Richelle Mead Dark Swan Bundle: Storm Born, Thorn Queen, Iron Crowned & Shadow Heir (120 page)

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Authors: Richelle Mead

BOOK: Richelle Mead Dark Swan Bundle: Storm Born, Thorn Queen, Iron Crowned & Shadow Heir
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Volusian gave me a long-suffering look. “This may be a new low for me, mistress.”
“Hey, it's necessary for the bigger plan. Besides, I figured you'd be all about getting closer to our endgame with Varia. I thought you wanted to prove something to these Yew people.”
His eyes narrowed. “Mistress, you have no idea just how much I want that.”
He vanished, and I was left alone again. I didn't know how many monarchs were in the hall exactly, but it took a while for Volusian to make the rounds to them and Dorian. I had actually dozed off when my minion returned. Waking up to those red eyes in a dark room is not a fate I'd wish on anyone, not that I let him know how much it freaked me out.
“And?” I asked. “How'd it go? Did you talk to everyone?”
“Yes, mistress.”
“How many others are there besides Dorian and me?”
“There are five.”
Five. Somehow, I'd been hoping for a dozen or so. Still, five gentry with magic on par with Dorian and me were nothing to scoff at. We could do some serious damage to this place. “Did they say they'll help?”
“Three were quite zealous. I believe they would have attempted an escape right then, with or without a plan. The other two have been here a considerable time. Their spirits are broken. They were listless in responses, seeming to have little hope that we could actually accomplish anything.”
An uneasy thought occurred to me. “They aren't so desperate that they'll report on me in some attempt to buy favor, are they?”
“I do not believe so, mistress. I believe they have simply given up altogether. Should the opportunity for revenge and escape arise, it's possible they may regain their momentum.”
“Let's hope so,” I muttered. We'd gone from five to three allies. I still thought those were good odds, but I preferred “overwhelming” to “good.”
“Also,” added Volusian, with what I was certain was a note of displeasure, “I have a message from the Oak King.”
“What'd he say?”
“He says that in addition to finding the talismans' location, you should also consider that they will have some sort of magical protection on them. Finding them and defeating their guards may not be enough if there is a shield or enchantment in place that you don't know how to defeat.”
“Excellent point—not that I should expect less from Dorian. Do you think that's likely?”
“Almost certainly.”
“No spell's permanent, of course. Someone powerful enough could blast through it—or several someones. And that's the thing. She probably had multiple people helping set up these defenses, just like with the blight. This thing's going to be a bitch to crack.”
Volusian considered. “Yes, but there is probably a trick or simpler way of undoing any protective magic around the gifts. No one wants to be locked out of their own spell, and she must get through her defenses occasionally to move new objects in.”
My head was hurting from all the growing complications. “So, there's something else we have to figure out. Unless we can just make it work with brute magical force.”
“That is still an option,” he agreed.
“Thanks. You can go.”
I sighed and stretched back out on the bed, trying to figure out how I was going to stage a master escape plan when my allies consisted of a bunch of restrained prisoners, a spirit confined to a hallway, and a bird that may or may not understand me. Glancing over, I saw that Volusian was still standing there and watching me.
“What?” I asked. “Is there something else?”
“The Oak King had another message for you.”
“Oh? What was it?”
“He said ...” I again got that vibe of distaste from Volusian. “He said to tell you he misses you and takes comfort in knowing your room is close to his—though it's still not nearly close enough. He says he will lie in bed tonight and imagine the distance between you is gone and that you are there with him.”
“My God ,” I said, nearly bursting out laughing. “I thought it was bad for you before.”
Volusian made no response. I tried to adopt some seriousness but knew I was grinning.
“Tell him that's very sweet but awfully presumptuous, in light of our history.”
Volusian disappeared and returned about a minute later. “The Oak King says that in light of the current situation, he imagines you might be more open to such suggestions. He said—and I quote—‘Daring escapes do wonders for passion. What would ordinarily be deemed presumptuous might actually seem quite reasonable in troubled times. Perhaps the blight wouldn't have been so cold, had we come to that conclusion sooner.'”
I scoffed. “Well, tell him that remains to be seen, seeing as we haven't pulled off any daring escape yet.”
Volusian hesitated. “Mistress, I have never asked anything of you in my servitude. But now, I beg you this: do not make me keep passing these adolescent sentiments back and forth all night.”
“Fair enough,” I said, feeling a smile start to return. “Go ahead and tell Dorian that too. This is the last note you pass tonight. I need some sleep, and it takes too much power to keep you here.”
Volusian didn't thank me—that would be asking too much—but he did look relieved. He vanished into the darkness and didn't come back that night.
I tried to sleep in earnest, knowing I'd need my strength for whatever wacky mishaps were to come. That's easier said than done in enemy hands—especially for an insomniac like me—and I tossed and turned a fair amount. Sleep did finally come after a couple of hours, mercifully free of dreams. I didn't wake until something pulled at my hair. At first, I shrugged it off in my sleepy state. Then, it happened again, a tug so painful I yelped and opened my eyes.
And found Spots the falcon staring at me, about two inches from my face.
“Jesus Christ!” I jumped up, certain my eyes were about to be pecked out. “Couldn't you just squawk from the window? Or tap the wall with your beak?”
Spots made no reply, save to preen his wing.
“I assume you're here for a reason,” I said. “But you probably can't tell me.”
He looked back up at me and extended a leg. Peering closely, I saw a teeny-tiny roll of paper tied there. Carefully, unsure if he'd decide to gouge me with his claws, I removed the miniature scroll from his leg. The paper was very fine and delicate, and I was half afraid it would tear before I could unroll it. When I finally got a good look at it, I could see a handful of words scrawled in tiny writing:
ROOM IS UNDERGROUND. SCOUT IS INVESTIGATING.
Cryptic but promising overall, I decided. I was about to give the bird a return message when I suddenly heard the lock being opened on my door.
“Get out of here!” I told Spots. “Come back ... er, later.”
He was already up in the window before I could finish talking and wiggled his way out through the bars just as some guards entered. Their faces were grim. One jerked my hands forward while another bound them with chains.
“Her Majesty wants you. Now.”
For a moment, I thought the time I'd been dreading had come. Varia was going to give me some terrible ultimatum. Yet, something about her and her flair for the dramatic told me there would have been a lot of setup and fanfare. This had a hurried feel. An urgency, like something was wrong.
The feeling further intensified when I wasn't marched to the throne room. Instead, I was taken to Varia's own chambers, shoved roughly inside a posh sitting room done entirely in periwinkle velvet. Varia was there, lounging on a divan, looking as though she'd gotten out of bed in the last hour. She wore a robe that matched the room, as well as some furry slippers. Her brown hair was worn down but didn't look like it had been brushed. She stayed in that reclined position, as though trying to present an unconcerned air, but the anger in her voice betrayed her when she saw me.
“Where are they?” she demanded. The dogs were at her feet and began yipping. She silenced them with some treats.
I glanced around, looking for some kind of assistance or context for her question. “Um, where are what?”
“The people you traveled here with.” She sat up and fixed me with a glare so icy that it was easy to see her as the blight's creator. “Where are they, and how in the world did you break them out?”
Chapter 21
I said the first thing that came to mind.
“Sooo ... you lost them?”
Varia glared, not nearly as serene and commanding as she'd been yesterday. “This is not a game! Tell me how you accomplished it. You are still in possession of your powers. How did you escape and set them free?”
I put my hands on my hips. “I may still have my powers, but I'm also being kept in a locked room surrounded by guards and magic users! The kind of magic I'd need to escape would involve me blowing out the door, and I think someone would've probably noticed that. Besides, why the hell would I then go back to my cell? I would've walked out with my friends.”
“I don't believe you,” said Varia. “No one can escape those dungeons. They must have had assistance.” The dogs started their racket again. More treats.
I shrugged and tried not to look too smug. “My friends are pretty resourceful. Maybe your security's not as good as you think.”
Inside, I was jubilant. Jasmine and the others had gotten away! At a basic level, I was simply happy they were safe. In the greater scheme of things, it also meant my hands were no longer tied. I could summon a storm right now and have no fears of retribution. Of course, that would be pre-emptive since the rest of my plan wasn't yet fully developed. The more I studied Varia, though, the more it became obvious I wasn't the only one who'd reached this conclusion about my new freedom.
“I wouldn't be so arrogant if I were you,” she said. “As I said before, I hold a lot more game pieces than you do and control a lot that's dear to you.”
I kept my face neutral, but inside, my heart was racing. I remembered her previous lists of threats. Right now, my friends were off the table, and I sincerely doubted she'd found Isaac and Ivy. What did that leave? My kingdoms. She was pissed off enough about the escape to do something drastic, and nightmare scenarios ran through my mind. What if she blasted one kingdom to show me she was serious about the other? There was a staggering amount of innocent lives in my hands, and if she did attempt to hurt them, I really would blow her apart now, storm or no storm.
Varia smiled cruelly. “Soon you'll see just how much I control when—oh, for the gods' sake! Get them out of here!”
Her moment of drama had been derailed when those wretched little dogs began barking again. A servant quickly scooped them up and scurried out of the room. She swore when one of them bit her.
“Now then.” Varia nodded toward a guard. “Bring him in.”
The guard gave a curt salute and hurried out the door. He returned a moment later with a prisoner—Dorian.
Apparently, I wasn't the only one who'd gotten an early wake-up call. Dorian looked a little worn around the edges but otherwise showed no signs of injury or distress. Indeed, he wore his typically indolent look, as though he'd wanted to come here in chains and Varia had been kind enough to oblige him. His eyes flicked briefly to me before focusing on Varia. He gave her one of his charming smiles.
“Your Majesty. How nice of you to call me to breakfast. And I must say, you look very fetching this morning. I'm always saying women don't go to enough trouble to match their décor. I also always say that brushes are overrated. Right, Eugenie?”
I didn't answer, mostly because I was too preoccupied with what Varia's next move was going to be. I didn't think Dorian's presence here was a good sign. She studied him for several long moments and then turned her attention back to me.
“I should not have given you the night to think things over,” she said crisply. “That was an indulgence on my part, one I won't repeat. I want your fealty. I want the Iron Crown. If I don't get them, I will execute the Oak King as part of my dinner entertainment later.”
I laughed in spite of myself. “You can't kill him. You need him. You want him to sign his kingdom over to you.” I didn't know the exact details of yesterday's conversation, but I had to assume she'd given him the same ultimatum about surrendering his kingdom to her. I also assumed he'd refused.
“True, it's simpler when I have a land's monarch on hand, but his is only one kingdom. His death will serve me better than his surrender. Someone else will simply claim the land, and although it may take longer this way, the Oak Land will become mine once that new king or queen swears allegiance.”
Dorian was still smiling, though there was a tightness in his features that hadn't been there earlier. He narrowed his eyes. “Say what you want, but even if the lowest scullery maid in my castle seizes control of the land, she still won't surrender to you. And Eugenie certainly isn't going to yield the Iron Crown to your control simply for my sake. She doesn't like me nearly that much. This is an absurd waste of time. Why don't we all just sit down for a delightful morning meal of tea and pastries and put this absurdity behind us? Where are your charming pets, by the way?”
There was some truth to his words. I wasn't going to give up the Iron Crown, even to save his life—but that decision wasn't nearly as carefree as he made it sound. It was a head-over-heart choice, one that I knew accomplished the most good but which would probably kill me in the application.
“This is no joke. The Oak King will die if my request is denied. And,” Varia continued to me, “as I said, I'm not going to let you debate in luxury.”
Was my cell considered luxury? I
really
had to see what passed for dismal lodging around this place. Before I could question her further, a slight gesture from her brought a guard striding toward Dorian. In one smooth motion, he halted before Dorian and punched him hard in the stomach. Dorian doubled over, and a spasm of pain crossed his face, but he otherwise made no sound. Me, on the other hand ... well, I had a few things to say.
“You fucking bitch!” I exclaimed, straining forward. Guards were already in place to restrain my arms, probably having anticipated my reaction. “I am going to
kill
you!” Without further thought, I had drawn the magic of air and water around me. The room grew thick with humidity and tension. All I needed was a source to blast it into.
“Eugenie,” said Dorian sharply. All mirth was gone. “Do
not
do anything rash. You have a lot to think over.”
I met his eyes, which were greener than ever in the morning light streaming through Varia's windows. I caught the subtext. If I unleashed my magic now, it would be without a well-formed plan. Again, I had a head vs. heart decision here, and my head's argument didn't seem so compelling just then. Still, after a deep breath, I dropped my magic and fixed a glare on Varia.
“Perhaps the Oak King is more reasonable than I suspected,” she mused. She nodded toward the same guard again. He stepped forward and punched Dorian in the face, hard enough that I heard a
thwack
.
“Ow,” moaned Dorian, wincing from the pain. “My greatest asset.”
I bit my lip so hard that I tasted blood. But I had to do something to stop myself from striking Varia down with lightning. “What is the point of this?” I asked Varia, once I had some semblance of control. “To convince me what a badass you are? That you can bully a chained-up man? Or is it just so I'll believe you really will kill him?”
“Oh,” she said. “You can rest assured that I
will
kill him. Mostly this is to emphasize what I said before: no more time to lounge around and decide with no consequences. For every moment you waste deliberating today, the Oak King will be in the hands of my torturers, experiencing the most excruciating pain. Your delay extends that agony.”
“Oh, irony,” murmured Dorian.
I stiffened. This was not good news, first because I simply didn't want Dorian suffering. What also sucked was that I was certain the torturers were not on the same floor as my cell, meaning I wouldn't have Dorian on hand when I attempted my great coup. Jasmine and the others' escape had given me one less variable to worry about inside the palace. Dorian being taken out of my sight was a brand-new complication.
Varia continued. “And believe me when I say that my professionals make Garik's attempts here seem quite childish. No offense, Garik.” The punching guard gave a bow of acknowledgment to his queen. “Fortunately for the Oak King, his pain will be short-lived—either because you'll make the right decision or I'll be forced to kill him at suppertime.”
“Remember—nothing rash, Eugenie,” said Dorian, far too cheerful for someone whose face was swelling rapidly. “I can take as much pain as I can dole out—and you certainly know how much I can dole out. Don't worry about me.”
Again, I caught the message to carry out the other plans with caution. There was also, I suspected, a joke in there about some of Dorian's sexual preferences, which tended to run toward BDSM. I had little appreciation for the weak attempt at humor just now, however. It took every ounce of strength I had to remain hard and impassive to Varia. Otherwise, there was a good chance I'd fall to my knees and beg for Dorian's release.
“I'm not swearing any loyalty to you,” I told her. “And I'm not going to use the Iron Crown on your behalf. That answer's not going to change.”
“Suit yourself,” she said. “We'll see what you say later today.” She gave us a wave of dismissal. “Take them to their respective locations.”
I wasn't able to exchange another word with Dorian because we were both hurried out too quickly. The urge to unleash a storm surged within me one last time, and I again fought it back. I would do this right. So, I allowed my escort to take me back to my cell on the third floor. They again gave me the faux courtesy of removing my chains before locking the door. Glancing around, I saw that someone had left a covered meal tray on my palette. I lifted the lid and found a piece of bread and some water—and a rat that quickly darted off the tray. Talk about adding insult to injury.
“Oh,” I said. “That's just lovely.”
Yet, before I finished speaking, I noticed something weird about the rat—mainly, that it wasn't actually a rat. Instead, it was a rat-sized miniature red fox. I caught my breath.
“No way. Kiyo?”
The rat-fox scurried to the center of my cell. Within moments, he transformed, and I had a full-sized Kiyo standing before me. I cast a wary look behind me, half expecting guards to come busting in. Then, I had to remind myself that his kitsune magic would not be readily detectable to gentry.
“How'd you do that?” I asked Kiyo. “Did a mad scientist give you a shrink ray?”
He smiled, but his eyes looked tired. “Afraid not. It's just another variation on the shape-shifting, just like I can turn into a super-sized fox. I've just never had much reason for the small size. Turns out it's terribly convenient for poking around a palace.”
“I thought you were a rat,” I admitted.
“So did one of the cooks in the kitchen. I have a new respect for brooms.”
“Is that how you guys escaped? Where's everyone else? Are they okay?”
He leaned against the wall and ran a hand through his dark hair. “The chains couldn't stop me, especially once I shape-shifted. Once I had a moment to free myself, I got the chains off everyone else, and then we just kind of busted our way out in the night. Why haven't you done that?”
“Would if I could,” I muttered. “Varia's keeping me in check with a few things. First, it was you guys. Then she tacked on the destruction of my kingdoms and finding Isaac and Ivy for good measure. Now she's got Dorian with torturers and his execution penciled in.” I gave him a brief recap of my morning meeting.
“You were smart not to act then,” said Kiyo, when I was finished. “Dorian's strong. He'll hold out.”
I wondered if Kiyo meant that or if he just didn't really care about Dorian suffering. “You never told me where the others are.”
“Hidden in the city,” Kiyo said. “Your Hemlock friends helped us find a safe place.”
“Hemlock ...” A light went off. “You're Alea's scout, aren't you? You've been looking for the room with the talismans.”
“Found it,” he said, in a manner far too casual for the importance of those words. “Like I said, you can get to a lot when you're rat-sized.”
“Is it in the basement, like Alea said?”
“Well, yes, but there are a bunch of basements here. This place goes as far underground as it does above. The room's about four floors down and has lots of guards. The objects are inside, in two collections, surrounded by some magic I can't really figure out. But then, gentry magic isn't my specialty.”
“Two collections ... let me guess. One for the lands actually in the blight and one for those who've sworn allegiance. But obviously, she'd still keep their tokens around as leverage.”
Kiyo nodded. “That's what I thought too. Not sure if this makes you feel better or worse, but the blighted pile was much larger. More are resisting than giving in.”

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