Evermine: Daughters of Askara, Book 2 (12 page)

Bitter laughter choked him. Now he understood his brother’s sacrifice. All those years Clayton loved Maddie, knew how she suffered, and let his heart abscess rather than save her.

Clayton had put his colony and its needs first. Harper prayed for strength to do the same.

Chapter Eleven

Light burned ahead, at the end of a long and twisting tunnel. I squinted, eyes weak for some reason. Laughter chimed and music drifted in a softer counterpoint to shuffling feet. A couple stumbled from the warm glow, swallowed by darkness, their limbs entwined.

Shock locked my gaze with a flush-cheeked courtesan. She smiled gamely at me as her skirts were rucked past her waist. A wide male palm slid up her thigh, wrapping her leg around his hip. Her shudder and sigh as I passed made my eyes water with embarrassment for us both.

“Finish this in your room.” Roland grabbed the male by the nape, peeling him from between the pouting female’s thighs. “You wouldn’t dare indulge in such a display if the queen were in attendance.” He shoved them down the hall. “Show some respect for the ladies present.” He turned a smile on me that made my stomach knot, surely in anticipation. “I regret you had to witness such vulgarity, my lady.” He leaned in close, and I pressed our mouths together.

“You shouldn’t apologize.” My tension ebbed under his stare. “It was hardly your fault.”

“You are most forgiving.” His smile turned apologetic. “I’d have avoided the court had I realized the queen’s absence meant inhibitions and good sense would be lost so quickly.”

I patted his arm. “I’m excited for the dancing.” I misstepped as we entered the ballroom flushed with silk-swathed bodies. My feet dragged as we passed a set of four thrones rising from a dais against the nearest wall. The base of the carved stairs made me shiver. Crimson seeped across the marble, vanishing in a blink. My skin crawled to escape the room. “It’s the strangest thing.” I offered him a weak smile. “I feel as if I should know, but I can’t recall the steps.”

“I’ll lead, lovely.” He stroked my face. I leaned into his touch only to have him withdraw.

Wobbling off balance, I righted myself. Another male had grabbed Roland by the arm. “I have a message for you.” He dismissed me as nothing of importance, which stung my pride.

“I’m busy, Garrett.” Roland shrugged from the other male’s grasp. “Another time.”

“Now.” His insistence was punctuated with a harsh whisper I missed in Roland’s ear.

“Very well.” Roland escorted me through the crowd. Colors swirled and twisted as dancers spun. A gentle tug on my fingers led me into the darkened hall. I gasped as he guided me through a spin that ended when his palm pinned me against the wall. “Now, you were saying?”

Garrett jerked his head in my direction. “Is she safe?”

Roland leaned in, nuzzling my cheek. “What do you say, Emmaline? Can I trust you?”

“Yes.” I gasped as his fingers splayed across my throat and exerted faint pressure.

“I never doubted it.” He raised his voice at Garrett. “Continue.”

“It’s all in there.” He offered Roland a folded piece of parchment, which Roland tucked away. Garrett’s voice rose to a nervous pitch. “You’re not going to read it?”

“You obviously know what it says. Tell me. Save us both some time.”

“Thurmond has concerns about the shipment.” Garrett followed Roland’s fingers with interest as they drifted toward my breasts. “He…ah…wishes you to contact him immediately.”

“Tell him it can wait.” Roland’s thigh pressed between my legs. “I have plans tonight.”

“Four of the Nisean mares have fallen ill.” Garrett tore his gaze away. “Perhaps more now.”

Roland’s hand dropped. “Four mares?” His eyes hardened. “All ill?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Shortly after they were administered their regular dosage—”

“
Regular dosage
?” he snarled. “The Feriana product is almost pure progesaline.” He punched the wall at my ear, knuckles cracking. “He’s damned fortunate he didn’t kill the brood.”

Garrett whispered, “The mares weren’t the only ones sickened.”

“For the love of all things holy.” Color leeched from Roland’s cheeks. “If he kills her, the whole of Askara will descend upon us. They’ve lost one queen, a second is treason.”

“Females in the previous trials fared well. Their births were natural and their children healthy.” Garrett lowered his voice. “We had no cause to think her reaction would be different—”

“
Think
? You didn’t
think
. Rideal returns soon.” Roland cursed. “Time is running out.”

“Thurmond requests instruction.” Garrett ducked his head. “I’m to wait for your letter.”

“Of all the nights…” Roland’s voice trailed off into silence. Turning toward me, he blinked as if he had forgotten I cowered behind him. “Forgive me, lovely. I’m afraid I must handle this matter immediately.” He indicated the ballroom. “Would you like to stay and explore?”

I pushed from the wall with clammy hands. “I’d rather wait in my room if I may.”

“Nonsense. You should enjoy the opportunity while you can.” He grinned at Garrett, then back at me. “Another opportunity may not present itself in the time you have left.”

Unease quivered through me. “Have you grown tired of me already?” Would Roland send me home once the First Court lights faded to black? Never mind my home’s location eluded me.

“You are an enchantment.” He tipped my head back. “How could I ever tire of you?” His lips molded to mine with a deep sigh. The way he breathed me in made my knees weaken. “I believe I’ll keep you here, with me, all the days of your life.”

“That’s a lengthy commitment, my lord,” I teased him, breathless at the implication.

“Its duration is well within my tolerance.” He leaned in. “On second thought…I believe I will return you to your room. I’d rather you save your energy for other things.”

Crippled memory fragments of a bed that wasn’t my own, him crushing me into submission, flared panic in my chest.
No, no, no. Not with him.
He’s not…
The thought fled me.

I shoved him back, and my jaw slacked as he bounced off the opposite wall. His skull cracked on stone, and his focus lost me for several seconds. Adrenaline drenched me in sweat.

“Where am I?” I gawked at my surroundings. Rihos? I’d never come here, unless…

“You’re at the summer castle.” Roland’s scowl melted into sweet concern. “You came to spend an evening with me. I sent you an invitation, remember?”

I did remember a letter. I’d read it and passed it to… My eyes widened. “Harper.”

Roland nodded to Garrett. “Cover yourself.” He pulled a vial from his pocket with a flourish. “It’s not time for you to wake up just yet.” He dumped the contents into his hand and blew warm air across his open palm. Glittering sparkles took flight, winging their way toward me.

Reflexes slow and mind dull, I couldn’t react. I just stood there and let his magic take me.

Fetid air fanned the base of Harper’s neck. He twisted as something jabbed his shoulder through the cell bars. A black mass draped in shadows loomed over his head. “It’s true then?”

Harper scrambled to his feet, half convinced he imagined the thing spoke. “Is what true?”

Torches lit this damp section of dungeon and illuminated the creature’s face. His gnarled limbs twisted like the branches of a long-dead tree. His spine crooked and shoulders hunched.

“There is a colony? Yes?” His voice crackled with age. “And you? You are its leader?”

“There is.” Harper took a moment before he answered. “And I am.”

Black skin quivered. “I am Aldrich.” His head bobbed. “I am of the Rand coven.”

Confusion knitted Harper’s brows together. “A spell crafter?”

“I am.” Vertebrae popped with his eager nods. “Yes.”

“I’m Harper Delaney, formerly of Rihos, now leader of the freemen colony in Feriana.” He waited to see if Aldrich elaborated, but his fevered gaze bored a vacant hole through thin air.

Still staring into the distance, he asked, “Does Queen Nesvia know you’ve been brought here?” Strange longing filled his voice when he glanced Harper’s way. “Will she come for you?”

“Come to accuse me, you mean? No, she bears me no ill will.” He shook his head. “I doubt the queen knows I’m here, or that I was invited. My arrest was orchestrated by Roland.”

“
Roland
.” Aldrich bared sharp teeth in the direction of the door. “I must go.”

“Is he coming?” Harper’s gaze sliced through the gloom, but he saw nothing.

“There is work to be done.” Aldrich glided past, leaving a dripping trail in his wake. Bending down, Harper swiped his fingers through a dark splotch. “Are you hurt? You’re bleeding.”

Steel gleamed as Aldrich presented a knife and his forearm. “Magic is in the blood.” He sank the blade deep beneath the skin, and more blood welled. Dropping to his knees, he smeared a set of carved runes with his offering. His murmured spell crafting filled the air, raising gooseflesh on Harper’s arms and stirring the whispering voice he’d heard earlier to a crescendo.

A hiss of sound slithered through Harper and coiled around his throat.

He imagined the flicker of a serpentine tongue in his ear.
Sssong isss ssseeking
.

Harper choked out the words, “What is that?” A second later, the tightness vanished.

Aldrich acted as if he hadn’t heard. Perhaps he hadn’t, as focused as he was on his work.

Harper grabbed a bar to haul himself to his feet and jerked his hand back, swearing. The metal glowed white hot. Shimmering, it faded for a moment, causing him to rub a hand over his eyes. He touched the metal a second time, and its malleable length melted in his hand for an instant before it hardened and cooled to its previous density. “That’s a clever trick.”

Aldrich continued to squeeze his arm and chant his mantra over the carving.

“How did you do that?” And what power he must have to manipulate iron as if it were taffy. Such a powerful talent deserved better than a crowded dungeon and a stinking pallet.

Finally, he glanced up. “I can’t tell.” His spiked teeth glinted. “Trade secret.”

A low groan made Harper turn. Dillon twisted on the cot, deep in a fever-induced sleep.

“Your friend won’t last much longer.” Aldrich pointed a finger. “His leg won’t, either.”

“I know.” Harper frowned. “I don’t have many choices, and none of them are good.”

“You would do what you said?” Aldrich didn’t bother cleaning or binding his arm, just let air hit the wound and clot. “Your female is here? You would surrender her for your colony?”

His eyes shut. “She’s not—” In his heart, Emma was his mate. “Yes, I would.”

Finished with his crafting, Aldrich drifted closer. “Why?”

“It’s my duty to put my colonists’ needs above mine.” He recited the words by rote, surprised they rang true. Father would be proud. “One life isn’t worth the exchange of so many.”

Liar.
He gripped the bars. Rust flaked off, embedding in his palms. She was worth everything to him, but his hands were tied. Three lives exchanged for hundreds
was
worth it.

“You are the queenmaker.” Knowledge flickered in Aldrich’s eyes.

“Not exactly.” Harper frowned at Aldrich’s interest.

“You killed Lord Archer.” He inched nearer. “I saw it.”

“You were there?” Harper searched his memory of that night but saw only Emma. How she approached the dais and slipped her robe to pool at her ankles. The disgusting interest reflected in the eyes of those First Court males desperate for their chance to initiate her into her life as the Princess Ascendant’s handmaiden. Her pitiful cries when the ancient priest set to work inking her owner’s name into her tender skin, the eager swipe of his tongue as he asked Eliya for permission to rupture Emma’s virgin barrier in front of the entire court. Then chaos had erupted.

He had erupted.

“Archer’s death meant his country withdrew military support from Askara. His death was the first domino to fall, and you pushed it.” Aldrich peered up at him. “Then another, and another, until Eliya lost her throne.”

Harper frowned. “What does it matter to you who I killed or what the results were?”

Aldrich dropped the hood of his cowl and recognition slammed into Harper.

His arm shot through the bars, his palm wrapping the male’s fragile neck with squeezing fingers. “You’re Eliya’s priest.” So much innocent blood was collected on this creature’s hands.

“I was. Yes.” He didn’t struggle. His eyelashes fluttered the harder Harper squeezed. He must enjoy the pain. “I am beholden to Queen Nesvia now. I would know how my queen fares in my absence.” When a low moan dangerously close to pleasure sounded, Harper released him.

“She closed her court. That’s all I know.”

“Has she fallen ill?” Aldrich croaked through his crushed throat. “You must tell me.”

Up close, Aldrich’s breed became apparent. His features were Sereian. His skin, which Harper had thought a match for his, was streaked with elaborate runes. As he stared, he realized it wasn’t white ink on black skin, but the opposite. He would bet they were tattooed craftings.

Aldrich had transformed himself into a living canvas for his own artwork.

“This conversation is finished.” Harper wiped his hand on his pants and turned.

Aldrich struck his arm through the bars, reaching. “Perhaps we can make a deal?”

Harper shuddered at the thought. “Not interested.”

“I’m offering you freedom.” Aldrich’s fingers curled in a beckoning gesture. “In exchange, I’m asking you for mine.”

Hope kindled in a rich burst of purpose, even as his conscience squirmed at his intentions. He faced the spell crafter, the remnants of a once-celebrated priest. “What do you have in mind?”

Chapter Twelve

Aldrich dropped to his knees and patted his robe’s pockets. “Give me your arm.” Harper did, repulsed by the frail strength in Aldrich’s fingers. “Swear to me.”

“You want my word.” Harper tugged, but Aldrich held tight. “You have it.”

“
Swear it,
” Aldrich hissed, slicing a fresh cut and letting it weep. “I want your oath you will remove me from this retched place.” He offered Harper the hilt of his crusted blade.