And yet, she could lie.
Nollaig cocked her head. “Well, that is certainly interesting.”
“Maybe it’s because you’re considered part of our court now,” Tarrah tried. “You may not be one of us, but your vow binds you to this place in a way. Perhaps that means you’ve been given the means to lie because of it.”
Reyna’s head snapped up. “My vow.”
Tarrah nodded. “It makes perfect sense. You’ll be able to lie until the king releases you, I suppose.”
“The king will never release me.” Reyna grabbed her ice dagger from the table and threw her hoarfrost cloak over her shoulders. “Wait for me outside the city gates. There’s something I must do.”
“Reyna,” Lorcan said, a warning in his voice. “I don’t like that look on your face. What exactly are you planning to do?”
She whirled toward him then, and she knew her eyes flashed with pure, unbridled rage. “I didn’t think I could lie, so I haven’t been trying. But what if I’ve been able to for awhile now? Just like I’ve been able to use the power of the ice in recent months? It would mean that my vow was never binding. It means my promises are nothing but ash. It means there is nothing stopping me from doing the one thing I’ve wanted to do since I woke up inside this godforsaken castle. I’m going to kill the king.”
“Hold on there, Shieldmaiden.” Nollaig stepped firmly into Reyna’s path. “There will be no king killings this day.”
“Why?” Reyna shot back. “You may act like a dutiful servant, but I’ve seen you. I have heard the things you say. You are not as dedicated to the king as you would like him to think. You believe this realm would be better off without him. You think him cruel and weak.”
“You cannot do it. You will be cursed,” Tarrah hissed.
“I am already cursed.” Reyna pushed past Nollaig, only to find Lorcan standing in her way. She sighed and propped fisted hands on her waist. “Surely you, out of everyone here, don’t take issue with this.”
“Reyna.” He grasped her hand and gently placed it against his chest. Beneath her fingertips, she could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. She swallowed hard, momentarily forgetting her wrath. It was difficult to remain angry when Lorcan gazed at her just like that. As if she meant the world to him.
“Tarrah is right. If you murder a king while he’s in control of a Seat of Power, you will be cursed. I watched it happen with my own two eyes. Sloane Selkirk was one of the most powerful males in the world. But you saw what happened to him in the end. He killed a king and his world slowly crumbled down on top of him.” His grip tightened on her hand. “If you don’t care about the curse, then do it for me. Hold back for me. Bolg Rothach has spent his life destroying everything I love. And I want to be the one who does the same to him.”
33
Lorcan
In the depths of the Dorcha Mountains, the Peak of Madness rose up like a great gnarled finger. Behind it stretched half a dozen smaller gnarled fingers, which succeeded in creating a mountain pass that looked eerily like an old man’s resting hand. They had spent the past days trekking through the Misty Wastes, past Olc Fortress, and further inward to the south. Lorcan had never before seen this part of the shadow lands, and now he understood why. There was nothing here but the mists.
According to Tarrah’s calculations, it would take them another week to reach the portal. It was hidden inside the third gnarled finger, a smaller mountain the previous king had dubbed Cinder Ridge. Here were the caverns the great kingdom had once mined for shadowsteel. Now, they sat empty, save for wicked beasts that were rumored to swallow travellers whole.
Lorcan had been thinking a lot about the words Reyna had spoken as they’d left for Inishfall. She had lied, blatantly so. So much that it could not have been laughed off as though it were nothing more than a joke. He knew what she felt for him, and him her, and it was nothing like hate.
Did that truly mean she wasn’t bound to her vow to his father, after all? If she wasn’t, there would no longer be anything keeping her inside the kingdom of shadows. Once this quest to Inishfall was done, Reyna Darragh would leave this godforsaken realm. And Lorcan would not try to stop her, even if it killed him to know he would soon lose her again.
“An airgead for your thoughts,” Reyna said as she plodded along beside him on the Butcher’s Road that wound through the valleys that cut between the mountains. Every now and again, she’d feed Wingallock a worm or absentmindedly stroke his feathers. The reddish light of the sun backlit her silver hair, matching the murderous glint in her eyes. She had still not forgotten about killing Bolg Rothach.
“I’m thinking about my mark. I want to rid myself of it, once and for all.”
She cast him a sidelong glance. “I’ll cut it out of you.”
“You can’t. I’ve tried that before. The mark never lets me make a deep enough cut. It always stops me before I get to that point. Usually, by inflicting so much pain in my head that I can’t think straight.” He fisted his hands. God, he hated his mark.
“That’s because you’ve been trying to do it to yourself. I’ll be in charge of the dagger, and there is absolutely nothing it can do to stop me. I’m fairly stubborn, if you hadn’t realized.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “That sounds thrilling and terrifying all at once. What happens when the mark realizes what you’re doing, somehow communicates it with my father, and then my father commands you from across the realm? Your vow will stop you from doing it. We’re both stuck.”
“Your father can’t force me to stop,” she said. “The vow isn’t binding. It seems I can lie now.”
“You’re certain of that?”
She shrugged. “Certain enough to try.”
Lorcan spent the next several hours thinking over Reyna’s offer. Removing the mark had always been a distant dream. He had tried. Time and time again, he had tried. But he had never asked another to do it for him. At the Shadow Court, he assumed anyone he’d ask would refuse. Most were loyal to his father, or so he thought. At the Air Court, no one had known about his mark or who he was. He couldn’t have asked Thane without giving up the truth, and he hadn’t wanted to lose his closest friend.
It wasn’t until now that he’d found someone who was willing to do the deed, who understood who he was, and who wanted to jump into the filth right alongside of him.
That night, they made camp at the southern base of Cinder Ridge in the midst of piles of craggy rocks. The ground was rough and uneven, and not a single patch of grass could be found regardless of how hard they looked. The night was warm with a sticky kind of heat, but they made a fire to roast the potatoes they’d stuffed into their packs.
Lorcan was sick of potatoes, but they had little else.
He settled onto the ground beside Reyna. She’d sat far away from the fire, her arms around her legs, her chin on her knees. She was gazing up at the misty sky, her silver eyes as distant as the hidden stars. In the distance, Wingallock swooped across the barren landscape, searching for mice. He would not find any in these cruel lands.