The Faerie War (36 page)

After about a minute, I hear a noise behind me. I stop walking and raise my hands. I don’t want to get myself shot before making it through the front doors. Rapid footsteps move across the ice before a figure comes into view in front of me. He holds a sword in one hand and a throwing star in the other. From his glance over my shoulder, I know there’s at least one more person behind me.

“What do we have here?” he says. “Another guardian, huh?” I guess my sleeve slipped down a little. The Unseelie guard smirks at me. “You here to hand yourself over?”

“Yes, actually. Draven’s expecting me.”

“You—What?”

“And he’ll be
very
disappointed if you don’t take me to him right now.”

The twisted smile returns to his face. “Well, if that’s what the lady wants, that’s what the lady will get.” He nods his head. A figure appears on either side of me, gripping my wrists before I have a chance to move. Something cold snaps around my right wrist, and I suppress the almost overwhelming urge to shriek out loud in frustration. I’m now magic-less.
Again.
Stupid metal bands.

The guards jerk me forward. The one I spoke to moves behind me. I feel the point of his sword between my shoulders as I walk. The path widens as we reach the circular space in front of the Unseelie Palace’s entrance. A round pond sits in the middle, frozen and glittering. At its center is a formation of silver fish, icicles spurting from their mouths. They seem to be suspended in midair with nothing to hold them up.

I’m dragged past the silent fish fountain and around to the side of the palace. I guess they don’t take trespassers through the front door. Branches lean over us like crooked fingers as we walk between the trees. I don’t know if it’s my imagination or if some of them lean down to touch me as I pass by. Either way, it’s exceptionally creepy.

We come to a side door, and the first thing I notice is the strip of metal running around the doorway. The same metal that’s wrapped around my wrist. Has Draven put it on every door? What about the windows? Is he really that desperate to keep interfering magic like mine from getting into his palace?

The faerie behind me steps forward and raps the hilt of his sword against the door. Moments later, the door opens to reveal another guard. I’m shoved into his arms. “Take her to Draven. Apparently he’s expecting her.”

He drags me up to a tower. I know because the winding staircase seems to go on forever and ever. At the top of the stairs, before I can get a good look at what’s up here, he tries to take the sword from me.

“Sorry, but that’s not happening,” I tell him.

“Excuse me? Do you really think I’m going to let you into Lord Draven’s presence with—”

“Leave it,” a familiar voice commands. “She can’t use it on me.”

With a final glare in my direction, the guard heads back down the stairs. I take a deep breath before turning. The round, stone room is bare except for an ice-white glow-bug sitting in each narrow window and several elaborate tapestries hanging on the wall. I can’t imagine them being Nate’s style; they must have been here before he arrived. A shadow moves in the rafters above, but I can’t see enough to figure out what creature is lurking up there. Across the room from me is a wide stairway leading out onto a balcony. That’s where I see him standing, facing me, his hands behind his back.

Nate. Lord Draven.

Light flickers behind him, casting his front in shadow. He takes a few lazy steps down. When he reaches the bottom step, I can finally see him properly. His hair is longer, brushing his shoulders now, and his skin is paler than before. The disturbing green light I saw in his eyes last time we met is still there, but it’s brighter now. No trace of the soft brown that once captivated me.

“Violet,” he says. “You’re just in time to watch the real fun this evening.”

I can’t figure out if I’m shaking because I’m cold or scared or just plain shocked that I’m standing in front of the guy who ruined our world. “And what would that be?” I manage to ask.

He gestures behind him. “Why don’t you come and see?”

No thank you.
But I find myself walking forward anyway. Not because he’s forcing me to, but because the reason I’m here is to talk to him, and I need to do it face-to-face.

“So,” I say as I slowly place one foot in front of the other. “How’s the Unseelie Court working out for you? I bet the Queen wasn’t too pleased about sharing.”

“No. Which is why she received the same fate as her son.”

My stomach twists as I remember Zell’s headless body hanging inside the Rose Hall at Creepy Hollow.

“It was for the best,” Nate continues. “After all, there is no Seelie and Unseelie anymore. There is only the fae realm and the human realm. And even then, I plan for those two realms not to be so separate one day.”

Seriously?
That sounds a lot like what Tharros wanted to do . . .

I stop a few paces away from Nate. My eyes flick over his shoulder. I see a great white cloud hanging in front of the balcony. And . . . are those moving images in the cloud?

“Take a look,” Nate says, stepping aside and holding his arm out toward the balcony. I look, but I don’t move another inch. “I miss television,” he tells me. “Being entertained by moving images on a screen. So I created my own screen. Now I can watch the battle without having to be there.”

That’s
what the moving images are? I look closer and see Fireglass Vale filled with fighting fae of all types. All across the valley, bright colors dart and spin, and sparkling weapons slash and fly. Fires erupt, only to be quenched moments later by a patch of rain or a miniature blizzard. Screaming, running, fighting, falling. It’s a silent nightmare.

“I’ve been watching your valley for a while,” Nate continues. He laughs quietly. “They thought they were watching me, but everything they’ve seen is exactly what I wanted them to see.”

Of course it was. Nate always likes to be at least one step ahead, doesn’t he? “I’m sure it helped having someone on the inside,” I say, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice.

“Yes.” Nate turns away from his ‘screen’ and focuses on me once more. “I was lucky Amon transferred his loyalty to me after I killed his former master.”

“Hmm.” I tilt my head to the side. “Makes you wonder how easily he’d turn on you if someone else offered him a better deal.”

“No, it doesn’t. There is no better deal than what I offered him, and he knows it.”

Right. Sadly, that’s true, so I don’t argue. I place my shaking hands on my hips and start chewing the inside of my lip. I came here to say something, and I need to say it.

“Nice sword you’ve got there,” Nate says before I can get my words out.

I reach back and touch the hilt. “I assume Amon told you about this too.”

“He did.”

I watch him. He watches me. I break first. “What did you do with Tilly?”

“Contrary to what you’re probably thinking, I didn’t kill her. I’m actually not the killing machine everyone seems to think I am. Sure, if someone insists on fighting me, I have no choice but to kill him or her, but otherwise, I value life. Magical life, especially. So, no. Tilly isn’t dead. But I’ve made sure she’s on my side now.”

“You marked her.”

“Of course. I marked someone else for you too. Someone you once told me you’d never love, not even if the continuation of your kind depended on it. Someone I’ll let you say goodbye to before the night is up.”

Ryn.
Leaden fear attaches itself to my heart and drags it down. “What are you going to do to him?”

Nate watches me closely. “Is that why you came here, Violet? Did you think you could rescue him?”

I shake my head. Tears form behind my eyes. “I came for an entirely different reason.”

Nate crosses his arms. “Well, get on with it then. Our time is almost up.”

This is it. The moment that should have happened so many months ago. The moment that could have prevented everything. But the words are stuck in my throat; I want to make sure I mean them before I say them.

I look past the glowing eyes that hate me and remember the guy who kissed me and made me laugh. The guy who asked the most ridiculous questions about my magic. The guy who got caught up in a world he wasn’t prepared for and never should have entered. The guy who had no idea how to save both his family and the girl he loved, so he ended up betraying them both. For the first time, I think I can imagine his pain. I imagine him risking his life to get away from Zell to come and find me, only to hear me say I never wanted to see him again. I imagine his broken heart, his loneliness, his despair. I imagine him having to watch his parents die.

My eyes ache as tears drip down my cheeks. “I forgive you, Nate,” I whisper.

His face twists into an ugly expression. “I don’t want your forgiveness.”

More tears. A deeper ache. “Nate does. The real Nate. The one buried beneath this evil exterior. He’s the one who came to apologize for betraying me. He’s the one I turned my back on, and I want to tell him I’m sorry.”

“That Nate doesn’t exist anymore. You made sure of that, Violet. I barely remember him.”

I step closer to him, staring into the green glow of his eyes and hoping desperately that I can somehow reach him. “Nate. I’m sorry. With all my heart, I’m sorry.”

He stares at me for so long I begin to wonder if I’m getting through to him. Then he says, “Is that it? That’s all you’ve got to say?” He shakes his head. “Did you really think that would be enough to save everyone? To make me stop all this? You show up here with your pathetic offering of forgiveness and hope that everything can go back to the way it was? I’m disappointed, Vi. I expected you to put up a good fight.”

I close my eyes, forcing more tears to spill down my cheeks. “Then you’ve missed the whole point,” I whisper. I didn’t come here to fight him. I knew that would never work. I came here to right a wrong I never should have done. I knew there was only a slim chance that forgiveness and an apology would work, but since that’s what was at the heart of all this, I had to try.

“Well, it was probably a pointless point,” Draven says. I can’t think of him as Nate anymore. He’s right. That person is no longer here.

Draven climbs the stairs. “Now that we’ve got that out the way, let’s get on with tonight’s show. We’re going to say goodbye to a few people who are no longer necessary. Then we’ll enjoy the rest of the battle. And then—” he looks back down at me with a smile “—you can decide if your life is still worth living.”

With a great effort, I manage to blink my tears away. I follow him up the stairs, and this time, I’m not the one in control of my feet. He forces me out onto the balcony where I can’t help looking at the horrifying scene in the valley. So much fighting. So much smoke. Too many bodies lying still.

“Can I trust you not to try anything stupid, Vi?” Draven asks. When I don’t answer, he says, “Hmm, no, I didn’t think so.” Something snakes around my wrists, pulling them tight behind my back. I’m not sure what he thinks I might do with my hands. It’s not like I can use any magic. “Now, let’s say hello to tonight’s guests of honor.” He looks over my shoulder, and I swivel around.

Ryn. Tilly.

My chest burns as if someone stabbed a blade into it. My heart thrashes fiercely, trying to tear itself free from the pain. I watch them, standing against the outer wall of the tower, staring blankly ahead as if the situation doesn’t interest them in the slightest. A crack cleaves my heart in two. They’re lost now. Taken. Enslaved within their own minds. I can hardly stand to look at them, at the blankness on their faces.

“Do you remember what I told you, Vi?” Draven asks. “That you would have to watch your world and everyone you care about suffer? That only once I’d taken away everything you cared about would you have my permission to die?”

I remember all too well. I remember his words and the burning forest and my broken home and Tora crushed beneath a tree. I can almost taste the scorching smoke in my throat.

He leans closer and whispers into my ear, “That time is almost here.”

No.
Draven steps back. I stare at Ryn through a haze of tears. His gaze points straight ahead. His face is still too blank for me to tell whether he’s thinking or feeling anything. I watch as his hand moves slowly, carefully toward Tilly’s. He grips her fingers and squeezes, then lets go.