Court of Ice and Ash: A Dark Fantasy Romance (The Broken Kingdoms Book 2)

THE PRISON WAS A storm of screams, battle commands, and blood. The heat of it, the taste of it, stirred the call to the lust inside.

I rolled one of my axes in my grip. Not now.

More than ever, we needed to get to Halvar and disappear. Tor paused in a long passageway and glanced out the window once more.

“They’re Ettans,” he said.

“Ettans?” I followed him to the window, careful to remain out of sight. From where we stood the invaders were visible. They carried painted wooden shields and rammed the gate again and again. Not with a battering ram, with something else. The spark of fury was in the air. It didn’t make sense. “Tor, Night Folk are with them.”

“They’re rising up?” He seemed as astonished as me. “Why after all this time?”

I shook my head. We had not done all we planned to weaken Ravenspire; not yet. But here was the outcome we’d wanted all along, and it was unraveling before our eyes. A pitiful army, no mistake. Small, but organized.

They must’ve been led by someone with skill, and clear plans.

“We need not worry about them,” I said. “We use this to get out with Halvar. Hurry.”

In the lower cells the few air fae locked inside were banging on their bars and shouting curses at the gods. As if the chaos of the battle had stirred something awake in them.

“Halvar!” Tor shouted.

“Hells,” a tall fae grumbled. “Him again. Give another a chance. He’s gone.”

I ignored him at first, until we arrived at a shattered cell in the corner. The hinges glowed like embers, and steam came from the iron. It was empty and Halvar was nowhere in the block.

Fury heated my blood. Had they discovered his true identity? I shouted my anger and slammed the head of my axe against the bars. The ore on the cells bent and groaned.

I’d never been skilled at controlling fury when emotions took hold.

I turned to the prisoner, gripped his bars, and bent them. He watched in a bit of horror and awe as I stepped into his cell. “Where was he taken?”

“I-I-I don’t know. Some serfs came and . . . they broke him out. I’ve heard of you.” He scanned my mask, glanced at the axe in hand. “Blood Wraith?”

“Tor.” I ignored the man and turned out of the cell. “We find him. Now.”

“Wait. Let me come with you, Wraith.”

“No.”

“I’m a good fighter. I’m good with fury. Please. I can help you.”

I wheeled on him. “What is your name?”

“Stieg. I can fight with you.” He looked again at the bent bars; no doubt filled with questions. “We all can.”

There were only two more fae who answered with pleas to free them.

“We don’t need more air folk,” I said and stomped back to Tor.

Stieg followed.

“Not everyone has air fury. These two have different talents. Take us and we’d swear to you, Wraith. We might be in a hole, but we hear talk. We know how you torment these Timoran bastards.”

“You’re in bindings.” He was, but the others weren’t. “Why just you?”

Stieg shrugged. “Don’t know.”

“Because the woman and I are not air fae,” another prisoner said. His arms were bloodied and bruised, but he grinned. “They think we’re broken and not a threat.”

“Are you saying you are a threat?”

“Absolutely.”

“What do they call you.”

“Casper.”

I looked around at the cells. Casper had a ragged beard, tattered clothes, and one eye had swelled shut. The woman looked like she wanted to slit a throat the way she glared.

Tor met my eye. He gave his head a subtle shake as if he already knew what I was going to do. “Fury will tell them too much.”

True, but they had the same look of hate for ravens as I did. “If you join us, you call me Blood Wraith or Legion Grey. What you will see may cause you to think things, but don’t. If you call me anything but these names, I will kill you. Agreed?”

“I’ll call you any name you like if you get my sorry ass out of here,” said Casper.

This was a risk, but we could use extra hands now that we’d be fighting our way to Halvar. I lowered to a crouch, pressed my hand against the stone floor. As a boy the burn of fury drew tears to my eyes. Sol teased me relentlessly, and I learned to crave it instead.

My fingertips heated on the stone. The cells trembled as the ore, rock, and soil bent against my magic. The prisoners gasped and scrambled back when slowly the bars creaked. They bent at different angles. Some cracked.

I closed my eyes, pressure growing on my shoulders. Fury was taxing and this was more than I’d exerted since the curse lifted.

“Three hells,” Stieg said in a breathless gasp.

I cried out a final wave and watched as the bars on their cells widened and broke at last. Dust settled. The prisoners stared at me, still in their cells, as if I might break them much the same.

I wiped sweat off my brow with the back of my hand and stood, retrieving my axe. “We’re leaving. Stay and gawk if you like.”

I didn’t wait for any of them before sprinting toward a drain at the back of the cell block.

“No, no,” Stieg said, laughing. “We’re coming, Wraith. My lot is cast with the earth bender.”

“They will slow us down,” Tor grumbled.

“Do you all know how to fight?” I asked.

“Night Folk learn to hold a blade in Timoran or we die,” said Casper.

“You said you were not Night Folk.”

“When?” Casper asked. “It’s not my fault if ravens don’t understand there are more talents than air and pyre and illusion. My talent is with water. Different, like you, Wraith. You bend the earth, and it makes me wonder if you—”

“What did I say?” I snapped. “Know me by two names or I cut your throat.”

“Give us a blade or get out of the way. All men want to do is talk.” The woman shoved her way through. Her hair was dark and cut in jagged layers. Beneath the grime and dirt on her face two silver piercings gleamed in her cheeks. Her skin was soft brown, but her eyes were nearly gold, and her wrists were absent of the silver binders.

“Are you Night Folk?”

“No,” she said. “I was traded here to be used for your king, then I heard he died.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Used in what way?”

“I am what is called an Alver.”

My stomach flipped. “From the East? We know an Elixist.”

The woman grinned viciously. “They are my favorite Kind. I am called a Profetik.”

“What the hells is an Alver?” Stieg whispered to Casper. He simply shrugged.

“As a Profetik Kind my senses are impossible to match,” said the woman. “But taste is my greatest talent. I was here to be a poison taster for your king.”

“He is not my king,” I snarled.

“I don’t care. You get me out of here, I will be indebted, and I will stand with you until it is repaid.”

“You do not return home?”

She winced, a bit of her hardened shell breaking. “I will repay this debt, but I will return. I have a husband who searches for me. An Elixist with more skill than I’ve ever seen. He will tear the world apart to find me, and I rather like these smelly boys. I’d hate to watch them get caught in the crossfire of his rage.”

I grinned beneath my mask. “Your name? If we are to bleed together, we ought to know what to call each other.”

The woman lifted her chin. “Junius of Skítkast. I prefer Junie.”

The name of her homeland was familiar. Bevan—he’d mentioned it before. If it was as wild and untamed as Bevan said, then we could count on Junius knowing her way around a blade.

“Tor, give them the means to defend themselves.” With a grunt, Tor handed out three of his knives. I took out the second axe. “We don’t know who is attacking, but we are not here for that fight. We came to retrieve our guild member. Help us, and you’re free.”

“We’re yours, Blood Wraith,” Stieg said. He bowed his head, almost as if he suspected something else.

Let him. He’d done as I asked and did not question, did not use another name.

“Casper,” I said. “Your fury connects with water?”

“A strangeling, that’s what my maj always called me. Not quite typical Night Folk. More like a water nyk.”

“There are canals under these cells. Can you clear the water enough for us to pass?”

“Depends on how much, but I could likely get it, so we don’t drown, at least.”

I kicked dirt and rancid straw away from one of the iron grates in the floor. Together, Tor and I lifted the grate away and stared into musty blackness. “Down there. What do you need?”

“Nothing.” Casper stroked his wiry beard, then cracked his neck side to side. “All I need to do is swim.”

“Careful,” I warned. “There is likely a current.”

“I’m a good swimmer, Wraith. Touching, though, how close we’ve become so quickly that you’re worried for me. They call you the Bane of Timoran, but you’re a bleeding lover under all that aren’t you?”

“All right,” Tor said, shoving Casper’s shoulder. “Get on with it.”

Casper snickered and leveraged his legs into the hole. I was glad for the red mask tonight. They didn’t need to see any hint of the smile underneath. This reminded me too much of life before the raids. When Night Folk and Ettans teased, laughed, and lived together in peace.

It made me want to fight for a crown I didn’t desire. One I didn’t deserve.

I had no plans to wear it, but I had grand plans to burn it.

Before he disappeared, Casper faced me. “I’ll call you when it’s clear.”

Then, he was gone.

Silence thickened like smoke, choking breath, and stilling the senses until all we could do was stand still and wait.

A cry of pain echoed from the bottom.

“Casper!” Stieg shouted.

Nothing.

Sweat slickened my hold on the axes. He had little time before we would need to abandon him and take a different route. If water talented fury could not clear the canals, we didn’t stand a chance.

Perhaps fate brought us here with Casper, an unbound water fae. A warning that my original plan was futile. I would’ve gotten us killed.

“Clear!” Casper’s voice called up to us.

I let out a long breath, shoulders slumped. My relief lasted a single moment. “Go,” I told Junie. “Go.”

She was brave, this foreign Alver woman. I’d give her that. She did not question, did not hesitate, before following Casper into the darkness. Tor and Stieg went one after the other. I slipped into the chill of the hole, uncertain how far the drop went, but a boom outside left me no choice.

We needed to leave. Soon.

Cold air whipped at my face for a few heartbeats before I slammed into soaked, muddy earth. Decay soiled the air. The walls were covered in flowing water. Casper grunted; his hands clenched in fists. The water had divided and flowed upward across the curved tunnel and ceiling, like moving walls over the stone.

“Would be nice if we could hurry,” Casper said, his face flushed and red.

I nodded and followed a gleam of light in the distance. At the first gate blocking the canals from the streams that led into the forest, I took the bars in hand. My own fury was weakened from the cells. The bars gave a little, but not enough to fit someone of Casper’s size.

“Let me through,” Junie insisted. “I’m smallest and can pick the lock from the outside.”

“And who says you won’t abandon us?” Tor snapped.

“No one. I suppose you’ll need to trust that I keep my oaths.”

“Go,” I said through my teeth, fighting the ore to bend and break.

Junie turned sideways and slid through the opening I’d already shaped. She fumbled, and for a moment I thought she might run. If she had a family, a husband, why wouldn’t she?

But she turned back, studying the gate. “It’s a simple enough lock.” Using the tip of the knife, she manipulated the keyhole for what seemed an eternity. Casper kept drawing in sharp breaths. More water pooled around my knees.

“Junius,” I said.

“Shut it.” She bit the tip of her tongue, cursing the blade.

I tried to urge the bars more. They gave a little, but my arms trembled. Fury burned like it might break through my skin any moment.

“I can’t hold it,” Casper said.

Stieg gripped his arm. “Well, you must hold it!”

Water splashed to my waist, then my chest. At my shoulders, I tilted my chin, ready to hold my breath.

Then, the gate clicked.

Junius tossed the lock aside and ripped open the bars. We spilled into the streambed with the rushing current, grappling for the edge.

Stieg laughed and pounded Casper on his back a few times. “Well done, water nyk. Well done.”

Casper waved his hand, then flopped onto the bank to catch his breath, but Tor nudged his shoulder with his boot. “Get up. We can’t stay here.”

We had escaped a distance from the fighting but staying out in the open was foolish. For a moment I forgot others had joined us and pulled down the red mask.

“I almost expected fangs,” Stieg murmured to Casper.

I ignored them and took in our surroundings. “Stieg, you said our man was taken by serfs.”

“Yes.” Stieg came to my side. “But I doubt they were truly serfs. They had a powder that dissolved the damn hinges.”

“Why come for Halvar?” I asked Tor.

“Someone must’ve connected him to the Blood Wraith. We ought to expect a ransom.”

True, someone might’ve known Halvar was a member of the Guild of Shade. But the more likely scenario was someone knew he was Halvar Atra, first knight to the restored Valen Ferus.

More than a ransom would be paid. We’d be forced to do the bidding of the one responsible until we bartered for Halvar’s freedom or bought silence. The darker parts that called to me preferred to slaughter whoever had taken him and be done with it.

Maybe I would.

“Make to the trees,” I said after a pause. “We’ll decide our next move out of sight.”

Casper, Stieg, and Junius gathered their knives and ran after Tor toward the gates. The attack at least gave us a clear path. Every guard was at the front, shoving the invaders back.

Of course, we’d need to discover who attacked tonight. They might be the ones who took Halvar, and I needed to know who was responsible for stirring discontent amongst Ettans and Night Folk.

They would be one to watch, support, or kill if they interfered with my plans again.

“Legion!” Tor shouted, careful to hide my name. “Get down.”

Behind us, in the shadows of the back drive, a prison coach parked aside a back entrance. I dropped behind one of the berms of mud and straw dotting the yard.

Four ravens burst out the door; someone struggled between them. The driver of the coach hopped off the front and unshackled the backdoor.

“Ari! Ari!” a woman screamed. She kicked and thrashed and put up a fight.

“Kvinna! No!” Another voice shouted from the front gates.

My heart stuttered. No. No, it wasn’t . . .

The men who attacked pointed their shields at the coach. They were trying to reach her, trying to save her, but kept getting stopped by more ravens.

“Bring her to the king,” a guard said. “He’s missed her.”

“All gods,” I said under my breath.

“Valen.” Tor whispered and dropped to my side. “Valen, no, think about—”

I didn’t wait for him to finish. Elise was here and they were taking her to Ravenspire.

I drew my axes and sprinted for her as fast as my legs would go.