What Lurks Between the Fates (Of Flesh & Bone, #3)(4)

Back and forth. Over and over. My joints groaned with every swing of the iron chain above my head. Rope had been wrapped and knotted around my wrists and was attached to the chain. It chafed my flesh where it restrained me, growing slick with the blood that leaked from the abrasions.

The male’s steps were casual as he approached the stairs at the front of the room, relaxed as I squirmed through the pain in my shoulders.

Two enormous stone columns stood to either side of the staircase the Fae male ascended. A snake entwined each of them, etched in perfect detail and looking eerily similar to the ones below me that waited for their next meal. At least two dozen Fae waited at the foot of the dais, staring up at me with devious grins on their faces. They murmured softly, their voices echoing and carrying around the room. I couldn’t isolate a single whisper or voice. They droned, buzzing like the bees in the gardens during summer.

Metal cages hung from the ceiling high above, filled with creatures. Human and Fae alike, they existed in various stages. Some still breathed, though the wounds upon their bodies implied they’d be better off dead.

A woman sat in the cage closest to me, what remained of her face pressed against the iron bars so that I could stare into the eyes of one of the first women to show me kindness in Nothrek. Half of her face was untouched, unblemished by the violence that had torn the other side to shreds. Her body lacked skin. One side was burnt, blackened by flame, while the other half had been peeled away in strips, hanging from the bars of her cage like ribbons.

Adelphia stared, blank and unseeing, at the wall of the throne room, her eyes clouded over in white. I squeezed my own closed, swallowing down the burn that tried to claw its way up my throat. The knowledge that her death had been so horrific clung to me, promising to taunt me in the dead of night. I would see those eyes for the rest of my life, the first injustice of what I suspected would be many to occur during my time in the Court of Shadows.

I forced my eyes open, following the path the male cut up the steps. At the top of the stairs was a stone dais, and Mab sat upon a throne crafted from skulls. Fallon stood beside the throne where Mab perched, wincing back from her so-called mother as Mab poked and prodded at her with a disgruntled look upon her face. My heart soared at the sight of seeing Fallon alive and unharmed—at least as far as I could tell.

Given the fate that had met Adelphia in the time I slept, I couldn’t begin to guess how long I’d been unconscious.

Or the things Mab could do to my friend during that time.

“What do you mean you haven’t got any magic? You’re my daughter,” Mab said, her voice ringing through the crowded throne room. I glanced at the select few Fae who had been chosen to stand with Mab on her dais, noting the way they watched Fallon with a mix of both trepidation and excitement.

None stepped forward to help Fallon when Mab reached out with thin hands, grasping Fallon by the chin and pressing a black nail into each of her cheeks.

“I’ve never used magic,” Fallon said, and it was only through the bond between us that I heard the whisper of her words. Only through my knowledge of her that I read them upon her lips. I would have known her voice anywhere, been able to separate it from a crowd of hundreds.

Blood welled beneath Mab’s thumb as her talon dug into Fallon’s flesh. I pulled on my bond with Caldris at the sight of it as I looked around the room for him, not allowing myself to feel the panic and worry over where he was and what might have been done to him. I would have known if he’d been taken from me. It would have splintered my soul in two. There was no sign of him in the groups waiting; no sign of the male who would have never chosen to be far from me—especially not when I suffered. The bond between us was silent, the threads associated with his magic frayed and faint.

I grasped one of the golden threads that radiated off a skull from Mab’s throne, twisting my numb, bloodless fingers around it and pulling it toward me. The edges were frayed and blackened, as if the thread itself was ready to fade into the shadows as it stretched out toward Mab herself, swaying to be closer to her.

The skull shifted, turning to face Mab. It drew her attention, and her face paled for just a moment before the thread fell out of my hold. I couldn’t hold on to it, and worry struck me in the gut for my mate. For what must have been done to him to weaken him so much that I couldn’t pull from his power at all.

I didn’t dare to touch my own magic, having the distinct feeling that it would only draw attention to myself that I didn’t want. I wanted Mab to release Fallon, wanted her to forget all about her fury over her daughter not possessing magic, but I didn’t want to turn that anger on myself.

Mab narrowed her eyes on Fallon, glancing cautiously back toward the skull that had changed positions and shaking her head before she finally turned to look at me. Her dark eyes collided with mine from across the cavernous throne room, making my heart skip in my chest. There was something so empty in her gaze. It lacked all humanity and emotion until only a thirst for power remained.

She stood from her throne as the Fae male reached the top of the stairs, using graceful hands to lift the skirts of her gown as she descended the first steps. Her pointed shoes touched the red carpet that ran up the center of the stairs, the train of her dress gliding out behind her smoothly as she moved.

The stone of the steps was gray, but the dark speckles upon it reflected centuries of torment. There was only so much one could do to wash away the relentless flow of blood that must have lain upon those steps through time. The crown atop her head gleamed with silver, the bright color jarring against the darkness of her hair. Shadows bled from it the same way they did with Caldris’s crown, but it was the shimmering black gem the size of my palm that drew my eye.