Page 146 of Promise of Darkness
A troll stomps past, casting us a leering smile, and both Eris and I freeze. The club it wields is bound with heavy iron spikes, and its rank scent is strong enough to almost knock me over.
“I can’t see him,” Eris growls. She lifts her head and sniffs the air. “Though I can smell him.”
“Through that?” I nearly gag. “How can you smell anything after that great hairy unwashed armpit just strolled by?”
“With great difficulty,” she says. “He was here, and there was blood, but not enough of it to mean his throat was cut.” Eris hesitates, her gaze sliding toward Blaedwyn. “If she knows she’s captured the Prince of Evernight, then I doubt she’ll kill him. He’s too useful.”
“The Alliance would never trade them power or lands in exchange for him.”
“No. But….” There’s something she’s not telling me. “If they can turn him, then it’s possible he might… become their vassal. And Unseelie’s biggest weapon.”
“Thiago?” My voice rises a little in disbelief. “Working for the Unseelie queens?”
He’d never cast aside his kingdom, his people.
He’d never castmeaside, which is what he’d effectively be doing.
“The Darkness inside him is not from the light courts,” she whispers, and this time I see the desperation in her eyes. “He holds it at bay with great difficulty, but every day is a battle. If he were overwhelmed, then it’s possible it wouldn’t be Thiago left standing, but the creatures inside him. And they would very much like to destroy every last fae that lives in the south.”
I know virtually nothing about the things he calls the Darkness, but I can remember the snarl of their voices and their grasping hands. I can remember every single word they whispered in my ear.
“They’re powerful, Princess, and whilst they’re trapped inside him, the world is safe. But make no mistake. If even a single one of them gains control of his body, we may as well kiss our lives goodbye. He could walk through the gap in the mountains, walk right into Seelie, and destroy anything they sent his way.”
A shiver runs through me. “So she won’t kill him, she’ll seek to use him. Can he control his daemons? Or can she break him?”
Eris looks unhappy. “Both. Neither. I don’t know. I don’t want to find out.”
I stare around the gathering.
Perhaps Blaedwyn doesn’t yet know who she holds in her castle, but I’d much prefer she didn’t find out.
“We need to move. And fast,” I mutter. I glance toward poor Thalia, still swinging in her cage. “If I create a distraction, can you track Thiago down and free him?”
A hand locks on my arm as I take a step toward the dais. “What do you intend to do?”
My gaze falls upon Blaedwyn’s sword where it’s propped against her throne. “I’m going to steal that bitch’s sword.”
36
The best laid plans are the simplest.
I slip through the crowd, gaining a layout of the throne room. There are at least three exits, and the one I don’t want to take leads directly into the labyrinth.
Eris’s argument lingers in my ears. The Sword of Mourning is no simple sword. Its power is immense and tied directly to the Hallows and the ley lines. It alone is the key to opening the Erlking’s prison world, and only a creature with the power to control it can set hand to its hilt.
The cost of failure is phenomenal.
Wielding it once cost Blaedwyn her light-blessed soul.
And as far as Eris knows, I don’t have anywhere near the power to even touch it.
As far asIknow, I don’t have the power to touch it.
But I guess there’s only one way to discover if I truly am thisleanabh an dàn.
Slipping through the crowd, I dance and sway, staggering a little for good effect. The revelers are starting to succumb to the wagonloads of mead. The floors are slippery, and I’m nearly crushed by the crowd as I finally make my way to the side of the dais.
Draining the goblet I stole, I haul my arm back and hurl it at Thalia’s cage. “Dance, you wretched Seelie bitch!”
