“You don’t understand me very well, Bunny. Don’t blame me for your weakness. Your jealousy.”
Knowing my Guardians are on their way back to The Nead frees me to focus on the plan ahead. Despite our tension, I give Bunny the specifics of how I want this to go down, handing him my sword and allowing him to bind my hands. We enter the castle through a grate on the floor hidden beneath a heavy woven rug. It’s impossible not to ignore the wide swipe of blood covering the floors. Casteel’s blood, if I had to guess.
“Go to the throne room,” I say in a quiet voice. “Don’t you dare hold back.”
Bunny stands behind me. I feel his heart beating like a drum in his chest. He hates every part of this plan. It’s risky, and the odds of us pulling it off are slim. Even if we do, it’s unlikely we’ll both make it out alive.
I’ve only seen the throne room in my dreams. The entry is huge and arched, stone pillars flanking the open double doors. The Queen is holding court even as her prisoners get away and her fierce commander bleeds out elsewhere in the castle. The voices inside sound strained, like false merriment. I’m not surprised. These people fear for their lives. Their entire existence is to humor the Queen. Soldiers spot us before we’ve even made it to the lush purple carpet acting as an aisle.
“Stop!” One of the men yells.
Bunny does as he’s told. “I’ve caught a prisoner of the Morrigan’s trying to escape.”
He looks me up and down. Bunny holds the sharp blade so close to my throat I feel the edge against my skin. The soldier steps forward and lifts up my chin. The instant he sees my face he steps back, muttering a prayer to a god I’ve never heard of.
A second soldier tries to force me from Bunny’s hands but my Guardian hisses disapproval. “No. I caught her. I’m turning her in. You won’t take the glory for my prize.”
I don’t know what his expression looks like, but it must be enough because they both back off. Bunny straightens, yanking me with him, and leads me down the center of the massive throne room. We’ve clearly interrupted celebrations of some sort, and the people eating and drinking at the tables dispersed throughout the room come to a quick and abrupt halt, words frozen on their tongues.
Until I pass and they get a good look at my face and the whispers begin.
Who is that?
Who is that girl?
Where did she come from?
That man? I’ve seen him before!
All their questions come in a hurry, hushed and quiet as though they fear retribution.
The music near the throne never ends, not until the Queen herself looks up. I’ve waited so long for this moment, to meet her face to face. To see the woman that haunts my dreams, orchestrates my moves and dominates my life.
We lock eyes and for a moment I can do nothing but stare at the woman I share a soul with.
I’m shocked at her youth, at the lack of any lines on her face. No scars or blemishes. She’s physical perfection, and although I see the resemblance, I’m nothing but a human duplicate. Sure, power runs through my veins, helped by my immortal lovers, but the Morrigan is a warrior on her own. She doesn’t need anyone else to make her strong.
Or at least, that’s what she wants everyone to think. She takes the elixir from underground to keep her young and virile.
There’s another person on the dais that I recognize and I have to force away any reaction: Anita. She sits directly next to the Queen, in a smaller, less magnificent throne. There’s no denying who should be in the empty seat on the Queen’s other side, most likely set out in celebration for the ceremony Casteel mentioned. The one where we join.
I sense the presence of the weapon Bunny shoved in the back of my pants, refusing to leave me unarmed. It was foolish. I regret it now. She’ll detect it immediately.
“What do we have here?” she asks, staring down at us from her massive, obsidian throne. Her eyes are deep pools of hate and anger. I force myself to hold contact. “Where is Casteel?”
“There’s been a breach,” Bunny says. “Casteel has been injured. Your prisoners are gone.”
“Gone?” She doesn’t blink.
“Yes,” I say. “And I would be gone too if I hadn’t taken the time to hunt down this little worm.”
She watches us carefully. “You bested her?”
“Yes,” Bunny replies. “She was distracted.”
A wide, deranged grin splits the Morrigan’s face, making her look like a jester or clown. She leans forward, laughter on the tip of her tongue, and she says, “I felt them. I felt them together. Their power and strength, it shook the castle like an earthquake. I know about Casteel. What do you think this celebration is for? It’s a death watch, you see. He failed me miserably and when he finally bleeds out for good, we’ll dance on his grave.”
The audience cheers and everything about the moment is perverse and wrong.