Bright Wicked 3: Infernal Dark (A Fantasy Romance) Page 4

  I beg Christiana to believe me, but the line of her lips remains determined. “Mathilda will tell us the truth,” she repeats.

  Deep down, I understand her distrust. I know she would do anything for her brother, but if she truly believes I’ve betrayed his people, then she has to think of every human here. They’re Nathaniel’s family. He loves all of them like brothers and sisters. She has an awful choice in front of her.

  I wouldn’t believe me, either.

  My head lowers, pain and exhaustion taking its toll, before I wrench myself upright again, determined not to reveal the true extent of my current physical weakness.

  Treble turns his head toward Christiana. His eyes are filled with rage on my behalf, but he knows better than to try to get in her way. She’ll let her arrow loose at the slightest provocation.

  She continues to point her weapon directly at my right eye.

  I guess she’s considering whether or not to take the shot.

  It might be her only chance to kill me. I’m completely vulnerable, holding Nathaniel with my left arm and Hagan with my right. I won’t be able to get my hands up in time to defend myself—assuming I’m prepared to drop both men.

  Despair fills me—a slow, cold darkness growing inside my chest. The Law of Champions is clear: Any human who spills a drop of my blood or kills me will be killed instantly.

  If she’s willing to kill herself to end me, then there’s nothing I can do or say to convince her this isn’t some kind of trap. Using my starlight to create the opportunity for us to land certainly wouldn’t have helped her view of the situation.

  She will never trust me. No matter what Mathilda says.

  My only ally is Nathaniel, and he’s unable to speak.

  I drag air in and out of my chest. Each breath is harsh with pain and emptiness. I count each one, not sure if I’ll make it to the next.

  “Do it,” I snarl at her, no longer able to see beyond my pain and despair. “Kill me! Just make sure someone catches Nathaniel before he falls.”

  She jolts. Her voice rises to a scream. “Mathilda! I need you now!”

  My vision blurs, but I make out the ripple in the middle of the wheat field as a patch of wheat crumbles into dust.

  The air in front of me flickers.

  Mathilda appears a few paces behind Christiana. The witch’s hair is as loose and wild as it was yesterday morning. Her fire-colored pelt sits around her shoulders, billowing in the rush of her movement. Today she’s wearing a low cut, faded violet dress that hugs her voluptuous figure.

  Mathilda’s piercing green eyes are wide as she takes in the scene: Treble, Christiana, the trainees, and finally me and Nathaniel.

  She moves with speed. As she crosses the distance between us, her hand shoots out toward Christiana, a flash of dark light spearing across the air.

  Christiana shouts and jumps back when the dark magic hits her arrow, burning it instantly to ash that wafts away in the rushing breeze of Mathilda’s arrival.

  Despite Christiana’s alarm, Mathilda continues to storm toward her. “Christiana Exalted,” she rages. “Have you lost your senses? Without Nathaniel, you’re the only true heir to the throne. You must not kill yourself!”

  Christiana stares back at Mathilda, her eyes wide with shock. “The fae have already struck at the heart of our home. Aura could be here to finish the job. I have to defend my people!”

  Mathilda grabs Christiana’s arm, peering deep into her eyes. “Has fear taken priority over your brother’s life? What about your own life?”

  Christiana’s face crumples. “We could have lost everyone this morning. I won’t take any more risks.”

  Mathilda’s expression softens, but she whirls to me, her gaze quickly taking in the way I’m holding on to Nathaniel and his precarious position on Treble’s back. His black clothing and his position pressed up against my chest hide the worst of the blood, but her gaze seeks the rip in the front of his shirt where the spike protruded.

  “He’s dying,” Mathilda cries, clutching her heart. “His bright heart is barely glowing. Every second we waste takes Nathaniel closer to death.”

  She swings back to Christiana. “A few glitter bulbs are nothing! If Nathaniel dies, Imatra will control our land.”

  Glitter bulbs? I sway on Treble’s back. My left arm has turned numb. Mathilda said something about glitter bulbs, but I’m too unfocused to make sense of it.

  “What about Aura?” Christiana asks. “Is she here to kill us? You have to look into her heart and tell me. Until I know for sure, I have to treat her as a threat.”

  Dark light builds under Mathilda’s feet, lifting her up so that she rises to eye height with me, floating in the air between Treble and Christiana. When we first met yesterday morning, Mathilda tried to kill me. She called me a weapon, the murderer of a thousand human warriors. She thought Nathaniel should have ended me, not brought me to Fell country. Her attitude toward me shifted when she tried to look into my heart—she closed off and refused to say what she’d seen.

  Now, she considers me with just as much distrust, but behind her expression is another emotion I can’t make out through the haze of my pain. I can only assume it’s fear. There’s no doubt in my mind that Mathilda still believes Nathaniel should have killed me.

  “I can’t do that, Christiana,” she says, a gleam in her luminescent green eyes. “Aura’s heart is hidden from me.”

  Christiana’s jaw clenches. “Then I have no choice. Aura Lucidia is our enemy until Nathaniel can tell us otherwise. Now, please, Mathilda, take him from her.”

  Mathilda lifts her arms toward me. Her voice is gentle now, coaxing me to believe her. “It’s okay, Aura. You can let Nathaniel go. I’ve got him.”

  “Hagan too,” I say, uncertain whether Mathilda will agree to heal the hunter. “Please. He needs a second chance.”

  Christiana startles, lowering her weapon when she hears Hagan’s name. I guess she really can’t see him from the ground.

  “I can’t hold on to him,” I say to Mathilda. “My shoulder’s dislocated.”

  “Ah. I sensed your pain.” A wave of dark light flows across Mathilda’s face, casting her features into shadow. “I can take both men, but I’m afraid you will need to walk on your own. I will have to drain the environment too much to constrain you to Christiana’s satisfaction while I carry them both.”

  “I’ll follow you. I won’t fight,” I whisper, struggling to hold my head up. “You need to heal Nathaniel first. Then Hagan.”

  “You’re in pain too,” Mathilda says, her gaze narrowing in an assessing look.

  I meet her eyes. “You said I would be.”

  She told me that Nathaniel would hurt me more than she ever could, that whatever remained of my heart would be torn apart before the beginning of the third day. Nathaniel’s near-death destroyed me. Even now, my chest feels empty, a painful void. Until he’s healed, my heart won’t be healed, either.

  Mathilda gives me a cold nod. At the same time, her magic washes around my left side, icy fingers of power tugging my left arm open and prying Nathaniel from my grip. I shudder to feel her dark magic against my skin, the same sensation as Cyrian’s magic even if Mathilda isn’t causing me pain.

  I struggle to release Nathaniel into her hold. Not only because of the darkness in her eyes. I’ve forced my arm to clamp so tightly around him that I have trouble straightening my limb.

  Letting Nathaniel go makes me feel powerless again.

  Whether he lives or dies is no longer within my control.

  Now it’s all up to Mathilda, a dark witch who wants me dead.

  Chapter 5

  Nathaniel’s unconscious body tips and straightens until he lies parallel with the ground. Finally relaxing, I allow my left arm to slide to my side, a dead weight. I sense the rush of blood into my hand, but it’s a distant pain, my muscles too stretched to feel much of anything.

  On my other side, Hagan’s weight also lifts, his torn shirt fully exposing his scar. His
chest rises and falls evenly, his breathing more regular than Nathaniel’s.

  As he rises up beside Treble, Christiana takes a step back. Last night, Hagan forced her to marry him so that he could take control of her fate, for the sole purpose of freeing her. She fought him every step of the way, even when he told her to leave.

  Now, she presses her lips together in a hard line, but she doesn’t fight Mathilda as the witch slowly guides both men ahead of her and begins the careful walk back to the Bitter Patch. The plant life around Mathilda’s feet dies with every step she takes as she drains the environment to fuel her magic.

  Carefully testing the range of movement of my right arm, I draw it slowly up to my chest, nursing it. My dislocated shoulder bone protrudes at a nasty angle and the pain refuses to ease. Treble turns his head to see me, his brilliant eyes casting rapid glances across my face and torso.

  He bounces his head at me while making a low keening sound. I want to reassure him, but I can’t lie and tell him I’m okay. I also can’t get off his back until I’m sure he won’t be fired upon.

  “Get everyone back inside the Bitter Patch,” Mathilda says to Christiana as she passes her. “Quickly now. Cyrian will soon sense the magical disturbance here. I won’t be able to mask our presence out here for long. We’ll be safe inside.”

  “Lower your weapons,” Christiana calls to the trainees still standing guard around us. “Do everything Mathilda tells you to do. Esther and Geordie, you remain with me. We will escort Aura Lucidia inside.”

  The trainees quickly disengage their crossbows, pulling the bolts off them and slipping the projectiles into pouches attached to belts around their waists. They each carry at least twenty bolts, enough to take down many thunderbirds if shot accurately.

  As soon as the trainees turn their backs, I hoist my right foot over to the left, managing to extend both of my legs along Treble’s outstretched wing so I can slide to the ground. I stumble awkwardly before I reach the bottom and fall the remaining distance onto my backside with a quiet thud.

  It’s hard to care about my pride right now. Treble quickly drops his belly to the ground and folds his wing around me to hide me in a protective cocoon for a moment. He turns his head into the gap at the edge of his wing, keening at me again.

  “You have to fly,” I whisper. “Ascend above the haze, where you’ll be safe. Don’t show yourself unless I whistle for you. They don’t trust me, Treble. They will kill you if they have the chance.”

  My heart already hurts for him. My people tried to burn him out of the sky. Now the humans will target him too. All because he’s loyal to me.

  I lean against his side, unable to raise my hands to stroke his feathers as he nudges me gently.

  “You can’t stay with me,” I say. “The situation here is too volatile. I can’t lose you, Treble. You’re my only friend.”

  Treble’s glare tells me he would rather risk death than leave me on my own, but the sharp light in his eyes fades. He nudges me again, soft and gentle this time. He appears resigned now.

  I close my eyes, a small part of my heart healing because of his friendship. “Go now. Be safe.”

  A savage tug pulls me to my feet. It’s the same tug that left me with a bruised nose two days ago. Nathaniel must be on the verge of traveling too far away from me.

  Treble immediately opens his wing and I stumble away from him, coming face to face with Esther and Geordie, who both hold their crossbows ready. Christiana stands between them. She has put away her bow, but it’s not far from her reach, along with the dagger at her waist.

  “You lied to us about who you are,” Esther says, the cold light of betrayal in her eyes hurting my heart. Esther was betrayed by her sister, Ethel, and left for dead. Nathaniel rescued her and brought her here. Nathaniel told me that Esther finds it difficult to trust people. She’s also very protective of the trainees.

  When Christiana returned here last night, she would have told everyone who I really am, including that the Law of Champions has been invoked.

  “You’re Aura Lucidia,” Esther says. “Our mortal enemy. Only Nathaniel can explain what you’re really doing here. Until then, we can’t believe anything you say.”

  Nathaniel asked me to come to Null with him. He wanted me to meet his people, to fight with them. But he warned me that they would try to kill me if they found out who I am. Esther may be wrong about my motivations, but she’s correct that I deliberately deceived her. When I chose to reveal my identity to save Nathaniel’s life yesterday, I knew the consequences.

  I draw myself upright, trying to mask the screaming pain in my right arm. I won’t get any sympathy from the humans and I need to reassert my defenses. “The Law of Champions forces me to go where Nathaniel goes. I need to follow him now or Mathilda won’t be able to move him any farther.”

  Christiana steps right up to me. “My brother is the least vengeful, most forgiving person I know. He believes there is good in nearly everyone.” Her voice lowers to a quiet threat. “Do not confuse me with him. I have none of his virtues. I will do whatever it takes to protect my brother and my people from you.”

  She spins on her heel. “Bring Aura Lucidia inside.”

  Esther and Geordie incline their weapons sharply toward the Bitter Patch. I don’t need any prompting. My entire body tugs fiercely in Nathaniel’s direction. Mathilda won’t be able to take him into the Bitter Patch without me.

  I force myself to move as fast as I can, nursing my injured right arm with my wounded left arm. Neither limb is entirely functional. Sharp pain jars through me with every step. I spent the last few hours at Cyrian’s mercy. My ability to compartmentalize the pain now is stretched to its breaking point.

  I can’t stop the tears falling down my cheeks, a necessary release. It might make me look weak, but I have to deal with the pain somehow. Focusing on my exhalations and inhalations, on the rush of air in and out of my mouth, I block out the threat of the crossbows held by Geordie and Esther, who keep pace with me on either side.

  Mathilda waves us forward as we approach. All of the trainees have disappeared into the Bitter Patch ahead of her. Nathaniel and Hagan float, waiting, in front of the wash of crimson and black foliage. My heart lurches, knowing that I’m holding up Nathaniel’s healing.

  I race forward, pushing myself as fast I can go. I’d run if I could.

  As soon as I reach Nathaniel’s side, Mathilda uses her magic to pull aside the vines covering the opening into the tunnel through the Bitter Patch.

  Nathaniel appears calm. He could be sleeping except for his shallow breathing. His expression hasn’t changed since I used my power to ease his mind, his face free from pain, even though he’s deathly pale.

  I hurry behind them as Mathilda maneuvers both men through the opening. They won’t fit side by side. She floats Hagan ahead of her while Nathaniel follows. It’s a small mercy that I can follow right behind him as he proceeds through the tunnel of vines and bushes.

  Yesterday, he dyed my hair in the tunnel on the other side of the Bitter Patch. He planted kisses on my neck and cheeks, and I fell asleep because of his touch, a rare moment of peace.

  Esther follows close behind me with Christiana behind her and Geordie taking up the rear.

  “Aura,” Mathilda calls back, turning slightly. “Will you tell us what happened in the fight between Hagan and Nathaniel?”

  I open my mouth to answer, but Christiana interrupts me. “We can’t trust her version of events.”

  Mathilda presses her lips together. “Very well. If you won’t believe her, then we will wait to hear it from Nathaniel himself.”

  We travel silently for the next ten minutes. The pace is grueling—it would be nothing if I weren’t injured, but every step hurts.

  I watch Nathaniel’s chest carefully, checking for signs that his condition is deteriorating, but he appears stable. Hagan remains unconscious, although the color is returning to his cheeks.

  Finally, we exit the protective boundary of the
Bitter Patch into Null itself. I sense the spell lift from my tongue—the protective magic that stops anyone speaking about what happens here—finally able to think clearly about this place and the people who live inside its walls.

  The other trainees have already taken up positions to form a wide guard around us, keeping their eyes on me, even if their weapons are lowered. I recognize many of their faces, but I don’t see Emily or the other teens among them. It appears that only the older trainees have come out to guard me.

  Mathilda calls ahead of us. “Hurry! I will take Nathaniel and Hagan to the food hall. I can treat them there.”

  “What about Nathaniel’s hut?” I ask, not expecting her to answer me, but she half-turns again.

  “See for yourself,” Mathilda says, pointing.

  Nathaniel’s hut is set slightly back and apart from the others, closest to the eastern side of Null. As we pass it, I inhale the scent of cedarwood and follow Mathilda’s pointed finger toward the porch.

  A sea of glitter bulbs fills the space between the top step and the door. They’re each no bigger than my closed fist, but there are so many of them that they gleam and sparkle like a deadly ocean.

  I miss a step. “What is this?”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know!” Christiana snaps, suddenly a picture of rage beside me. “They floated into Null this morning. All of them landed right there on Nathaniel’s porch. A clever assassination plan. The only way your queen would know where to send them is if you told her about us. If Nathaniel had been inside his hut, he would have been killed.”

  “You brought terror into the heart of Null,” Esther says with an angry stare. “We evacuated everyone to the other side of the village.”

  Mathilda casts me a quick glance. “I’ve placed a protective barrier around Nathaniel’s hut to stop anyone going near it, but it will take a miracle to contain the explosive power of that many bulbs if they’re triggered.”