Thrallmagic: Chapter 30

Chapter 30: word count: 62, 272

I’m escorted back up to my rooms soon after. Lindon has gone eerily quiet, and no matter how many time I try to talk to him through our mind link, no reply comes. My stomach turns as I pace the floor, wondering what kinds of horrific tortures he’s being subjected to. Is this the universe’s revenge for what happened to Captain Wyrnson?

Serafine brings me a glass of wine, but I wave it away. Angry voices can be heard in a distant hallway, and I wonder how soon the council session will be called. Belatedly, I realise that this could very well end in war between Lysian and Valkyr. I bite my lip, guilt for not having thought of that before washing over me. Still, my thoughts stray back to Lindon. Why did he do it? What did he get from it?

No summons comes as night falls, and I send a messenger to inquire if anything has been found, or if a council meeting will be held. A few hours later, a reply comes; the council will not meet tonight, for fear of a fight erupting, but will convene tomorrow. I send a lady-in-waiting to fetch dinner, though I’m not sure I can eat. When she brings back a platter of fruit and meat, I dismiss my ladies for the night. Each of them bid me their condolences- for Lindon or for Cyan, I’m not sure, but I refrain from asking, simply nodding my thanks.

The guards, though, stay, and I know that asking them to leave will result in nothing except a brusque apology and an explanation that they had to stay. A sharp rap sounds at the door, and one of the guards gestures me back and goes to open the door. She only opens it an inch before nodding to whomever is outside and letting them in.

When Blathen walks through the door, I fight to keep my face from falling. For a minute, I debate whether or not I should stay in my sitting room, but the guards all seem to be staring at us, so I duck into my bedchamber. The same guard that opened the door follows us in, taking a post by the door and staring at the opposite wall. Briefly, I wonder who she is, but I turn my attention back to Blathen soon enough, not trusting him.

Thankfully, he makes no move to take my arm, or touch me in any way, and I edge away from him happily. I want to ask him what exactly is happening, since he and the queen have been co-conspirators as of late, but my voice catches in my throat every time I try to speak. On the fourth try, I finally succeed.

“What is to happen to Lindon? Will there be an execution?” My voice, thankfully, does not break or squeak.

Blathen shakes his head, a calculating expression frozen over his face. “Nothing has happened yet, or been decided.” He taps his fingers on the wall, and my skin crawls when he sits on my bed. Silently, I remind myself to throw those sheets on the fire when he is gone.

“So you’re saying that he’s not sitting in the deepest, darkest dungeons right now, covered in his own blood?” Even though I watched Lindon slit Cyan’s throat, I can’t help but defend my oldest friend.

Blathen, of course, dislikes that I’m defending Lindon. His eyes narrow, and flick to the guard, still standing at the door and carefully ignoring us. “Leave us,” he barks at her. My stomach drops at the thought of what might come next, and I try in vain to convince myself that I’m not afraid of Blathen.

The guard shakes her head, an apologetic expression on her face. “I’m sorry, your highnesses, but I am under orders not to allow the princess to be alone until further word comes from His Majesty.”

I look up at hearing my father’s title. “The king gave you your orders?” I fight to keep a smile off my face at my father’s good health.

The guard gives me a short nod. “Yes, your highness. Captain Wyrnson hasn’t been seen for a few days now, and the king is well enough to give me my orders until a replacement is found.”

I start to ask another question, but Blathen cuts in impatiently. “If your orders are not to allow the princess to be alone, you can leave. I’ll be with her, won’t I?”

She swallows, visibly nervous. “Yes, sir, but I’m afraid I simply cannot leave both of you alone.”

When Blathen curls his lip, and begins to say something else, I interrupt, “It’s fine, Blathen. We wouldn’t want her to get in trouble, would we?”

He turns on me with his cold, hard eyes. I offer him a smile- or rather, I bare my teeth- in the hopes that he’ll leave me alone. A minute ticks by, all of us still frozen in our places, before he lets out a breath and nods sharply. “Of course not. The balcony, Ria?”

I open my mouth to refuse, but his eyes narrow, and I nod quickly. He holds open the door, letting in chilly air that nips at my arms and my neck. Placing a cold hand on my back, he escorts me outside, shutting the door behind us. I stare enviously at his thick, velvet coat, wrapping my arms around myself to block out the harsh wind that wraps itself around us, taking away our breath.

“Why are we here? It’s freezing. If you have nothing to say to me, then I’d rather go to sleep.” I turn around, as if I’m going inside, all the while knowing that I won’t get a foot in the door.

Just as I expected, Blathen holds me back. “Not so fast, princess. Stay a while, enjoy the view.” His face twists in a cruel smile, and I turn back around slowly. “What a surprise, Prince Lindon killing that soldier. I didn’t think he had it in him, but then again- it wasn’t the first time, was it?”

I turn towards him sharply. “What do you mean by that? What exactly are you implying?”

A sadistic smirk spreads across his face. “Did you know, I really didn’t mean anything by it.” He turns away from me, almost laughing to himself, “You’re really very interesting, princess. Very interesting.”

Another strong gust of wind howls, pressing itself against us, and I shiver. “Just get to the point, Blathen. I have no time for this.”

He shrugs lightly, resting his hands on the delicate railing, so thin beneath his hands. “Our engagement ceremony is tomorrow, at daybreak. I would advise you not to traipse around to-night, sweetheart.” With a small smile at my frozen expression of shock, he quietly steps through the door. I hear him apologizing to the guard and bidding her goodnight, before the door closes, and everything falls silent again.

Only when a sharp breeze hits me in the face do I manage to uncurl my fingers from the rail and stumble inside, my feelings hidden.

“Leave me,” I snap to the guard, stalking into the bathing room and slamming the door behind me. Locking the door behind me and pushing the towel stand against it, I quietly step into the closet, taking care not to let the door slam shut.

I open the door that opens to my sitting room ever so slowly. The guards are still alert, and I shut the door again, drawing a small bottle of a grayish powder from a hidden compartment in my vanity. Going back to the door, I inch it open, pouring some of the powder into my hand, and taking care not to breathe any of it. I blow it into the air and funnel the wind so it is carried to the guards. After about a minute, their faces droop, and soon, they’re all strewn across the floor like toy soldiers, their faces relaxed and happy as they fall into a deep sleep.

Wrapping a fur around myself and tucking the poison into my belt, I step out into the sitting room, still trying not to breathe any of the air, lest the poison still be there. Picking my way between the guards, I step into the hallway and sigh in relief. As quickly as I can, I wind my way down to the dungeons, running down the spiral staircase as fast as my feet will allow me to. When I come to the dungeon grate, I repeat the same exercise, knocking out all of the guards and prisoners on the top level, knowing that Lindon will be further down.

The stench of rotting flesh, excrement, and mildew fills the air, and I gag, trying not to breathe through my nose. Closing my eyes, I steady myself, picking up my skirts so that the hem doesn’t seep up all of the dirt. I pick my way down the dungeon stairs, blinking as my eyes adjust to the heavy darkness that cloaks the misery that reigns in these halls.

As I approach the lowest of the levels, I take care not to make any noise. I peek through the grate, trying not to be seen by anyone. There seems to be only one jailor, a guard that is sitting with his back facing me. I pour the tiniest amount of the poison onto my palm and send it toward him in a fluid ribbon on the wind, directing it to wrap itself around him. He cries out in surprise, but soon, he, too is unconscious.

Sighing in relief, I push open the creaky grate, trying not to touch the parts that are covered in rust and ooze. It is even darker here than anywhere else, and I conjure a warm, crackling fireball that I send into the air. It bobs behind me as I look for Lindon’s cell, casting huge shadows on the surrounding walls.

When I finally find Lindon, I stifle a cry, taking deep breaths to keep myself calm. Lindon arms and ankles are in shackles, and he is chained to the wall. He hangs forward, hair in his face, blood caked onto his trousers. Thin, neat gashes decorate his bare chest and arms, and his bicep looks singed. I choke back a sob, and at the sound, he looks up. He blinks, squinting away from the light.

“Who’s there?” His voice is hoarse, and I wonder if it’s from screaming in pain.

I step closer to him, pressing myself against the bars of his cell so that he can see me. “It’s me. Ria.”

He looks at me, nodding slowly, trying to stand up. “You came,” he mutters. “I didn’t think you’d come.” When he comes to his feet, I notice the iron collar around his neck, and I cringe, picturing the burns that are underneath.

My heart goes out to him at this, and I blink tears away. “Of course I came.” I look away from his ruined body, not trusting myself not to cry if I look at him. “I thought they’d go easy on you. After all, there are many that rejoice at Lord Cyan’s death, simply because he was a vampire.”

He snorts, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “If any faery had done… this, I’m sure they would have gone easy on me.”

I frown at this, disliking the amount of control that my mother has given up. “What, then, you were their peace offering?”

He shrugs, then winces as his chains brush against one of his many wounds. “I didn’t do it, Ria.” His eyes flick up to meet my gaze, and he pleads with me silently. “I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill Cyan. I wasn’t anywhere near him when he died.”

My eyes widen. “You- you didn’t kill him?” My voice catches in my throat as I start to say that I saw him kill Cyan, but I force myself to think. “Didn’t they ask if you killed Cyan before torturing you? It’s not like you could lie about it!”

He sighs, his chains rattling as he pulls himself up and begins to pace. “Ria… they’re saying I can.”

I give him an incredulous look. “Fae can’t lie, Lindon. It doesn’t matter how powerful we are, it doesn’t matter how diluted the bloodline is- we can’t lie.” My voice rings in the enveloping hole of darkness.

He sags against the wall, his breath coming in gasps now. “I’m not fae, Ria. Not anymore.”

I look at him, sure that this is some sort of trick. “You can’t just stop being fae. It’s not exactly changeable, Lindon!” I don’t want to listen to his explanation- his terrible explanation that will deprive me of any hope I have.

Lindon licks his lips, swallowing before he begins to speak. “I ride with the Wild Hunt. And I don’t just ride with them, I lead them. I’m more huntsman than fae now. I still can’t lie, Ria- you have to believe me- but someday, maybe in fifty years, maybe in a hundred, I won’t be fae anymore.”

I close my eyes, wishing I could shut off my ears and leave, almost regretting visiting Lindon. “Whoever killed Lord Cyan looked exactly like you, Lin. I can’t take back what I said without making you look guiltier.”

He blinks, shoulders slumping in defeat. When he mumbles something to himself, I step closer to him. “What did you say?”

He glances up, towards me, before looking away and shaking his head. “I said, do you even believe me?

I think for a second, not quite knowing what I think, but I make my decision in an instant. “I believe you, Lin. And I’ll find who did it. Try- try not to admit to anything you didn’t do?”

He laughs a little- or tries to, before his shoulders hunch in pain. “I told you, Ria, I’m still fae enough that I can’t lie. Like you said, it doesn’t matter how thin the blood is. Even one drop will keep us from lying.”

I nod, feeling reassured. “I have to go. The guards will wake soon. I’ll try to come back- but- I don’t know if I can.”

Lindon nods, eyes fluttering closed already. “Go, Ria. And stay safe.”

I turn, picking up my skirts again and picking my way through the still-asleep guards. As I near the end, a few of them are stirring, but I disappear before they have a chance of comprehending anything. I step up the stairs as quietly as I can, clattering in the musty passageways.

When I re-enter the bathing room, Serafine is pounding at the bathroom door. Quickly, I rub at my eyes and at the tip of my nose, even going so far as to pinch my cheeks to make them red. Looking over my dress for any dirt or grime, I throw open the door, assuming a mournful expression and a sniffle.

“What do you want?” I snap at her, lip curled, face a mask of anger and exhaustion. At the very end, I sniffle again, for good measure.

Serafine blinks, and takes a step back, almost instantly averting her gaze. “Ah, nothing, my lady. Would you like me to draw you a hot bath?”

I stomp past her into my bedchamber. “That would be satisfactory. Call me when it’s ready.” I slam the door behind me and lock it before letting my mask fall away. I listen carefully for a second to see if she is hovering near the door, but when I hear her voice commanding my ladies-in-waiting to fetch water, I let my guard drop. A smile of victory and relief dances across my face for a second before the image of Lindon, shoulders slumped and cringing in pain, flashes through my mind. The smile falls away, and I slide to the ground, leaning against the door. It’s alright to rest for a moment before you go speak to your mother, and Blathen. Cringing to myself, I rest my head on my knees, wishing this would all go away.