Page 74 of Sharpen Your Claws

He took the opening to say, “Let us leave and I will take care of them, as I have been doing until now.”

Laurent drank slowly, without a care. He couldn’t understand why. Laurent wanted the shadowed disciples gone as much as everyone else, if not more. Fearworn’s destruction by Nicholas’ hand brought power to the Darkmoon name, even trust. Mortals traveled to Faerie once more. Many would wind up like the attendants, broken and abused by bored fae, then killed once their masters saw no reason to keep them around. The cycle would repeat, and Laurent loved that cycle as much as the next fae.

Mortals were foolish enough to believe the fae that destroyed Fearworn would be more trustworthy. That’s what Laurent wanted, more deals to make, lives to ruin. So why have them sitting here? Why…

“This is a distraction,” Nicholas whispered. “You don’t want us to look into the disappearances.”

“If I didn’t want you investigating, I could have killed you upon your arrival.” Laurent popped a grape into his mouth.

“You would have tried and you would have pissed me off.”

Laurent chortled. “You are always angered. That is nothing new.”

“Then you should have no issue letting us leave to investigate, though I cannot understand why. Why the distraction?” He stood. The chair shrieked, and the room bore down on him.

“I do take issue with your departure. You did not seek my permission to bring these humans to my lands, and I am shocked by you, Arden.”

Arden had his gaping maw open to inhale a roll of meat.

Growling, Nicholas took William’s hand. “We weren’t on your lands. Even if we were, they do not need your permission. Any are welcome in Darkmoon, so long as they respect it. Come. We are leaving.”

William couldn’t stand. None could. The table warped. Roots wrapped around their ankles, up their legs, and the chairs shifted behind them. A strangled breath left William’s throat when the roots snaked around his torso, then slithered about his neck. The same happened to the others. Fire caught at Charmaine’s fingertips. The roots tightened around her wrists until she cursed and relinquished the flames. Nicholas tore at the roots, constricting William. The thorns pierced his flesh. The cent of copper filled his nostrils and fear rang through his heart.

“Release them,” he ordered, tearing faster, shredding the roots into splinters that pricked his hands, William’s hands. He imagined the room shattering around them, Laurent bloody and dead on the floor.

“Nicholas,” William warned. His words choked off from the grip around his neck. Seeing the constriction there, watching it grow tighter and hearing William’s breath stutter, forced his heart into his throat.

“I will release them if you assure me they will remain here or return to Terra,” Laurent replied. “I am Hill Castle’s lord, and as much as it is your home, it must obey me, and I want them here.” Laurent stood. His hand fell on Nicholas’ shoulder, applying no pressure, and yet, he flinched. “You and Evera have a duty to fulfill, so you will cease this nonsense or come to regret it.”

“You’re a bastard. You are cold and heartless,” William spat between clenched teeth. “But most of all, you fear your son and what he is capable of, so you try to control him, but he is stronger than you will ever be.” William turned his attention to Nicholas, speaking low and firm. “He has no control over you. He wants what you have, but this power is yours entirely and he knows, as we all do, that you are better than him in every way.”

The roots wrapped around William’s mouth. Nicholas spun on Laurent, his nails pointed at the bastard’s throat. But then he was yanked under into the stony soil that blackened his vision. He couldn’t breathe, clawing at a crushing darkness that made him into a terrified child begging to be set free.

William shouldn’t have spoken back to Laurent. Nicholas didn’t understand why he would. They were trapped in Hill Castle, captured by Laurent, who could kill them all without care. William had been right. He was cold and heartless and…

Nicholas tore through his lip, tasting blood. He understood he had more power than Laurent in the literal sense, but he had never felt stronger than his father. He shrank in Laurent’s presence, never once perceived himself as better, but William believed so. He believed that enough to risk all their lives, to say it to Nicholas’ face. If he didn’t get out of there, if he didn’t stop his father, all of them would die. He would lose William forever.

That fear had him reaching out. Desperation took hold. He tore through the soil, splitting it apart with a crash. Light shone above. He catapulted into the room, where the roots covered his companions entirely. He lunged at Laurent. Hill Castle shifted, the floor trying to swallow him. He wasn’t the child he once was. His power awakened in ways he couldn’t fathom, that made his mind hazy, but he knew enough; William believed him better, and he would be.

A haze of violet miasma seeped from his form, power taking physical form. It warped around him like armor and crawled across the floor. Laurent wasn’t shocked when Nicholas swung at him. His father fought elegantly, too. He moved like water, creating a path through the land, for nothing could withstand its current. Every swing of Nicholas’ fist, every burst of his power, was blocked or dodged, though he witnessed a single bead of sweat fall down Laurent’s cheek.

William would die before he defeated his father, so rather than going for Laurent, he dropped. His hands sank into the soil, willing it to obey. Much like The Lost Woods, the earth ignored his commands, battling against his will. Laurent had control of Darkmoon and it didn’t want to bow to another, but Nicholas forced it with a wild burst of energy.

William breached the soil first, heaving a great breath that sent him into a coughing fit. Charmaine, Henry, Arden, and Evera followed, the latter of whom didn’t hesitate to summon blinding light in her palm. Evera’s anger burst free in an arch of light, slashing out at Solomon, who dared to try to creep up on them. Nicholas had entirely forgotten about his brothers, so fixated on saving William from their father. Arden tackled Percival, the both of them cackling at the thought of bloodshed.

With a swipe of his hand, Laurent morphed Hill Castle into a maze. William disappeared behind walls of thorns. Evera fell with his brothers into shadow. Charmaine and Henry were gone, their shouts of surprise cut off. The ground rumbled beneath his feet as the walls grew taller, thinner, and the castle he called home became a place of horrors.

Fierce thorns scrambled to rip through his skin. Screaming faces pressed against the skin of the roots like souls reaching out for him. Laurent’s voice, cruel enough to cut, hissed through the halls, “Do you genuinely believe you can defeat me, Nicholas? What do you know of power?”

He dashed through the halls, focusing on Laurent’s voice. He couldn’t sense him anywhere. Hill Castle had become an entity of such force that all he felt was a thrum, like the beat of a great heart.

“You didn’t earn your power,” Laurent said, and the maze reacted, lashing out with unforgiving wrath.

Fire caught along the roots, summoned by his will. He internally apologized to Hill Castle, hoping that this wouldn’t end with the castle as nothing more than a broken mess.

“You’re nothing,” said Laurent, calmer now, so certain that Nicholas dared to believe him. “You’re another Fearworn doomed to craze and death. Nothing you do will ever change your fate.”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” His fear bled from him in waves that withered the walls. They rotted, oozing black across the floor, revealing halls upon halls that reconstructed themselves. Laurent buried him again, differently but still a burial, reminding him what his father was capable of and that he saw Nicholas as nothing. Worthless. Another pawn to control…

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