Malice (Malice Duology #1)(106)

I release an unsteady breath. When I first came to this tower, that’s precisely what I wanted. Vengeance as a balm for the hundred thousand tiny wounds Briar had inflicted. But the sweetness of that future is bland in comparison to what I have with Aurora.

Kal doesn’t understand. He’s too lost in bitterness.

“You will see,” he says. “Together we will—”

Before I lose my nerve, I lunge forward and slam the spindle into his side. Kal curses, jumping backward and flailing. His lips form the shape of my name.

And then he crumples.





CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT


For a long time, I sit and watch Kal sleep. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest and the flutter of his eyelids. Relief soothes my guilt with each small movement, proof that my curse didn’t kill him as I worried it might. This abysmal morning replays through my mind on an endless loop. I should have known better. Kal lost everyone in the war. And then my mother centuries later. I can’t blame him for desiring vengeance. But I won’t let him take Aurora’s throne to get it.

The sleeping curse I enacted on the spindle should last about as long as one of my elixirs, since it was crafted out of need and not desire. I’ll decide what to do with Kal when he wakes.

Throwing a tattered blanket over him, I go downstairs and wait for Laurel. It’s evening now. Thunder rumbles, rattling loose stones in the upper floors. The storm has made slow progress. I hope Laurel arrives before it hits. If it’s another blizzard, she could be locked inside for days—we can’t spare that kind of time.

    The skies are tinged navy, but quickly darkening to lead as I watch the clumps of trees hiding Briar’s main gates. With the shriek of each passing gull, I wish that I could spot Callow coming to find me. It’s a futile hope. My kestrel can’t fly. But pain throbs in my chest when I imagine her lying sprawled in some alley, her neck twisted and wings splayed out. I fear I will never outlive the guilt that plagues me for her fate.

Lightning forks in the distance, Briar lit up in a blaze of white. If everything goes well, this time tomorrow, the king will be asleep. Mariel will call in the Etherians and—

A frigid wind sweeps underneath me and I’m knocked to my stomach, chin slamming against stone. Blood bursts in my mouth. I choke on the taste of wet, bitter earth. That same invisible grip flips me over onto my back. My arms and legs strain, but they are caught, bound in shadows.

“What in Briar?” I struggle and squirm, but the darkness only clamps tighter.

A ripple of movement catches my attention.

“No.” It’s all I can say. All I can think, as I watch Kal descend the stairs. “I cursed you.”

The shadows bite into my wrists, the cold like a blade.

“You did.” He grins. “But you forgot the key element to your power, as you have done since the day you set foot in this tower: intent.”

Thunder rolls again, a sickening, haunting laugh.

“No, I—”

“You said it yourself—you did not want to hurt me. And so your little sleeping curse caused nothing more than a nap.”

    Dragon’s teeth. I wriggle harder against the bonds, but it’s useless.

“Really, Alyce. By now, I expect more from you. It seems I still have much to teach you.” With a grunt he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder. Pain spikes through my jaw and teeth with each of his jarring steps. “And I do not wish to be interrupted by a pesky Grace. Laurel, was it? Well. We shall deal with her later.”

Terror drums beneath my skin. Now I do hope there’s a blizzard on the way. Anything to keep Laurel from danger. We’ve reached my room. Kal drops me unceremoniously onto the floor in a corner.

“Kal, this is madness. We cannot take Briar by ourselves,” I reason, trying in vain to keep my voice steady. “Whatever was done to you, it’s not worth dying in some reckless act of vengeance.”

“What do you know of it?” He snarls. “Your life was a garden party compared to the last several centuries locked in this rotting cesspool. Do you know who put me here? Have you managed to puzzle it out? The same creatures who tormented you for years—Etherian filth.”

The admission snatches the breath from my lungs. Now that the enchantment is broken, Kal can speak of his captors. The smell when I reached the heart of Kal’s enchantment. Dewed grass and spring flowers. I knew I recognized it. It’s the same that lingered in my Lair after Endlewild threatened me. The same power that pulses in the Fae lord’s staff. Dragon’s teeth, I should have known. The scar on my torso aches. “But how? Etherians can only wield light magic. They couldn’t have bound you in shadow.”

    Kal laughs, low in his throat. “Oh yes, the Vila have a terrible reputation for lies and trickery, but the Etherians are just as wicked. They only mask it better beneath the perfume of blessings and charms.” He moves to the window and sets the spinning wheel turning, wood clacking on wood. “They managed to imprison me in this tower because they were caging a dangerous beast. A beast. You know something about that, I think.”

Thunder growls and I shudder. I do know.

“But I was not alone here,” Kal continues.

That doesn’t make any sense. I’ve never seen anyone else in the tower.

His hand goes to his neck, fishing out the medallion I discovered what feels like a lifetime ago. The raw skin of his chest has healed now that the bindings are severed. But why is the medallion intact? It should have shattered along with the enchantment.