Bride of the Shadow King

I stand on the brink of the chasm, gazing down to the fiery river below. It winds through the darkness like a living vein, carrying life and heat through the bowels of our world. For ages beyond count it has safeguarded Mythanar, encircling the city and warding off all who would seek to do her harm. Save those foolish enough to carry harm in on their own bowed backs.

Behind me, the Queen’s Garden hums gently with life. Mothcats leap and bound among the rock formations and clamber among mosses and draping jiru vines, chasing fluttering olk, only pausing long enough to groom their long, plumed tails. They do not approach me as they usually would.

A footstep crunches in the pebbles behind me. I tense but do not turn. Part of me expects to hear that footstep quicken suddenly, for hands to shove me hard in the spine and send me stumbling, arms wheeling, over the edge of the chasm. My stomach plunges with the sensation of a fall that does not come. Gods, will this paranoia ever fade?

“The company is nearly ready to depart.” It’s Sul, standing several yards back from the sound of it. Apparently, he’s not about to make an attempt on my life. Not yet anyway. “Yok begged leave to join again. I figured you wouldn’t mind. We leave within the hour. I wanted to speak to you before we go.”

“Why?” The word slices from my lips like a dagger thrust. “Are you looking for another chance to poison me?”

Silence.

I turn, my shoulders hunched, my eyes narrowed. Sul catches and holds my gaze. His brow slowly creases. “What in the morar-juk are you talking about?” he demands.

I pivot my weight on my heels, whirling on him. In three long strides I cover the space between us, grasp him by the throat with both hands, and force him to his knees. Sul doesn’t have a chance to cry out, to defend himself. I yank his face up close to mine, snarling through clenched teeth. “I’ve been thinking about our little heart-to-heart in the antechamber. You gave me krilge to drink. It tasted strange, and then . . . and then . . .”

How can I describe the fiery rage that came over me? The same rage which even now fights to take mastery of my body, my soul, driving me out of my mind, fueling me with pure savagery.

Sul stares up at me, eyes goggling. He grapples with my arms, a wriggling worm in my grasp. “My king!” he gasps, the words choked from his gullet. “I would never . . . never . . .”

I squeeze harder. “You would never put traces of raog into my drink? You would never drive me to madness to accomplish your own aims? You would never see done to me what was done to Xag and all the folk of Dugorim?”

His eyes are rolling, desperate. Green flames lick the edges of my vision and cast his face in a ghastly light. It would be all too easy to succumb to the urging of those flames. To let go all restraint. To forget myself and simply become that which the heat awakens inside of me.

“Brother!” Sul chokes.

With a roar, I fling him to the ground. He gasps, gags, drags in ragged breaths, his face pressed into the dirt. I plant my foot on his neck, pinning him in place. “Swear to me your loyalty,” I snarl. “Swear you are still the brother you’ve always claimed to be. Swear it on the Deeper Dark. Swear it on the Dragon.”

“I swear!” he sputters. His whole body goes limp and submissive beneath my weight. “I swear it, Vor! I would never betray you!”

A terrible choice looms before me. I may either believe my brother or not. There is no in-between. And if I cannot believe Sul anymore, what hope is there for me? How can I face a world in which my trust is broken so completely? Faraine lied to me. Hael failed me. And Sul? Would Sul stoop so low in his determination to do what he thought was right for Mythanar?

Perhaps. But I’ve always believed Sul’s first loyalty lay with me. Above crown. Above kingdom. If I don’t have my brother’s loyalty, I may as well cast myself over the chasm edge here and now.

With a ragged exhale of breath, I remove my foot from Sul’s neck and step back. His head still in the dirt, he twists to look up at me. His eyes are wide, frightened. “Rise,” I growl, and pass a hand over my face. “Rise, brother.”

He scrambles to his knees and sits on his heels, still gaping at me. Finally, after many long, steadying breaths, he says, “Raog poison?”

I nod. “In the drink.”

“I would never do that to you. I would take the draught myself first.”

I believe him. In that moment at least. “But someone did.”

Sul curses bitterly. “I’ll find out who. I’ll hunt down the servant who brought the krilge. If he is not responsible, he may know who is. I’ll get my spies on it right away, before I set out for the Gate.” He gets unsteadily to his feet, still breathing hard. “I promise, Vor. I’ll find answers for you.”

I turn from him, gaze out over the chasm once more. The threat of rising poison has been brewing for many cycles now. But this? This is something new. Someone has learned to harness the poison, to contain it in small, targeted doses, and used it to manipulate me. I never would have suspected anything so terrible. Next time, will anything stop me and my murderous impulses? Will anyone prevent me from destroying everything I love in this world?

“Make your journey swift,” I say, casting the words over my shoulder. “I need you back in Mythanar as soon as possible. Until you are here, there is no one I can trust.”

“You can trust Hael.”

“Can I?”

“You know you can.” Sul’s voice is uncharacteristically earnest. “Don’t punish her, Vor. The humans . . . they’re clever and deceitful. And their Miphates magic is more potent than we initially thought. It’s not her fault.”

“Perhaps not.” It’s the most I can acknowledge. I won’t forgive her. Not yet.

I drop my head, close my eyes. Feel the vastness of the drop below me and the rising heat of the river below. “I was so certain,” I say, more to myself than to Sul. “I was so sure I’d found a way to save us all. And now . . .”

Now I feel the mounting pressure of annihilation. A world-ending force beyond anything I have the capacity to face or to defend against. Did I really think my futile machinations could be effective against such elemental powers of destruction?

Maybe my stepmother is right. Maybe it’s time we all prepared our souls for the inevitable.

My hands squeeze into fists. I’m not done. The alliance with Gavaria is not broken yet. And Sul is right—this deception has only proven the cleverness of those human mages. There may be a way to set things right, to gain access to the magic I need. If I can only find the right angle.

“Off with you,” I say to my brother without looking back. “Escort the human woman to her people. See she is not harmed while in your keeping.”

“And what of the princess, my king? What is to become of her?”

That is a question to which I have no answer. But I must find an answer. Soon. Because in that moment, standing on the brink of the chasm, I know only one thing for certain.

Faraine will be my life. Or my doom.