Realm of Mirrors (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 3) (26 page)

He rushed me again, the massive sword upraised. I gestured and said, “
À dionadth
.” This time I felt something in me strain as I cast the spell—my spark was draining. And the moon, strong as it was, couldn’t charge it back fast enough.

The sword clanged against the shield…and shattered it. And the guard drew back for another blow.

“Too simple, halfling,” he sneered as he advanced. “Had you thought yourself equal to the Unseelie Guard? With your weak human half, you’re no match for a true Fae.”

Huh. Too simple…or not simple enough?

I smiled. “
Beith na cohdal.
”

And I thoroughly enjoyed the look on his face as he staggered and slumped into sleep.

But now I really had nothing left. I clutched the dagger tightly and looked around, trying to assess the tide of the battle. Levoran and Aonghas were still swinging away at each other, but Aonghas was losing ground. A third guard lay prostrate with blood splashed on his armor. Taeral had just brought one down and charged another, screaming and waving a bloodied dagger in the air like a flag.

There was a sound behind me. I turned to find a guard rushing me, a knife in one hand and the other outstretched to cast a spell.

Well, at least he probably wouldn’t kill me. The Queen wanted to do that.

Before he reached me, Uriskel dropped from the sky like a stone. He snatched the guard by the wrist and carried him straight up. “Sadie,” he shouted. “Fetch.”

He let go, and Sadie lunged out of nowhere in a graceful arc to collide with the falling Unseelie and slam him to the ground.

I couldn’t help a tired laugh. She’d make him pay for that fetch comment later.

Taeral and Uriskel together brought the sixth guard down. Now only Aonghas remained—but he clearly wasn’t going to come out on top. His light-armor had vanished, and he was panting and bleeding, just barely fending off Levoran’s hammering blows.

I made my way toward the fight. “Hey,” I called. “Maybe he wants to surrender now.”

Aonghas glanced at me with fiercely sparking eyes. And Levoran drove the sword through his stomach.

He gasped and fell to his knees. It was an obvious effort for him to lift his head, and he looked around as everyone still standing drifted over.

None of them were his men.

“Well met, Levoran,” Aonghas said. He winced and wiped dripping blood from his mouth with the side of his fist. “I am honored to die in battle at your hands.”

“An honor you did not afford me, Aonghas, and one I’ll not grant you.” Levoran reached down, gripped the sword and pulled it free, producing a pained cry from the captain. “You will live to suffer her punishment for your failure.”

With that, he reversed the sword and smashed the club-like hilt into Aonghas’ temple. The Unseelie’s eyes rolled to white, and he pitched forward.

“That was immensely satisfying.” Levoran grinned. “On to the palace, then?” he said.

“That is the plan,” Taeral said, turning to Uriskel with a smile. “Defeat the Guard and storm the palace.”

“Aye. And it’s a good plan,” he said.

Sadie, who’d changed back to a person in fighting clothes, punched him in the arm. “Except for the fetch part, you asshole.”

He shrugged. “You did respond to the command.”

She rolled her eyes and gave a half-smile. “Whatever. Let’s go.”

I couldn’t believe we’d won. But we still had to face the Queen—and my magic was just about spent. I didn’t know about the rest of them, but none of us had escaped the fight unscathed. We were all bleeding and exhausted despite the triumphant mood. And Levoran was literally dead.

This part of the plan might not go so well.

C
HAPTER 36

U
p close, the Unseelie palace was an incredible sight.

It wasn’t just ice blue. Translucent, shimmering bands of purple, green and pink rippled just beneath the surface of the crystals that rose in formation to create turrets and towers. The moon’s light refracted endlessly on itself among the faceted crystal, creating the illusion that the whole palace was moving.

The post-battle silence held as we approached the massive double doors, made of an iridescent jet-black material that could’ve been crystal or stone. I still didn’t like it—I half believed there were twice as many guards waiting on the other side of those doors. But Levoran didn’t seem concerned.

Then again, he actually enjoyed fighting.

The dead guard reached the palace first. He pressed a hand against the doors, and said, “
Beilách.
”

I tensed as they swung open slowly, and didn’t breathe until no one attacked us.

Levoran stepped onto the threshold and stood aside. “Come in,” he said. “You are welcome in this place.”

I wasn’t sure I felt welcome. But I filed inside with the others, and stopped to stare as the doors closed behind us. The interior was just as breathtaking—all ice blue and jet black crystals, with shifting iridescence that rippled through the deserted great room we stood in. It was like being underwater in a pristine blue ocean.

“We’ll likely find her in the throne room,” Uriskel said. “We will confront her, and demand the return of Daoin and Reun.”

Levoran laughed softly. “It’s as good a plan as any. And it worked so well the last time,” he said. “Still, I suspect there’s a chance she may not cave to your demands.”

“We’ll figure something out,” I said, not believing a word of it. But we didn’t have too many options, and Levoran was right. It was as good a plan as any.

And Uriskel might just have a trump card—if he got the opportunity to play it.

Levoran took the lead toward the back of the huge crystal room, and Taeral rushed a little to catch up with him. “Any idea what she’s done to Daoin?” he said. “I know she’s taken him to her chambers, but nothing beyond that.”

“Whatever she’s done, she’d not shared it with me or any other Guard. At least, before she ordered me killed.” Levoran’s jaw clenched. “Considering the state he was in when they brought him through…well, it’s just one more reason to make her pay.” He glanced at Taeral with a stiff expression. “What happened to him?” he said softly. “I never had the opportunity to ask.”

Taeral stared straight ahead. “A group of humans captured him. Tortured him for twenty-six years,” he said. “He’s no memory of anything before the moment we rescued him. He barely recalls I’m his son, and he’s just learned that Gideon is as well.”

“
Humans
did that to him?”

“For the most part. A
baughan
accomplished the rest.”

Bogeyman. I hadn’t thought about Murdoch in a while—but he’d saved Taeral’s life, and Daoin’s, when he used sheer terror to burn the Milus Dei programming out of Daoin’s mind. Along with several years of his life.

We could’ve used him on this mission. But he’d gone off to do whatever bogeymen did when they weren’t reluctantly fighting evil cults.

Levoran led us into a corridor like a crystal throat. It branched into a Y at the far end, and he took the right-hand path. “Be ready,” he said. “The throne room’s just ahead.”

I didn’t think I’d ever be ready. But at least I could sense a little of my spark restored.

Enough for just one spell.

Another black crystal door stood at the end of the corridor. Levoran placed a hand on it and looked back. “Anyone care to surrender now?” he said. “No? All right, then.” He pushed the door open.

The space beyond it was completely dark.

“Let me guess,” Sadie muttered. “That’s not suspicious, either.”

“Oh, it’s highly suspect,” Levoran said cheerfully. “But here we are, so we may as well go inside. I’m certain someone can light the place up.”

We filed in one by one, with Levoran holding the door. Just as he closed it behind us, a blinding flash of pure gold light consumed the space—and a female voice thundered, “
Gaich seabh’fos!
”

And I couldn’t move a single muscle.

C
HAPTER 37

T
he dazzling light was slow to fade. When it finally did, everything in me clenched like a fist. This was definitely the throne room—and it was not a pleasant place. There were no crystals here. Everything was black marble and burnished gold.

And the walls were made of mirrors.

The room was an octagon…maybe. It was almost impossible to tell for sure, because the vast, angled mirrors of the walls were pristine and gleaming, catching a hundred reflections and echoing them back into infinity. My eyes watered and my head spun sickly as I tried to adjust to the visual assault.

For some reason it was especially painful to look straight across the room at the raised platform where the thrones probably were.

But it hurt just as much tracking my gaze slightly to the left, past the platform, and seeing Reun.

His glamour was gone. I’d never seen his true form—pale green skin, hair that would’ve been golden blond without the filth and blood matted into it. The only clothing he had on was a string tied around his waist, with leather panels at the front and back. There were gold bracelets clamped midway around his upper arms, and a gold collar around his throat. He was battered and unconscious, maybe even dead, on his knees with his arms suspended and chained to the mirror wall behind him.

I would’ve shuddered if I could move. Instead I focused straight ahead, trying to will myself to see what was there. I made out two thick, freestanding stone columns at either side of the platform, and an empty throne that was constructed with bones. Thick black velvet drapes hung behind the platform, interrupting the endless reflection.

Finally, I managed to see the second throne beside the empty one, and the Unseelie Queen sitting in it.

Beautiful didn’t do her justice.

Her hair was the color of flames, her skin like golden sun. Intensely green eyes, the exact same shade as Uriskel’s, pink and perfect bow lips flirting with the smallest of smiles. Poets would’ve committed suicide trying write about her face, because words fell so far from sufficient to describe it. Her flowing gown was whiter than fresh snow.

I hated her. And I still wanted to fall at her feet and worship her.

She rose from the throne with movements that put grace to shame, and practically floated across the platform. “I sense your concern. Your Seelie friend lives, dear ones,” she said. “My courtesans have merely exhausted him for the moment.”

Angels wept when she spoke. And I wanted to rip her tongue out.

“Have you nothing to say for yourselves?” she said, and smiled sweetly. “Oh, yes. How rude of me…you cannot speak.”

“I’ve something to say, Highness.”

Levoran. A sliver of relief lodged in me—maybe we still had a chance. Her magic wouldn’t work on him.

I just hoped her charms didn’t, either.

Her exquisite face relaxed in shock as Levoran moved toward her. “Impossible,” she said in a commanding tone. “I personally watched you die, traitor.
Míilé lahn!
”

The translation sickened me. A thousand knives.

But Levoran kept coming.

“Don’t you know, Highness?” he said as he reached the steps of the platform. “Only the DeathSpeaker can compel the dead.”

“DeathSpeaker,” she whispered, her green gaze darting to me. “Can it be true?”

Levoran grinned a horrible grin. “Your eyes cannot lie, Highness. Neither can my soul—and it wants revenge.”

He lunged at her.

She vanished, and reappeared between the two thrones.

“Why, Levoran,” she said with a wicked smile. “I believe you mean to harm me. Guard!”

“Your Guard is lying down on the job,” he said.

Her smile broadened. “Not all of them. My most loyal remains by my side, always.”

The black curtains parted, and a figure strode out dressed in the uniform of the Guard—armor of light, sword and dagger, a jeweled band on his brow. Long black hair like a curtain of silk, vivid blue eyes. Sculpted from muscle and fury.

Twin curved scars along either side of his face.