King of Merits: A Fae Romance (Black Blood Fae Book 3)

Riven

“Move!” Thorne growls. “Or your boots will be splattered.” For the fifth time this evening, his body bends violently as he empties what’s left of his guts over the pavement.

With my usual impeccable timing, I step behind him and pat his hunched-over back. “I’m sorry, Thorne, I can see I must arrange more transferring practice for you.”

Glaring at me, he wipes his mouth. “I’d rather have my teeth pulled, ground up, and fed to me in my porridge.”

I laugh. “That, too, can be arranged.”

We’ve spent the last hour transferring all over the city, our deadliest swords strapped to our bodies and magic primed with druidic rituals, searching for a trace of the mystery interloper. So far, our efforts have been in vain.

When we hit the outskirts of Blackthorn Forest, my worldly sight dims, and my inner perception blazes with a vision that shocks me to the core. Bathed in moonlight, in my mind’s eye, I see the enormous broken clock in the sunken library, its pendulum swinging to and fro.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

The fact that the clock is awake disturbs me greatly. Its magic can only ignite when a life form of consequence enters its domain—fae or human. Instantly, my thoughts leap to Merri. Was she foolish enough to journey to the library on her own?

I focus my concentration internally and search through the ruins. It doesn’t take long to find her, lying unconscious surrounded by books and broken gilded rafters.

There’s no time to give Thorne any warning. I grip his shoulder and dematerialize faster than I’ve ever done in my life, picturing the old library, my thoughts focused on a book about the goddess Arianrhod that I saw cushioning Merri’s head in my vision.

When I open my eyes, my jaw drops in shock. We’re standing on the edge of the library crater, not at the bottom of it where I’d planned to arrive. How did this happen? I’ve never miscalculated a transfer before.

I clench my teeth and attempt to transfer again. It doesn’t work. Nothing happens, and only a slight buzz of particle disturbance runs along my skin. A barrier of foreign magic encircles the crater and is somehow preventing me from moving through it.

“By the Infernal Sun, Thorne, Merri is down there, and I cannot transfer to her. Whoever she’s with has the ability to obstruct an Unseelie king’s power. This is disastrous.” I take a step closer to the mouth of the crater. “Stay there. Don’t follow me.”

As I throw myself into the cavern’s dark maw, Thorne lunges for me, his claws scraping my bracer. “Riven, wait!”

Roaring, I run and tumble down the wreckage of the ancient Library of Souls, my body rolling at the bottom before I leap onto my feet, sword drawn.

In the charged silence, the moonlight reveals Merri curled over a small pile of books, her wrists shackled. I see no creature hovering nearby, but their malevolent energy coats her form like tar.

The magic I desperately will into my limbs doesn’t spark, not even a little. Only a cocktail of panic and terror shoots through my veins. My power is blocked—inert and useless. Without it, how can I destroy Merri’s captor and remove her to safety?

A thud sounds as Thorne lands beside me, drawing his sword and slashing at the air.

“Damn you, Thorne,” I hiss. “I told you to stay put.”

He chuckles. “Since when do I listen to you?”

“Never.” I take advantage of the cover his sword provides and scuttle crab-like toward Merri. Taking great care, I inspect her.

I’m relieved to find no obvious injuries, but her pulse is weak from the poisoned chains. I try to blast them off and am unsurprised when my magic fails once again.

“Now’s the time to fight, Princess,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Don’t give in to the iron. Fight it with your every breath. Please.”

She groans in answer, but I don’t hold much hope—like Thorne, she never listens to me either. Croaking sounds come from the mouth of the cave, the seven grief ravens cawing together around the edge.

Death is coming.

Thorne shuffles backward, moving closer to us. “Riven, get up! Something is—”

Before he can finish, an explosion of light blinds me momentarily. I throw myself over Merri, protecting her as rocks, plaster, and gold dirt rain down. What the hell just happened? I shove onto my feet, my gaze searching the cavern and sword swinging wildly.

Thorne is gone. Where in the Blood Sun is he?

“Thorne?” I bellow, my pulse roaring in my ears. “For Dana’s sake, answer me. Are you all right?”

A moment’s silence. Then an insidious chuckle comes from a small branch of the cave directly in front of me, followed by a voice slithering out of the darkness. “Poor impotent Silver King. Do not fear. Your friend may well survive after a long period of sleep. Or perhaps he won’t. After some time has passed, Merri will most definitely wake, but by then, it will be too late for you, and she’ll already be mine.”

“Show yourself!” The muffled echo of my words answers me. I wait, counting heart beats.

One, two. One, two. One, two.

My patience snaps. “My power is blocked, yet yours remains. You’re a gutless coward if you refuse to face me. Forever unworthy of a princess of the Bright Court.” My knuckles crack on the sword hilt, blood and rage priming my muscles for a fight to the death.

Stones shift and crunch as a pair of boots treads over the ruins. A red-headed fae emerges from the shadows.

“You!” I snarl. I cannot believe the pompous peafowl from the Land of Five stands before me, the one who was exiled for implicating Merri and the Fire queen in my capture.

In what realm is it possible for him to best Thorne and me?

I must stay calm and think. I fold my fury over and over until it’s the size of a lump of coal and lodges in the middle of my chest. I nod toward Merri. “Can’t you obtain a girl without knocking one unconscious and stealing her?”

He laughs again and draws his sword. “For Merrin to be stolen, she would need to belong to someone first.”

“She belongs to her land,” I roar. “To her family and loved ones, and most of all to herself.”

“And now, as you can see, forsaking all others, she belongs to me.”

Kian Leondearg inhales a long, smug draft of air through his quivering nostrils. He had better make the most of it, because his breaths in this realm are numbered. He just doesn’t realize it yet.

I circle him slowly, my muscles drawn taut, ready to pounce.

“So this is all about, Merri?” I ask.

“Of course. As it has always been.”

“Why the obsession?” I slash my blade through the air in a lemniscate pattern. “Did she make you cry once, and like a pathetic milksop, you vowed to have your revenge and one day conquer her?”

Madness glints in his eyes. “Merrin and I are made for each other. I knew it the very moment I saw her.”

“When she was an infant? An appalling concept, proving your words are those of a deluded psychopath.”

Kian palms something on the left side of his chest, then thrusts his hand toward me. A bolt of purple shoots out, and I sidestep it with ease. My power might be suspended, but I’m fast, and Kian is flustered and slow.

He clutches his chest, spewing childish insults that make me feel pity rather than fear. Then I remember Thorne lying in the dirt. And Merri.

Rage shudders through me.

I have curses I wish to hurl at him, too, but I plan to deliver every one of them with the edge of my sword.

Before he has time to activate the damned thing in his breast pocket that enables his magic, I run at him with an ear-splitting war cry. He blocks my blade with his own, and we slash back and forth, sliding up and down the hills and valleys of decayed books and scrolls.

The clash of metal and our labored grunts punctuate each violent move, keeping time. Lunge, slash, parry. Slash, parry, slash. Forward. Back. Circle. Slash. Slash. Slash.

Mold and the sour smell of fear saturates the air, telling me that Kian’s corpse will soon be contributing to the rot in the cavern, not mine. He’s afraid, and the heady scent of his terror calls to my Unseelie nature, honing my movements, making them sharper. Faster and deadlier.

I lead the brutal dance and spin him in a swift pattern as we range from wall to wall. On top of the highest mountain of books, I lunge, drawing my dagger from its belt, and aim a killing blow at the Elemental’s neck. Before my dagger bites his flesh, a blast of magic rips it from my hand. The blade flies down one side of the hill, and the blast sends me somersaulting to the bottom of the other.

Kian sheathes his sword and leaps down the hill of debris after my blade, which has landed beside Merri, within reach of her limp hand.

“No!” I yell, scrabbling across slippery paper and earth toward them.

Kian snatches my knife from the ground and slashes wildly at Merri, her sharp cry of pain searing my soul.

I make the sound of a wounded bear—half roar, half cry. “You said you wouldn’t hurt her! If you have, runt, you’ll pay with eternal suffering. I vow it.”

Kian hunches over her like a sniveling bag of blood and bones. “She’ll survive. ’Tis only a tiny wound. I needed a little more blood, more power in order to kill you, Merit. You shall be the one to suffer, not I.”

He tosses my knife to the far reaches of the cave. As he does this, without warning, Merri lurches up and stabs Kian in the armpit with one of the tiny bone daggers she wears. Then, while he’s reeling in shock, she throws herself on him. He topples backward as her bound hands claw at his chest, tearing fabric. A triumphant yelp, and she flings a tiny stone across the cavern.

Kian howls, scrambling after it.

“Stop him, Riven,” yells Merri. “The stone powers his magic. Quickly!”

I hurtle across the cave and leap onto his back. We crash on the ground next to a sludgy quagmire of filth. We both roll onto our feet at the same time. Kian draws his blade, and as he raises it, his eyes narrow on the labradorite stone shimmering on the edge of the pool of quicksand-like mud. The gem must be powerful indeed because he spends a moment too long contemplating making a dive for it instead of fighting me with his sword.

I regain his attention with the edge of my blade as it clangs on his vivid-blue armor. Puffing and glowering, he attacks, but without the stone, his efforts are weak.

One slash. Two. Three. Four more, then our swords lock, and I wish I still had the dagger he threw away so I could gut him with it. Kian presses his weight against my sword, his arms shuddering. I push back with all my might, silently thanking Thorne for the endless, punishing hours of daily training he makes me endure.

Heat boils inside me. If I were human, I’d be sweating rivers by now. But I’m not. I am fae, the king of the Unseelie.

With a grunt, I step back, and Kian stumbles. Then I feint, and he retreats again, slamming against the wall and going for his pocket.

“Bad luck. Your little toy is gone.” Lightning fast, I slash his sword from his grip, and it clatters to his feet.

Blood drips from his arm, white bone glistening from an ugly gash, and I bare my teeth in a merciless grin as I kick his sword away then close in.

Gusts of his sour breath fan my face, and I wrap one hand around his reed-thin throat, not squeezing yet. Simply waiting.

“I shall enjoy making Merrin cry,” he wheezes. “After I kill you, she will live to regret every humiliation she inflicted upon me.”

“And how do you plan to defeat me? Currently, you’re powerless. But that’s your usual state, isn’t it, Leondearg? You’ve always been less than any creature around you. Even slugs, maggots, rotting corpses.”

He spits in my face and then bursts into tears, snot hanging from his pointy chin.

The holey stone I gave Merri dangles from his neck. With a hard tug, I break the cord and pocket it.

Eager to finish him off, I shove him to the ground. As his power ebbs, mine flows through my veins, strength returning to my body.

I could pop this fae’s head like a grape or rip his coward’s heart from his puny chest in the blink of an eye. But, no, given what he’s tried to take from me—Merri and my best friend—his death must be slow. And satisfying.

Kian writhes on his back. Flipping his body, I push him face-first into the pool of thick mud, muffling his blood-curdling screams.

Trembling with rage, I hold him in place. Not pressing hard enough to snap his neck or suffocate him, but making sure my nails pierce his skin and that he’ll stay conscious for as long as possible. And die slowly.

The grief ravens cry shrilly above. My vision tunnels to black as the library disappears, my entire being focused on the Seelie’s muffled death cries. His body flails, and I keep the pressure steady, allowing a small pocket of air to form. Extending the horror.

“Riven, enough. End it. Please.”

Merri’s voice releases me from the trance, and I contract my fingers fast, breaking the vermin’s neck. I stand and step backward, scanning the cavern. The Seelie is dead. But where is his talisman, the source of his foul power?

I search the shadows until I find the stone, then pick it up, its dark magic burning the pads of my fingers. With a snarl, I toss it at the ground, the heel of my boot chasing it fast and smashing it into fine powder.

A putrid green light and a noxious smell explode in the cavern. Thankfully, both dissipate quickly. I crack my neck, moving it side to side, as the remainder of my power returns, vibrating first in my chest, my gut, then snaking through my limbs like molten lava. The spectral crown of jet appears, buzzing and flickering on top of my head, a sign I am fully restored. An Unseelie king once more.

“Riven, my chains.” Merri collapses against a ruined velvet sofa, her skin deathly pale. “Hurry.”

I stumble over to her, and with a single thought, crack the iron from her wrists, then carefully help her onto her feet.

“You found me.” Merri smiles and lifts her hands toward the sky as snow falls from the cavern’s opening and eddies around us, just like it does in my visions.

I step back, fear jumbling my thoughts as she collects a flake from the air and places it on her tongue. “See? This snow can’t harm us, Riven. It’s a manifestation of my joy, my relief that, tonight, we survived the terrors of our visions. We did it. Together.”

Our visions?

I think of my dreams and the pictures in the scrying well that began the day she was born, back when I had no clue what she would come to mean to me.

There is no pond of silver in this library. No tree of gold. But, still, I can’t deny that most of the events I foresaw in the druid’s well have come to pass.

I first met her at the pond. It snowed then, too. The ancient library clock is gold, its rusty tick-tocking akin to the cracking of branches. The knife. Her blood. It has all happened. Yet neither of us are dead.

Yet.

“Wait here,” Merri says as she strolls to a corner of the cavern, searching for something. She returns with my knife and softly opens my palm, laying the blade on it. “Look at your knife, Riven, covered in blood—my blood—and both of us are safe.”

Mesmerized, I stare at the dark red color, and then without wiping the knife, I sheathe it. “You’ll be safer when I get you out of this library. I wish I’d ordered the infernal thing to be filled in years ago. Come.”

“But Thorne—where is he?”

Thorne. Of course. How could I have forgotten him, even momentarily?

We find him lying under a fallen beam, its weight supported by the frame of a huge window. I remove stained-glass fragments from his body and then feel for his pulse, relieved to find he still has one. Merri and I crouch next to him, and we take his body in our arms.

“Close your eyes,” I tell her. “It will help prevent nausea when we dematerialize.”

We transfer out of the library, intentionally landing close to the cavern’s entrance to give Thorne a chance to recover. He wakes, rolling onto his side, then vomits on the grass. “What happened?”

“Quite a bit,” I tell him. “Rest a while before we return to the castle, and I’ll fill you in over breakfast.”

“Breakfast? No thank you.” His eyelids flutter, and he collapses against the ground.

I push onto my feet and go to Merri who stands nearby, watching the russet sunrise on the horizon. “Are you all right?” I ask.

She walks into my arms and wraps her hands behind my neck. “Riven. Yes, finally. All is well.”

Her voice is soft, her fingers warm against my skin. I should push her away. But I don’t. I can’t.

“Consider how the night’s events played out. Instead of killing me as your visions foretold, you saved me.” She laughs softly. “Then, of course, I saved the three of us by getting rid of that stone. But, Riven, don’t you see? You’re not the monster you believe yourself to be.”

“Maybe I’m not a monster, but I can never give you what you desire. Go home, Merri. Go back to where you belong, where people love you and will keep you safe. Take the human girl with you. Get as far away as you can from the influence of my court. Your mage can release Summer from the thrall she suffers under and return her to the mortal world.”

Instantly, her gaze turns wintry as she drops her arms to her sides. Mine remain wrapped loosely around her waist.

“If that’s what you wish,” she says, “then so be it. I’ll not stand here begging you to see sense.”

“I am glad,” I say, the words slicing through my skull like a lie. “I’ll help you contact your mages and—”

“I don’t need your assistance. Now that I’m no longer iron-sick, I’m certain the Elements will hear me. I’ll be gone before you know it.” She moves to leave my embrace.

“Wait.” I tighten my arms around her, and for a moment, hope sparks in her eyes. I draw a painful breath. “Where did Kian get the stone? Do you remember the presence of another being? He can’t possibly have achieved what he did alone.”

Confusion clouds her expression. “There was someone.” She rubs her forehead. “I…I just can’t remember.”

“Fae or beast? Male or female?” I press.

“I don’t know. A female, perhaps. Their image is blocked to me. I can only feel their energy and extreme hatred for me. I’m sorry.”

Then this being is strong, and my troubles are far from over.

Merri’s lips touch mine, soft as butterfly wings that land for only a moment, drawing power. She walks toward the trees and calls out the name Ether. Wispy clouds form the letters of the being’s name and float upward before the wind whisks them away.

A Land of Five mage appears, her billowing mane of hair so white it’s translucent. She’s wrapped in flowing silks of silver and has eyes as dark as the eternal void. Her face is tranquil, her smile warm and reassuring, then she speaks, and something deep within me quakes.

“Merri, child. How lovely to see you. I should have known you wouldn’t call me when your life was in danger, but instead when your heart is. You’ve always valued sentiment above sense. Do not take my meaning wrong; for this reason, I respect you greatly.”

The mage gives me a pointed glance. “Many a fool could take your lead, Merrin, and rule by their hearts, thereby improving their realm’s happiness and prosperity immeasurably.”

Ether criticizes the way I rule my kingdom, but I can find no words of defense.

“I did call for you, High Mage, but my pleas were blocked by magic.” Merri curtsies deeply. “Thank you for coming.”

“Silver King,” says Ether. “I hadn’t taken you for a fool, and we all make mistakes from time to time. I ask you this—will you learn from yours before it’s too late?”

I’ve no idea what she’s referring to. It could be any number of things. Still, I incline my head respectfully. This Elemental mage is older than time itself and most likely precedes the druids. She could turn me to dust with the snap of her fingers. I’m not about to argue with her.

“No? Are you still oblivious?” She tsk tsks like a disapproving nursemaid. “You disappoint me.”

Wonderful. I’ll add her to the ever-growing list of those who find me lacking.

Something in her expression tugs a memory I cannot place. A thread of dread that connects to nothing solid. I’ve never met the High Mage of Talamh Cúig before, so there’s no reason for me to be wary of her. And yet…an irrational fear settles deep inside me.

Merri frowns, giving her full attention to the High Mage and excluding me by turning away. “Ether, there’s a human girl in the city. Her name is Summer, and she must return with us. Can you wait while I find her?”

Stepping forward, I clasp Merri’s arm. “No need. I can send for her and—”

“No,” the mage’s voice thunders. “In the time you wasted speaking, I have called her forth. Silver King, I suggest you take your hands off what isn’t yours to touch.”

I do as Ether bids but not without considerable effort. My mind wants Merri gone. It seems my body does not.

Leaves tremble in the branches above, and a limp-limbed girl drops onto the ground. The human, dressed warmly as though ready to depart on a journey.

“Summer,” says Merri. “We’re returning to my home, the Elemental Court where light lives in the hearts of nearly all the creatures in its bounds. There, I promise you will be well-treated. Safe. Do you wish to come with us in free will?”

Summer shudders. “Does the Winter prince live there?” Her voice is low, a breeze rustling through reeds.

My boots shuffle around the uneven ground. I want to see the smile I’m sure Merri will be giving to the girl.

“Yes, indeed. Prince Wynter resides at my court.”

She speaks no lie. I know that’s her brother’s name.

“Then, yes! Of course, I want to go with you.” Like a child, the bewitched human spins three times. “Let’s go. Please, hurry!”

Wearing a mysterious smile, Ether opens her arms. Merri takes the human’s hand, and they step toward the mage.

The princess gives me no backward glance nor any parting words. Not one. Not even goodbye.

“Merrin…wait,” I say. “You forgot something.”

She turns, her expression blank and spine set in a rigid line. I put the holey stone in her palm, and she stares at it like it’s a poisonous snake but pockets it anyway. Still, she says nothing.

Why won’t she speak?

“You can’t even say goodbye to me?” I ask. “Nor grant me a wish for a long and happy life?”

“I suppose I can try.” A stiff smile freezes on her face. “Goodbye, Riven. I’m very grateful you came when I needed help—these words I can say with ease. But the things I wish for you are my own secrets to keep well-guarded. One day, if you can raise the courage, you’re welcome to come and find me and ask me to unlock them.”

And with those words, the apricot-colored sky folds over itself like a freshly laundered sheet, and Merri, the mage, and the human all disappear within it.

The Elemental princess is gone.

From the Court of Merits.

From my life.

But not from my dreams.

As I crouch down to tend to Thorne, the library clock taunts me from the inky depths below.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock, it says.

Time is running out.