“I was hoping you’d come,” someone said from behind.
Another voice I knew. I jumped and spun to meet Thuridan’s hate-filled gaze, already cringing. Of course it would be him. Sharp glass gleamed between us, and I quickly noticed that the fae warrior had drawn his sword. I held up my hands and readied my power at the same time, greeting the Guardian in a casual drawl.
“Hey, Thuridan. Long time, no see. Hey, listen, when I kick your ass within the next ten seconds, I just want you to know this isn’t personal.” I paused, twisting my lips in speculation. “Wait, scratch that. It is personal—I really don’t like you.”
“When the queen extended her offer of hospitality to you, she sent word to Sylvyre’s guards. Would you like to know what she told us?” He grinned, and there was nothing friendly or mischievous about Thuridan Sarwraek’s smile. He looked nothing like Jassin, with that tawny hair and trimmed beard, but I still saw Jassin in the curve of Thuridan’s lips. A cold sensation crept down my spine.
I was officially done talking.
But when I reached for Thuridan’s deepest fears, which still might not be enough to make him fail his queen, his captain, and every one of his comrades, I was startled to find them well-fortified. Shit. More power, I needed more power. I eyed Thuridan’s sword, wondering which of us would be quicker in a draw, if it came to that. “Okay, I’ll play,” I blurted. “What did Viessa tell you?”
Thuridan’s eyes glittered. “She said to kill you on sight.”
He only gave me a second to register what he’d said before the faerie swung his sword at me so fast that, if I’d been human, he would’ve hacked my body in half.
“Shit!” I leaped out of the way, letting out a yelp. Thuridan was already coming at me again. The terror was exactly the motivation I needed, and I drew my power back to strike at his defenses like a cobra. Thuridan hissed in pain, but he didn’t break. At least he’d stopped swinging the sword—I kept coming at him, and if my own pulsing temples were any indication, his headache was crippling. He still hadn’t dropped his weapon completely, though, and I kept my eyes on it throughout every assault.
Gil was right, I thought. Without all-consuming rage or world-shattering pain, it wasn’t as easy to get past Thuridan’s mental walls. Jassin must have trained him.
Well, until I had better control of my abilities, I’d have to try other tactics. Thinking quickly, I mustered the nerve to step closer to Thuridan. He was bent over, his hands braced on his knees, and I knelt beside him to speak in his ear. My lips brushed his earlobe as I breathed, “Jassin died screaming. Did you know that? Wailing like a baby. He would’ve begged for his life, if he’d been able to.”
“You bitch,” Thuridan snarled, straightening. His face was white with rage.
But he’d let his guard slip, and the fury I had been hoping for created a weakness in the wall. I seized my chance and rammed past it. I heard Thuridan’s kneecaps hit the ground as I invaded.
Adrenaline sang in my blood. It lent me clarity and speed during my exploration. This faerie’s mind was not as impressive or elaborate as Dracula’s, nor as simple as others I’d encountered. It was not a cathedral, a maze, or a jumbled collection. Instead, this psyche made me think of a castle, somehow. I was in a long hallway, the walls made of gray brick, and there were rows of doors on either side.
I’d hardly finished my initial perusal when the entire place began to shake, as if a giant were standing outside slamming his great, meaty fists against the castle walls. Dust, dirt, and bits of rock sprinkled down with every blow.
Thuridan was already fighting me. Damn, he was strong.
In the real world, I took the sword from his limp fingers. Its weight made me grimace, and I realized my time at the Seelie Court had weakened the muscles I’d spent so much time building. Adam would certainly change that, if I ever saw him again. I wrapped my other hand around Thuridan’s arm, more from habit than need. My goal was to maim, not to kill.
The physical touch did seem to help—while Thuridan’s assaults continued, the walls didn’t seem in danger of coming down anytime soon. I resumed my hunt, beginning with the first door. Just as I’d hoped, there was a memory inside. Surprise flitted through me when I saw that Peeks was part of it.
He hadn’t been exaggerating when he mentioned the bullying, although bullying seemed like a generous word for it. I stood there and watched, helpless, as Peeks and Thuridan were strung up by their ankles, surrounded by faeries that looked the same age. The same age, but certainly not the same size. Even with supernatural strength, Peeks and Thuridan never stood a chance. Their tormentors’ beautiful faces were twisted into hideous smiles and taunts, and those smiles never faded as they raised crudely-carved clubs and began to beat the two friends with them.
I stepped back and closed the door, quickly moving on to the next. But… the next one was even worse.
I opened the door to find Jassin on the other side.
He stood there, smiling, as if no time at all had passed since I’d ended his life in the throne room. His long, copper hair gleamed as if there were a torch shining upon it, and he wore a form-fitting black tunic that looked like it had been made from the skin of a snake. His fingernails were just as long as I remembered, that silver ring shining.
I was frozen on the threshold, trying not to let a single sound pass my lips, because I knew one of them was a scream. A shock went through me when other figures appeared like apparitions. There was Thuridan, standing at Jassin’s side. The two of them faced a cluster of young fae males, their limbs and features still in that awkward in-between phase. They weren’t children anymore, but they hadn’t reached maturity, either.
“Don’t you grow tired of these beatings?” Jassin asked Thuridan pleasantly, as if he’d come upon the children playing.
“But I cannot hear their thoughts,” the younger faerie protested. “Not like you.”
“That is why you must use your cunning,” Jassin countered. “That is why you set traps with your wits. If you’d bothered observing any of these five, you would know that Namï is in love with Goras, whose bloodline strictly forbids such unions. There are many ways to play it without magic, but for the purpose of this lesson… ah, look at that, young Namï just proclaimed his feelings in a burst of courage. How will Goras take it, I wonder?”
Jassin must have used his abilities to plant a thought or memory, because Namï suddenly looked at his friend with wide-eyed dismay. Goras began to back away, and it seemed with every step he took, their bond unraveled. The other three did the same, glancing between Namï and Goras, then Jassin and Thuridan. Seconds later, all five of them bolted, their shapes and footsteps going faint before fading completely.
Thuridan stared, open-mouthed, while Jassin’s eyes gleamed with a familiar triumph.
He was grooming him, I thought with dim horror. Teaching Thuridan to be like him. The young faerie may not have been a telepath, but that hadn’t deterred Jassin.
No wonder I’d taken such an instant dislike to this Guardian. A piece of Jassin Sarwraek lived on inside of him.
There was no time to process what I’d just learned. The clock was working against me, and I needed to get into Collith’s cell before it was too late. I shook myself and continued to examine Thuridan’s past, thinking I could use Jassin against him. I just needed the right memory, the right words.