“What is it?” Cerys’ voice trembles. She braces herself, rubbing her arms. She can’t be cold, the silver suit that helped her breathe underwater keeps her warm, too. It must be adrenaline that shakes her body.
“The tracks,” I realize as I straighten up the bars again, to give us cover. I examine the surroundings with narrowed eyes, then I turn to the dark tunnel, my pupils becoming slits. The tunnel resembles a long dark stone pipe, the walls coated with ice. I activate the power in my skin, and close my eyes, tracing the inside structure of the castle with my senses.
“Damn it.” The place is as big as my castle in the Fire Realm, and even fuller. I suppose it makes sense. Ever since he got married, Lysander has had a more intense social life than me. His wife is Arielle the Sea Queen, which is probably why I pick up sea magic energy in the castle. Many of the guests here must come from her side, plus there are mixed armies and courts. There’s a feast up in the Throne Hall, I can smell it from here. That screws things up. I need to get Lysander alone, and that might be impossible under the circumstances.
Something moves at my feet, drawing my attention. It’s Nazarean, staring up at me from the level of my boots with slit green eyes, his tail brushing over my legs. The vibe he gives me is unmistakable.
“You want to help?”
He meows.
“All right. Can you feel your way through the catacombs?” Not that I can’t do it myself, but with his help I’ll be able to focus my energies elsewhere.
He purrs and moves forward, padding along the tunnel. I take Cerys’ hand and start after him, my pointy ears feeling for the inner structure of the rock and the palace. Few people know, but that is what we use our pointy ears for. They are instruments that serve higher senses.
A shiver runs through Cerys, sending current up my arm. She braces herself with one arm, while her little hand holds on tightly to mine.
“What are you afraid of?” I whisper, my breath steaming the air. “The worst thing that can happen is getting caught, and that wouldn’t be a bad thing for you. You used to fight on Lysander’s side, he would never hurt you.”
“Believe it or not, I don’t want him to hurt you either.”
Her words sound like truth, which puts a bitter taste in my mouth. I don’t want to believe her, I don’t even want to care if she still has feelings for me.
“We need to find him, and we need to find him alone,” I tell her. “Fast. It won’t be long until the patrols find our tracks in the snow. They’ll know people have infiltrated the castle, and it will make our mission even harder.”
“Then let’s do it my way.”
“Your way?”
“Yes. We find a good hiding place for you, and I go talk to him.”
I bare my teeth like a wolf. “Yeah, sure. Because you proved so trustworthy so far. You’re gonna talk to Lysander all right, but you’ll only do it in my presence.”
Something clangs somewhere close, and I yank her to me, hiding in an alcove in the wall, covering her mouth with my hand. Nazarean joins us, ducking between Cerys’ ankles.
“We must be close to the dungeons,” I breathe into her ear. A tremble runs through her. Cursed realms. There’s no mistaking that reaction. It turns her on, being in my arms like this, feeling my breath on her skin. What the fuck is going on here?
Nazarean meows, the sign that we can move on, and my senses tell me the way is clear as well. I let Cerys go like she burns me, basically pushing her from my arms. She spins around, her luminous honey eyes throwing daggers at me. Here, in the darkness of the catacombs, the glow of her irises and her silver suit could give us away. I turn my back to her, shielding her.
“Stay behind me. You shine like a beacon.”
Nazarean leads the way, his senses and mine working together seamlessly, smoothly. I grit my teeth. His acceptance of me is a dead giveaway that my feelings for her aren’t as negative as they should be. Will I even be able to punish her when this is over? Realms, how I wish I could just punch a wall, splinter the thick ice coating, watch it fall in chunks to the ground, smashing against the floor. I need an outlet for this frustration, and I need it soon, otherwise I’ll lose my mind.
I force myself to think about how Cerys has brought doom over us all by giving herself over to Samael, and driving him as crazy about her as she drove me. She brought death and destruction upon my people, a people who accepted her as their queen, and celebrated our union with respect and hope.
“The only way into the castle from here is through the dungeons,” I say as we reach the first primitive-looking stairs towards the upper level. We climb carefully, and I bring us to an abrupt stop. I draw us behind a corner as I eye a pair of guards at the end of a corridor. There is a row of prison cells on one side, with white, ghostly hands reaching out through the bars, moans and stench filling the air.
“See,” I tell Cerys. “He’s no better than me. He keeps his prisoners in even worse conditions than I do.”
She peers around me into the corridor, her eyes widening and darting from the guards to me. I run my tongue over my elongating fangs, already seeing in my mind’s eye how I’m going to attack them like a beast from the dark, pinning them under me. I have to be careful to not crush their glittery silver armor in the process, the reason why their fate is sealed.
They walk closer, running the hilts of their swords over the bars, adding clamor to the gut-wrenching moans of Lysander’s prisoners. The bigger one grins, and slashes one of the prisoner’s forearm, tearing an agonizing cry from the creature. My skin crawls. I want to look back at Cerys, daring her to say another good thing about the Winter Realm and the creatures in it. They can be just as cruel as us in the Fire Realm, or maybe worse. My people rarely do gratuitous harm, like this piece of shit right here, and when they do I make sure they are severely punished.
I span like a bow, hands on the leather-coated hilts of the throwing daggers strapped around my torso. I’d prefer to get physical and crush them, but I can’t. I’m about to throw the daggers whipping through the air directly into their throats, but at the last moment Cerys grabs my arm, pulling me back.
“What in the cursed realms are you doing?” she breathes, her cheeks red. Her blood must be racing like crazy through her veins. “You’re not going to kill them.”
“We left tracks in the snow, Cerys,” I hiss through my teeth. “We need their armor and their weapons in order to pass as guards.”
“But you can’t just take these people’s lives.”
I bare my teeth, bending down to her, barely able to control my fury. “They’re not exactly innocents, as you’ve surely noticed. But still you think they’re more worthy than a fire fae, especially me, don’t you? I’m worse than the devil in your eyes, worse than Samael. You would rather they took my life, wouldn’t you?”
“Realms, no, how can you say that?” she shrieks. She gasps, slapping her hand over her mouth, her eyes blasting wide as she realizes what she’s done. But it’s too late, the guards have heard her. The smaller one, a man with the eyes of a hawk, has been peering into the darkness this whole time anyway, ever since his colleague cut the prisoner’s arm.
The next scene happens too fast for Cerys to comprehend. I press myself against the wall and let them round the corner, drawn to the glow radiating from Cerys’ silver suit. Convinced she is the threat lurking in the shadows, they launch at her with their swords drawn. They stop when they’re only inches away from her, glancing one last time at each other confused before I cut the first one’s throat from behind.