I push the dagger into his skin, drawing a drop of blood.
Niam hisses, shutting his eyes. "Fine. Very well. I will send you the provisions you require. Now let me go."
"Seems you forget your own rules, brother," I say, twisting the dagger against his flesh. "Nothing is final until one signs a contract." I gesture at Asher who stands with a cup of wine. "Draw him up a contract, won't you? And quickly."
The Prince of Pride nods, fumbling to find parchment and paper. Eventually, a servant brings him some and he writes up the details. Wood, stone and food for my people. Nothing for Niam—except his safe return home. And he promises no retaliation for this agreement. The final thorn.
He lays the parchment on the table. And I shove a pen into Niam's hand. "Sign."
He breathes deeply, biting his own lip. Then, slowly, as if resisting with every muscle, he shoves the pen's sharp edge into his arm, drawing blood. His signature is hurried, but binding. A swirl of magic seals the contract, and I see the compulsion of his commitment weighing on him even now. He will not rest until he has fulfilled his bargain.
"We have a deal," I say, grinning, letting the dagger fall to my side.
Niam reaches for his neck, checking the injury. "You will not like the outcome, I assure you."
I cock my head, taking his measure, and smile. "Why don't I believe you?"
He wipes away the blood on his neck with a cloth napkin from the table and straightens his clothing. "I wasn't going to tell you, not if we had struck a bargain, but Zeb and Ace wish Levi returned."
I shrug. "Then they should speak to the Fae. Metsi is the one who likely holds him."
"Yes. But the way they see it—the way we all see it--you are responsible. You attacked him. And in the midst of the chaos you created, he was captured."
I stand back up, and hop off the table, laughing at this madness. "The chaos I created? I was reclaiming my own realm."
"Even so, it is on your head whatever happens to Levi. So, on behalf of Ace and Zeb and myself, I must inform you, you have one month. One month to return our dear brother, the Prince of Envy. And if you do not, we will invade. With all our forces. We will not stop until you are in chains, and those you love dead in the mud."
He turns, walking to the door. "Next time we see each other, my brother, I will be the one with the dagger. And you the one who is forced into submission."
Chapter 6
I AM THE PRINCE OF WAR
Fenris Vane
"One goblet contained poisoned wine. And how my father answered my questions would determine which goblet he received."
—Fenris Vane
The ball continues. Though admittedly with less joy than before. Asher stands at my side, tugging at his clothes in distracted annoyance. "You ruined our chance for peace! What am I supposed to do now? How am I supposed to prepare for war when we have barely any men to repair the fortifications?"
I pat his shoulder. "You'll find a way."
Dean nods, standing to my other side and drinking a purple wine. "We do have a month. Should be enough time to find Arianna and Levi, maybe even defeat Metsi and end the war. Hell, I don't even know what you're worried about." I know his tone is meant to lighten the mood, but no one laughs.
I grab both of them by the shoulders. "How about you two discuss plans? I have other business to attend to."
Asher's jaw drops. "Other business? What kind of other—"
I'm not listening. Already, I'm walking away from them. There is only one person left I must speak with tonight.
I find Tavian at the bar, a tankard of ale to his lips. He looks paler than he did before, more fragile somehow. These last few days have taken a toll on him. A toll on us all.
I push the thoughts away. I cannot stand to have empathy right now. I take the seat beside him and glare into his eyes. "What would a traveler know of a Wraith?"
Tavian takes another sip of his drink. "You speak in riddles, your grace."
I tap my fingers on the wooden counter, my hand curled like a claw. "Then let me be clear. I just received an offer. Trade you for Arianna's location. Every part of my being wills me to accept. Every part but one. The part that whispers, what would Arianna do? I think she would give you a chance. See why this thing wants you. And then she would make her decision."
Tavian leans back, looking off into the distance. "You call it a thing. Not a man. Not a woman. A thing." He pauses. "I know what you speak of. A creature cloaked in shadow. Wreathed in smoke."
"What does it want with you?"
"Many years ago, my colleagues and I performed a ritual. We sought to tap into a power thought uncontrollable."
"The Darkness," I whisper.
Tavian nods. "It answered our summons. And in the process destroyed everything I love. But three of us it left untouched—well, not untouched, but alive at any rate. Me and two others. Now it… searches for me. Searches so it can end what it began."
There was something to what he said. A pause that makes me think he is holding back. "This Wraith," I say, "is there a way to fight it?"
"No. You can only run. Run as I have." He does not offer more, but I see the weariness in him. The weariness of a man whose life is not his own. In this too, we are alike. Slaves to an outside force.
All because of one moment. One mistake.
"Will you leave once she recovers?" I ask. I see it in his face, he knows of who I speak. The one person who seems to matter to him most.