Page 72 of Vow of the Undead
I shoved past Kayn. “Like Hel you will. I escaped you once and I will do it again. I don’t care if you think you can drag me to the altar by my hair, I’ll cut it off before I bind myself to you.”
King Drakkar stood slowly, enjoying the audience as he raked his fingers through his loose hair. It wasn’t tied back behind his head like it always was when he was inside the castle. Here he looked wilder, more intense. Less of the figurehead on the throne and more of the monster within.
But the cracks seeped through with the twitch of his mouth. The tension in his arms and shoulders.
He was on edge.
Was it because of Kayn? Or because I’d bested King Drakkar once already and he feared the trance I’d put him in?
“You will let me see my mother,” I said, focused now on the movement inside the temple’s open door. I could see her inside, laying on a bench, a blanket covering her thin frame.
There she was, my precious, amazing, sick mother. After ten years, I finally laid eyes on her again. Joy warmed every inch of my body, but in a single breath, it was replaced by prickly worry for her health. Still, she washere, right in front of me.
I suddenly felt like the little girl at her side again, staring up at her with wide eyes full of love and admiration. From the age I could recall memories, I had a well full of them of her enchanting witches with ways to conceal their magic, guiding them with portions of visions that told her where these witches could stay safe.
She was a hero, and I’d never loved anyone more.
And she was still alive.
Of course I knew this, or else my eyes would be nothing but inky blackness, but seeing her chest rise and fall with the breath of life was different. The buzz of hope was dangerously addictive, and it vibrated through my veins as I stared at her.
King Drakkar stepped to the side and beckoned with both arms. “After you, my queen.”
I gritted my teeth and marched to the Hall of the Gods, brushing past him with every muscle in my body tensed.
Once I was through the door, I ran and dropped to her side. Her hollow cheeks sunk inward. Pale thin hands with crooked fingers rested on top of the blanket at her chest. Her eyes were closed until I laid my palm over her icy wrist. They split open in narrow slits, her eyes rolling beneath the lids.
“Mother,” I breathed.
“Silver?” Her voice was like the sharpshingof an executioner sheathing his sword. Cutting, hollow, hopeless. But it was hers and I was hearing it for the first time in so long. Hot tears stung behind my eyes.
“What happened? How did you end up here? How can I help you?” The words tumbled out of me one after another. I didn’t feel the tears streaming down my face until they dripped on the stone floor and over my folded legs, slowly soaking my skirts with salty dampness.
“Silver,” King Drakkar said. I ignored him and tilted my ear to my mother’s pale lips. Her mouth moved slowly but she breathed the words out with enough force for me to understand the shape of them.
“Henbane,” she whispered.
The poisonous plant we’d cultivated so many years ago and then burned as a sacrifice had saved her once before—or rather, the Gods had as they accepted her offering and the risk of breathing the toxic smoke.
“Silver,” King Drakkar cut through our conversation again.
I shot him a look full of vitriol. Kayn kept his distance from the temple, staying back several paces.
“Silver—”
“Shut up!” I screamed. I shot to my feet and willed everything within me to send him into another trance. “Tell me what you need from me and then leave.”
The attempt at compulsion didn’t work. I was too distracted by my mother.
He only shifted his jaw. “Invite me inside, and I’ll carry her back with us.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“There are healers at the castle.”
“Like I believe you’ll treat us well after what I saw in your chambers. You’re disturbed, disgusting.”
“Monster or not, your words can still hurt me,” he said.
