Page 98 of Beneath a Shattered Sky
No. That’s not possible. Elatha hasneverleft Fellgotha. Not once. If this is true… His armada must already be on the way.
Shit. Of all the times for me to fuck up…
The gates swing open as we draw close, and the jeering starts. I’d have to be stupid not to see the similarity to the way I leashed Rose and dragged her into a camp just like this one. If I’m dragged back to Fellgotha, I’ll be treated worse than she was, and unlike her, I have no defenders.
Unless I can find some miraculous way out of here, my death at Beltaine is assured. There is absolutely no way that the dullahan will believe I didn’t just run back to my father’s side of my own free will. He’ll probably convince Rose that I’m havingtea parties under the mountain rather than being tortured and eventually killed when Danu strips me of my immortality.
Is this what the Goddess wants? Parity between me and her daughter before my death?
Well, I have no plans to make it fucking easy for her.
They pelt me with rocks as I’m dragged through the camp—of course they do. If there’s one thing our people hate more than a fae, it’s a traitor. And we don’t have many of those, so they’re probably champing at the bit to claim their pound of flesh.
Without stopping, I’m forced to my feet, then made to stumble under the flap of the largest tent in the camp before my knees are kicked out from under me and I’m left to sprawl on the rugs in my own blood and filth.
There’s a sinister silence, the kind I’m all too familiar with, but which I’d hoped to never feel pressing against my skin again. Even the wind seems to still.
My father is here, and he’s pissed.
“Get those stupid fairy clothes off him.”
My gut plummets. If he does that, he’ll see?—
The fabric stings as it’s torn free. I know the instant he catches sight of the tattoo because the tension ratchets up another notch until his displeasure is licking at my skin like flames. I don’t dare look up. If I do, I’ll crack.
All of my bravado has fled, and in its place is the one emotion that’s always lurked beneath our every encounter, but that I’m only now admitting to myself exists. Fear.
He hasn’t been this mad since I killed Bres.
“Shall we leave him to rot with the fairy prince?” Someone suggests.
Another over-eager soldier butts in, “How about we bury him up to his neck, and leave him for those creepy fae maggots?”
Elatha is less than enthusiastic about the suggestions. “Get. Out.”
The dirt beneath me shudders with the speed at which his orders are obeyed. I take a deep breath. My father is strong, but I have a chance of overpowering him. If we’re alone, then?—
“Draard, help my son to bow. He appears to be having trouble remembering how to greet his king.”
Shit. Draard is here, which makes this two against one. I’m not sure I even count as one, given that my ribs are probably broken.
My cousin isn’t gentle, not that I expected him to be, and I grimace as he buries his fist in my gut, making me bend double as my lungs seize in protest. Then he uses my short hair to drag me up and force me to glare up at the man on the throne before me through watery eyes.
It’s not really a throne, but a heavy gilt armchair, looted from one of the fae strongholds. Fomorians will see the gold, leather and wood as extreme displays of wealth, but a fae might laugh if they saw him sitting on it.
Elatha has never crossed the Endless Sea, so he doesn’t know how many similar chairs are scattered about the land. I doubt he cares.
“Did you not appreciate the fine accommodations I left you in?” Elatha asks. “Answer me.”
Draard’s presence behind me moves closer until the heat of him is against my back.
He’s giving me a chance, I realise. If I had left to fetch Rose and regain my honour, he might’ve punished me and moved on. I wish I could say that, even if it wasn’t true. But I can’t lie to my father, he saw to that when I was a child. Swallowing, I meet his dead eyes and cough up blood.
“The cell wasn’t quite to my tastes.”
The fingers in my hair tighten.
“Insolent as ever. We’ll deal with that when the time comes.” Elatha stands, crossing the gap between us. “You chose to betray me, didn’t you? You chose them over your own people.”
