almost there.”

Then, to my utter confusion, she lowers herself to kneel on one knee. “I’ve served for a very long time, My Liege. Waiting for the day my goddess would be made whole again.” She bows her head. “As a true follower of Bale, it would be remiss of me to only serve one half of my goddess.”

♦
17
♦

Caben

A
S THE MORNING LIGHT
bleeds into the cracks of my eyes, I curse aloud, “Shit.”

Despite my vicious hangover, and the pounding in my head—the goddess stomping her figurative foot on my cerebrum—another pain pulses sharp and hot. Wiping the crusty sleep from one eye, I spot the source.

My palm is dotted and slashed with recent, angry damage. Cut into my skin is the design of wings encircling the goddess sun. The sight of it triggers a memory—one of talking to Bax last night—and I instantly shut it down. Instead, trying only to think of the moment when I scooped the emblem from the black earth of the Cage arena.

Kal’s protector insignia.

My token.

Welcome back, Prince.

Bale’s alluring voice sweeps through my mind with as little force as a hurricane.

“Did you miss me, my dark mistress?” Blinking my eyes a few times, I clear my blurry vision. Then I set to work bathing the funk of alcohol saturated skin from my body.

The hot water clears my head further, and Bale revels in claiming that space for herself once again.

We must know her exact location…soon. If she’s allowed to breach our legion’s borders, no amount of punishment will be enough.

“Yes, yes, Your Darkness.” Scrubbing my skin, I run the bar of soap over my forearm, down to my wrist. Then my hand. I massage the suds into the wound, enjoying the sting instead of wincing, as I hold on to the last of my will.

I’ve pushed it and the remnants of last night’s events into a pocket of my mind—one where only touching the emblem has allowed me to reserve for myself. Where the dark goddess can probe, but not fully enter. It’s not much, but it’s mine.

When I’m dressed in one of my black suits and cloak, striking and daring, bringing me back to my dashing self, I’m ready to take on the day. Into the fray, as my father would say. And down the loft ladder I go. Into the den. Ha. If only when I constructed my fortress, I’d had known how ironic that name would be.

Into the lion’s den! I want to shout.

A growl fills my head.
You’re losing mental stability, Prince.

I laugh. “What did you expect, My Queen? Isn’t insanity your specialty?”

A sudden, fierce image of Kal flashes in my mind. Her long hair falling over her bare shoulders, surrounding me, tickling my face, as she moves above…

I stop before reaching the common quarters of the treehouse, force my eyes closed. Palming my head, I say, “Those are not your thoughts, witch.”

You need them. Let them feed you. You’re becoming too weak.

I shake my head hard, then open my eyes and march toward the side office. Bypassing the Otherworlders mingling in the den.

Pushing the door open, I immediately halt in the entrance. Bax is shackled, one cuffed forearm strewn across his eyes, asleep. A fleeting memory tries to surface, but I tamp it down. I’m becoming exhausted already. The fight is wearing me out, and I’ve only been awake a little over an hour.

“This won’t do,” I mumble, making my way over to the cherry oak desk. To think, I never really cared for drinking before; didn’t like anything that dulled my senses. But now, I go for the bottle of liquor like I’ll spontaneously combust if I don’t get a taste soon.

A splintering pain shoots through my skull, stopping me mid-reach.

I loose a cry and grab my head. Through the slats of my eyes, I see Bax stir. Then he’s on his feet and his beady eyes are watching me intently. Conveying something he can’t say aloud. I shake off the pain and plop down on the couch, thoroughly vexed.

You’ve had plenty, princeling. No more. It weakens you physically, and you’ll need your strength today.

What I need is a gaping hole in my head.

Wondering if blocking out the dark goddess is worth the pain, I glimpse the bottle on the desk. How humiliating. A grown man who can’t even drink himself into a stupor if he wishes.

Shuffling sounds from outside the room. Bax backs against the wall. Then a loud rap has me on my feet and meeting Lake halfway.

“My Liege,” he says, winded. “Turn on the monitor. A live transmission from the Perinyian Court is being broadcasted.”

Through the haze of pain and annoyance, I can still appreciate Lake’s ability to speak like an educated human. Another reason why I tolerate him more than the others. Less stress to my depreciating “mental stability” when I don’t have to decode grunts.

He doesn’t wait for me, though. Even as he’s speaking, going on about the transmission, he’s at the monitor and flipping it on. Truly, I should always have it on, in case anything of importance on the war or my country is being displayed. But the lambent light increases my headaches.

Quiet your rambling thoughts, Prince. Pay attention.

I can hear the aggravation in Bale’s usual sultry tone. And I don’t filter my own thoughts before thinking how I’m unlikely to last another two days.

So, the mongrel has revealed much in my absence.

I bite down on my lip, as if my mouth is the cursed offender. “I thought my knowing would please you, My Goddess. Surely now we can stop our useless pursuit for the relic and its risky circumstance?”

She’s silent as I wait for my expected punishment. But soon I forget her altogether.

On the screen, Empress Iana stands upon a dais. I know the one. It’s where my father always gave his speeches. I’m angered that she, a woman of Cavan, has the nerve to address
my
people—until her words begin to process in my throbbing brain.

“Our alliance has always held strong,” the empress says. “We’ve banded together in the past, and as of recent, our countries stand together to fight dark forces that are threatening not only us, but all realms.”

Falling onto the couch, I let the bright light of the monitor wash her image over me. Bax is transfixed by her also. I admit, she’s commanding. For a woman ruler.

“Today, we hear your cries. Your pleas. We acknowledge your fear, for your children and yourselves. An evil has invaded our world, our lives. It threatens everything. We’ve heard your distress and now we, your leaders, come to you with an answer.”

She raises a hand and waves it to her left, and the loud boom of the palace doors opening sounds through the monitor. It makes my skin prickle with chills. Then, both countries’ councilors—minus one; our new ally, Teagan—guide a line of women onto the platform.

Bax pushes off the wall to stand closer to the monitor, his hands clamped tightly around the chains dangling from his wrists. “Prince…” he begins. Only his words die off as Empress Iana continues.

“The disgraced moon goddess, the banished goddess of mayhem and madness, has touched these women. Long ago, the Three Realms instated laws to protect us from such threats. Laws abolished once we were free of the dark goddess’s tyranny. But as that threat rises once again, these laws are being reinstated today. We will not live in fear of evil. We will not condone it. We will eradicate its existence.”

My eyes hone in on one figure—one woman who I would recognize anywhere. Although she’s dressed in plain white garb like the others, she stands apart. Her head held high, her silver hair—once the same dark color as mine—swept up into a neat twist. My mother.

I’m on my feet and storming toward the monitor as the empress says, “This evening, as the moon rises, we will cleanse this country of Bale’s influence.” She lifts her head, and I slam my fist into the wall beside the monitor. The screen shakes, hissing with static. “The madness will be executed and eliminated before all.”

Gripping the cold edges of the screen, I watch as she motions the guards. They raise their swords and herd—like a damn herd of cattle—the women and my
mother
toward a recently constructed cell behind the dais.

As the transmission comes to a close, the camera pans the crowd. Heated slurs and chants to
end the crazy women touched by Bale
filter through the speakers. Then fast flying fruit, I imagine rotten as hell, soars toward the makeshift cell.

The connection ends. A
bleep
. And I’m staring at a blank red screen.

“Fuck!”

My hands ignite white, and the monitor sparks. Fiery specs spray my face as I yank the damned thing from the wall. Ignoring the smoke curling into my eyes, I lift it above my head with a growl and slam it to the floor.

My chest heaves as I look down at the destruction.

The room is so silent I can hear Lake and Bax breathing. Vile things with their inhumanly large noses.

At least no one is dumb enough to say anything. Not even Bale. Not yet.

I need a moment to process what just happened.

It’s a trap
.

Squeezing my eyes closed, I bite down on my lip. Then, “I don’t want to hear your nonsense right now.”

Suddenly, a warmth rushes through my body, calming. Soothing. It travels through my limbs and up to my neck. Wraps a blanket of tranquility around me, and I slowly, effortlessly walk to the couch and sit.

There, Prince. Ease your mind
.

“What are you doing?”

But Bale doesn’t answer, only continues to send a steady stream of her unnerving relaxant through me.

I understand your distress, but you must listen. They are using your mother to bait you to them.

At hearing the dark goddess utter those words, a cramp seizes my chest. But it’s quickly eased away. I begin to think more clearly. They must be aware of the new moon. What it means.

They mean to trap us. Kill you, and capture me. We cannot play into their hands.

“Our
deal
,” I grit out past clenched teeth. “I was to retrieve my mother, and you get the restored relic. That’s the deal!”

You want so much, dear prince. Your mother. Kaliope. Your crown. Your power… I’ve made sacrifices. It’s time for you to choose what you’re willing to surrender.

Shaking my head, I laugh a mirthless laugh.

“Caben.”

This comes from Bax. It’s said so low, so direct, I almost hear my father’s voice. The Otherworlders have never called me by my name. Not my given, anyway. It forces me to look at him, my guard down.

He’s still clinging to his chains. “Did you happen to notice what was around the empress’s neck?”

I hike my eyebrows. “Unfortunately, no, Bax. Not while her lackeys were imprisoning my mother at sword point.”

He nods carefully. Smart mutant. “The shard, Prince. She wore the relic shard around her neck.”

I shake my head. “That no longer matters.” His eyes widen, but I brush off his alarm. “Bale knows, mutant. She’ll become corporal with or without the relic in less than two days, and I’ll finally be free, with more power.”

Sinking my hand into my pocket, I grasp the emblem, containing and shrouding my thoughts as much as possible. The cool metal grounds me, centers me, where I can hide what I know is to happen. Luckily, Bax comprehends this, and only nods again in response.

Then a realization hits me like a blow to the head. I stand and march toward Bax. Yank his chain and force him close. “We’ll offer a trade,” I say. The plot forms quickly. And I’m thankful, for now, for Bale’s calming touch. I’m able to think
almost
clearly. “I want my mother, and Kal wants you.”

Bax’s eyes widen. “That could’ve very well been an excellent plan, My Liege. But you are forgetting one thing. The Nactue leader, I’m sure by now, has very little say.” I release his shackles, and he straightens his shoulders. “If you don’t believe me, send a scout. Or use your inside connection. Kal’s probably as much a prisoner of Perinya as your dear mother.”

I hear Bax’s voice suddenly—
danger
.

A wisp of a memory—only allowed to bleed into my thoughts briefly before I shut it out—reminds me of this. Kal’s in danger. From her own people.

“Lake,” I say, taking a backward step away from Bax. I glance at my number one. “Send in a scout. Have them make contact with Councilor Teagan. Find out what the hell is going on.”