Page 43 of The Ruins of the Heartless Fae

“You both should go to sleep. You look exhausted.” His smile was thin and weary. “I’m thinking we should stand guard two at a time, and maybe in two-hour intervals. I’ll take the first watch with Magni, and when it’s your turn, I’ll wake you both. Unless you want to guard with someone else—”

“That’s fine,” Kolfinna said, glancing at Eyfura, who bobbed her head in return. She would rather stand guard with Eyfura than any of the other Royal Guards or soldiers. “If Eyfura is okay with me, then I don’t mind.”

Mímir nodded. “Perfect.”

Kolfinna unfurled her pack and pulled out the thinning, scratchy blanket. She wrapped herself in a cocoon and curled into a ball on the floor, her eyelids suddenly heavy. She caught sight of Torsten, who was leaning against the wall covering his face, his shoulders quaking with silent sobs. Her chest tightened painfully at the lives lost. She needed to do better. She needed to be better. If she had any hopes of becoming a proper Royal Guard, she had to protect everyone.

Her eyes fluttered shut, but not before the flickering faces of the dead soldiers and Royal Guards flitted through her mind. She seared their faces into her memory. She couldn’t let any more die, because this place was dangerous, and maybe she was the only one who could protect them all.

11

Kolfinna wasstartled awake by a stifled scream. She jerked upright in her makeshift bed of blankets and noticed the other soldiers and Royal Guards do the same. They pushed their blankets off and looked ready to jump into action, hair mussed and drool still smeared on their faces. Kolfinna shifted her attention to the door, where a Royal Guard stood at the entrance, his legs bowed together at his knees. He craned his neck to look at them, his skin pale and his lips quivering as he pointed in the distance.

“I-It’s a monster,” he said under his breath.

Mímir ran to the threshold, squinting at where he was pointing, while everyone else lurched to their feet, bundling blankets under their arms and quickly stuffing them in their packs. Kolfinna jammed her blanket in her pack while jogging to where Mímir stood. She slung the pack over her shoulder and she peeked over the doorway.

By the large staircase at the end of the lobby was the same type of creature that had attacked her yesterday. The hairs on her arm stood up as she remembered it tackling her to the floor. The milky-eyed monster’s head kept shifting in different directions, a sword dragging behind it as it descended the stairs.Clank, clank. The rusted sword scratched the floor with each step.

“Let me take care of it.” Kolfinna turned to Mímir.

Mímir hesitated and studied her carefully. “If … if you think you can handle it, then go ahead.”

Kolfinna pushed forward, leaving the room. She didn’t think too much about the way he paused and what that meant—he didn’t trust her abilities. She probably wouldn’t trust her abilities either, with how she had handled the monster the first time it attacked her. But she drowned away all background noise, her intrusive thoughts, and poured her focus onto the creature. Mana pulsed beneath her fingers; she breathed deeply, feeling it circulate her body. She didn’t have to worry—she could use magic. She repeated it to herself as her mana vibrated beneath her flesh.

The creature’s head bobbed in her direction and it tilted its head. A ghastly smile curved its mouth. It was still three dozen feet away from her, but it ran toward her, its arms flailing behind it. The sword bumped against the floor with every stride. It was unnerving seeing its quick, uneven gait, but she kept reminding herself that she was strong enough to face it.

Before it could get close to her, she forced the stone floor to open up beneath its feet. The monster fell, and Kolfinna manipulated the stones in the floor to fall back in place and crush the monster. It screeched loudly, its white eyes shifting around the room. It could only move its head at that point. Kolfinna squeezed her fingers together, shoving the stones to squash the monster. It screamed louder, the bones and skin and flesh crunching beneath the weight of the stones. Finally, its head fell forward limply.

She expected to feel powerful, fulfilled, and happy at crushing it so easily. But instead, she remembered the ship incident and how powerless she was against those skeletal creatures. How so many soldiers and Royal Guards—who weretrainedto fight—had died mercilessly. She had seen what a fight like that would have looked like without her powers. What if it happened again?

“Good job,” Mímir said.

The corner of her mouth rose, but it quickly fell when she caught sight of everyone’s patchy appearance. Some wore slings, others had padded legs. They were all in bad condition, so this was nothing to be proud of. It was a normal takedown of a magic beast. She couldn’t celebrate until they found an artifact and got as far away from this place as possible.

“All right, everyone, I think it’s best we keep moving. I know we can sleep a bit more, but it’s already morning and I don’t know about you guys, but I’m ready to get this mission done with. Just one artifact.” Mímir raised his finger to solidify his point. “Just one good artifact and we’ve accomplished our mission and can head out.”

Mímir gestured to everyone to follow him as he led them toward the staircase. A few paused to examine the corpse of the monster Kolfinna had defeated, and a few cast her quick glances. Whether it was awe or uneasiness, she couldn’t tell. Or maybe it was a mixture of both. She was sure none of these people had ever witnessed fae magic, which wasn’t as simple as their magic.

They passed the statue of the monster with its mouth open, as if ready to eat them next. Kolfinna tried to keep away from it. Even though it was just a statue, it was unsettling to look at.

The staircase was partially covered in what probably once was a fancy, rich, velvety carpet, but was now so worn down it was discolored to brown and was missing chunks, revealing the marble stone underneath. As they went farther up the stairs, a swirling embossed design on the wall below the half-rotted wooden hand railing caught her attention. At first, it appeared to be a pretty design for beautification, but upon closer inspection, it depicted a tale. A woman with a crown sat upon a throne holding a chain attached to the necks of the people below her. An army of half-fish people was beneath her image, swords in their hands, seeming to oppose her. Kolfinna scanned the walls, but chunks of it were broken and crumbly. Was this a piece of Kolfinna’s history? What did it even mean? A queen and half-fish people? Was the queen supposed to be Queen Aesileif? The last fae queen, said to be the oppressor of all humans? Or was this supposed to represent another queen?

She wanted to stop and stare, to breathe in the knowledge of the past, but the party was already moving forward, so she couldn’t study it for too long.

Kolfinna tried to imagine what the castle was like all those centuries ago, before the descent of her people. Hundreds of fae filled the castle floor in her mind, a few scholars running with scrolls bunched together in their hands. Maybe families were walking inside, holding their children’s hands and telling them about fae abilities. Everyone would be laughing and freely talking amongst each other, proud of their shared powers.

But it was all a fantasy. This castle was in ruins. It was a reminder of what the humans did to the fae.

“Help,” a feminine voice called from behind her.

Kolfinna whipped around, only to almost run headlong into Blár and Truda, who halted in their steps and both narrowed their eyes in unison, as if looking for a fight. Kolfinna studied Truda for a split second. It couldn’t have been her, could it?

Truda’s brows pulled together angrily. “What?”

“Nothing.” Kolfinna continued climbing the steps, her heart rate picking up. She had no idea Blár was directly behind her. Was he trying to keep a closer eye on her? Or was she overthinking it? His words at the forest clearing sent chills down her spine. He wanted to toy with her and resume their “cat-and-mouse” game. Just because he had helped her during the ship ordeal didn’t mean they were magically buddy-buddy.

“Hey, you doing okay?” Eyfura popped up beside her. Her cheery disposition was a stark contrast to Truda’s—or, honestly, everyone else’s. “How’s your shoulder feeling? That was a really nasty cut.”

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