Page 88 of A Kingdom of Lies

I didn’t need to wave the birds off, a single thought brought on the frozen chill of winter as I finally set loose my power. I watched the birds with a sense of pride as they flew back towards the looming outskirts of the final checkpoint. My eyes tracked their flight until my attention landed upon a wooden wall, spiked and towering, which came into focus ahead of me.

People stood upon the wooden barracks as I walked towards them. Hunters. I knew it for certain as the hawks landed upon outstretched arms. Those without a bird to greet them held up crossbows, sun catching the sharpened points of the bolts readied and loaded across them.

They were expecting me – that much was clear.

I could’ve stopped them, thrown forward the storm that twisted within my bones, my blood. There was no doubt in the power within me. Although still new to me, I trusted in the ability to become a force to be reckoned with.

Instead, I kept up pace, each footstep leaving a scar of ice across the dirt path, as I closed in on the checkpoint. I’d left my ability to think clearly at the camp, perhaps even further behind on my journey. Now was only action. Only anger and power.

Only madness, a whisper confirmed.

“Halt!” someone unseen shouted from the barracks. I didn’t care who. More Hunters raced out through the open gates, each wielding an unsheathed blade or a different weapon of choice, each one raised in honour of my arrival.

I lowered my hood, there was no point in hiding anymore.

Power crackled in the palm of my hands, the sound as melodic as a mother’s lullaby. It echoed the frantic beat of my heart, thundering faster as I grew closer to the Hunters.

“I demand the release of Duncan Rackley,” I called, voice filling the space before me. “Return what you took from me.”

Silence replied. Not a single one denied me, nor responded in confusion. It was unspoken what they had taken from me, and their hush told me my deepest worries were real.

A red-haired man stood forward from the line, hawk perched upon his broad shoulder and hands free of a weapon. His expression was placid and void of emotion, all beside the slight crease of skin around the sides of his eyes.

It was Kayne, Duncan’s friend and supposed ally.

“There is no need for the fanning feathers to prove your magic. Even with your power there is one of you and many of us. I recommend you listen, before someoneelsegets hurt.”

“Kayne,” I muttered, rejoicing as he winced, hating that I knew his name. “Where is he?”

“Paying penance for his sins,” he replied, teeth gritted in turmoil. “He was a fool to return and even more a fool for not destroying you when he had the chance.”

“And what sins are those you speak of?” I questioned, toying with the idea of conjuring powerful, ice-kissed winds to freeze each and every one of these twisted fuckers.

“I hardly imagine you would like me to repeat his crimes for all to hear.”

The laugh that tore out of me was ugly and sharp. The beastly hawk upon Kayne’s shoulder flared its wings, releasing a shrill cry through its snapping beak.

“Don’t mock me,” I called out. “I’m not leaving this place without Duncan, so let the choice be yours. You either return him to me willingly, or you will see what a king will do for those he cares for.”

“Your threats are wasted, fey. King or not, Duwar protects us. Before you raise your power against us you will find a bolt in your chest followed by a noose around the neck of the man you’ve bewitched. Tread carefully.”

I silently refused to lose another person. Duncan was mine, I’d claimed him. “Give. Him. To.Me.”

There was an emotion across Kayne’s face that I could almost place. He chewed subtly on his lower lip, eyes heavy as he studied me at our distance. My breath caught as he closed his eyes, his forehead creased in whatever silent torment overwhelmed him, and he turned away from me.

“Now,” I demanded, letting the frozen air amplify my voice.

“Bring Duncan out for the fey to see that our threats are not empty like his,” Kayne shouted, raising a fist in the air beside him. “If thefeywants to see what has become of those requiring repentance, then we shall show him.”

I followed the commotion behind Kayne, eyes scanning the line that shifted to make room for a huddle of three people to be clearly seen.Duncan. His name screamed throughout my very being. He was shirtless, the expanse of skin peppered in silver whispers of past scars was now mostly hidden behind the bleeding gashes that covered them, countless lines of dried and angry welts. His head hung, chin to his bare chest, dark curtains of hair hanging limp and greasy before him.

Duncan limped ahead, urged on by the sharp points of swords held at his back. If he faltered the tips would catch his skin and tear new cuts. I blinked, wishing to rub my eyes and rid myself of the scene before me.

“His fate will be far different from yours,” Kayne called, voice breaking slightly as he did everything in his power to not look at Duncan. “Duwar doesn’t look favourably upon sinners. They must pay for their immoralities with blood. Only when the poison leaves them will Duwar decide to bless them with renewed purpose. And as you now understand, Duncan has had many chances before.”

Numb and lost to the roaring in my mind, I took a step forward. Only one. The air screamed in warning, a screeching whistle as a bolt shot towards me. It missed on purpose, the dirt beside my foot ripped up in a cloud of dust as the projectile stabbed into the ground.

“The next one will not be as kind.”

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