“We have many guards from all over the realms,” Orin said with a wave back at his men.
“I know,” Del growled.
Orin had the nerve to chuckle.
“Remember Lexi,” Brokk cautioned Del.
“That’s the only reason he’s still alive,” Del said.
“Do you think you could take me, vamp? You were the one in my cell after all,” Orin taunted.
“I was knocked out and half dead when you took me,” Del retorted.
“Exactly. You were weak enough to get captured,” Orin said.
Right then, Brokk knew Orin was itching for a fight. He didn’t know why; maybe it was because Orin enjoyed the fight, or maybe it was guilt for what he’d done to Del and Lexi.
Orin was not one for guilt and wouldn’t know how to handle it. This could be his way of reacting to it.
The more Brokk considered it, the more likely that was the reason for Orin’s abrasiveness. His brother was always unlikeable, but this was a bit much, even for him.
Del seemed to realize this too as, instead of going for Orin, he relaxed and started to laugh. Orin shot a look over his shoulder, but Del wasn’t paying attention to him as he examined the prison walls.
When they got to the end of the hall, Orin opened another steel door to reveal a set of stairs stretching into the darkness above. The thick, gray walls enclosed around them, and their steps were silent on the rocky steps. The airflow became stifled as they climbed and climbed until sweat beaded Brokk’s brow, his lungs burned, and his legs ached.
He wiped away his sweat with the back of his forearm as he cursed this place and his brother. Then the scent of fresh air finally drifted to him. A cooling breeze carried it; he relished it as it dried the sweat coating him.
He had no idea how far they’d climbed until they stepped onto a balcony overlooking the rocky, barren, outer realm. They towered over the world below, and he imagined this was what it was like to look into the Grand Canyon.
He’d enjoyed the breeze in the hallway, but he loathed this howling wind whipping around him as it drowned out any other sounds, blew back his hair, and plastered his clothes to him. He glanced behind him at the open doorway, but it remained empty.
The balcony towered over the craggy, black rocks and deep, gray canyons of the outer realm. And at the far end of the balcony stood his brother Varo.
Chapter Forty-One
For a second, Brokk’s heart leapt, and joy filled him at the sight of his brother’s familiar black hair and slender frame. That frame was a lot thinner now than the last time he saw him, but that didn’t surprise him.
None of the light fae were doing well since the war… or at least that was the rumor. No one had seen much of the immortals who opted out of the war. In doing so, they incurred the wrath of those who fought it.
Varo was only half light fae, but he’d always been the more caring and tender of his brothers. He’d chosen to fight and endure the consequences of that fight, but then, they all had.
Varo stood with his head bowed and his hands around the banister. Brokk sensed the pain radiating from him, but whether it was from the world, those imprisoned below them, or from lack of feeding, Brokk didn’t know.
When Orin started toward him, Brokk and Del followed. They were only a few feet away, and Varo still hadn’t realized they approached.
Brokk didn’t know if it was the wind or if lack of feeding had weakened him, but something hid their approach from Varo, and he didn’t like it. Varo should have sensed them by now.
“Varo!” Orin shouted over the wailing wind, and it still didn’t carry. Cupping his hands to his mouth, Orin yelled. “Varo!”
Varo’s shoulders stiffened before relaxing a little. He took a deep breath and turned to face them. His mouth was open as if he were about to speak, but whatever he was going to say died on his lips as he froze. Sorrow and joy flickered through the depths of Varo’s white-blue eyes.
“Brokk,” Varo said, and the wind barely carried the word to him.
Brokk heard the yearning in that one word and felt an answering tug at his heart. Varo wasn’t like the rest of them; he never had been. The war would have ravaged him almost as much as it did the human realm.
But he’d sided with Orin, probably because he hoped to stop the misery spreading across the land. He’d failed; they all had, and now more than half their brothers were dead, and the remaining ones were on the verge of killing each other.
Not Varo, though. He had chosen his side, but if he’d ever encountered one of his brothers on the battlefield, he wouldn’t have drawn his sword against them, and he wouldn’t fight them now, either.
“Varo,” Brokk greeted.
He wanted to embrace his brother but couldn’t find it in himself to move. Varo stared at him for a minute before bowing his head. When the silence spread and Varo’s sadness deepened, Brokk knew he had to end it.
“We might have a way to save you and Orin,” he said. “We need you to come with us.”
Chapter Forty-Two
“Are you sure about drinking that?” Lexi asked as Cole uncorked the bottle of healing potion Sahira gave him.
He paused with the bottle halfway to his mouth before drinking the contents down. The anxiety on her face kept him from telling her that his chest was on fire. It would only distress her more.
He recorked the bottle and set it on the table to the left of the portal they’d emerged from. Torigon’s ears twitched as he surveyed Cole’s room with the same aplomb that he surveyed a battlefield.
“She’s not going to do anything to hurt us,” Cole assured Lexi as he cupped her cheek and drew her closer. “She did what she did to protect you; she won’t do anything to stifle me as it wouldn’t do you any good.”
If she did, she’d regret it.
But Sahira wasn’t that foolish.
“I have to talk to Niall, and I’m sure the council, or what remains of them, will descend on the palace soon. They’re going to be thrilled to learn I’m putting Brokk in Durin’s place on the council, but they will not be picking his replacement.”
She didn’t say anything as she rested her hands against his chest. With tender hands, she lifted his tunic. He didn’t stop her; the potion was already taking the edge of the ache in his chest, but if he didn’t let her look, it would only upset her more.
Carefully, she peeled away the bandage. “Oh, Cole,” she breathed.
“They’re healing.”
She put the bandage back in place before walking around him to examine the one on his back. With a sigh, she taped that bandage back into place too. “They’re swollen and red; you’ve irritated them.”
He clasped her hands against his chest and looked down at the wound. “And the potion is already helping them.”
She grunted in response, and he slipped the remaining potion into his pocket.
“Come on,” he said and tugged his tunic back down. “Let’s get this taken care of so we can return to the others.”
She looked about to protest more but instead said, “Stubborn ass.”
He clasped her chin, lifted her face, and kissed her again. “And so are you. I’m going to take Torigon to the courtyard; I’ll be right back.”