“No.”
“Ten.” That number hollowed my stomach, but only until she added, “Three come with me to carry water from the hot spring when yer bath needs filling.”
I suddenly had the strong urge to wash. So… seven old, brittle, frail corpses while Orlaigh brought water for my bath. Could I get through them?
Only one way to find out.
“Ye’re a bonny lass.” Orlaigh fussed with my hair a moment longer until she finally smacked her tongue as if pleased with what she saw. “Come, me Master has to wonder what’s taking so long.”
On brittle legs, I followed the woman along a corridor that seemed to twist in itself. Floor became ceiling, then wall… floor… wall again. How was this possible? A glance over my shoulder and the door to my room shifted, right along with my stomach.
Focus.
Mark the way!
Corpses lined the walls behind us, staring at me, but at least they no longer snapped. I counted exactly ten. Each time we turned corners, I slowed, scratching marks over those edges where the odd stone was graying and more porous.
When we passed a large bridge shrouded in darkness, my steps faltered to a halt. Pillars stood crooked, the stone strewn with holes and dark patches of mildew. It chased a feverish chill up my spine, rising the fine hairs at the nape of my neck.
“What’s this?”
“The Soltren Gate,” Orlaigh said. “If ye ever run, dinnae go that way. Nothing lies behind it but grief and madness.”
This entire kingdom was madness. “Which one is the Æfen Gate?”
After a subdued shake of her head, she jutted her chin toward where the bridge connected to a round platform. “To the left of his throne.”
A throne that sat at the center of a low, circular dais, the King slouched with one leg draped over the armrest, the alabaster shaped like a web of tangles. Along the outline of its back, faces tooled into something like driftwood—
My steps faltered.
No, not driftwood.
The heads of two corpses sat in the frame, one to each side, their bodies and limbs almost braided into the throne. I’d seen hundreds of corpses, but none like this, their skin almost like dried leather ready to be peeled off in layers.
Breathe.
Nothing new.
Nothing but corpses.
I continued toward the throne. Our footsteps echoed from the surrounding stone, the massive chamber void of life, even in the loosest of terms. Where was everyone? More servants? Builders? Heavens, a seamstress?
Orlaigh stopped a few feet away from the lowest dais. “I brought the lass, as requested.”
White shirt abandoned, dark breeches barely tied in the front, the King balanced a jug on his thigh and said nothing. First stubbles shadowed his face, powerful chest glistening with whatever dripped down his chin whenever he took a swallow.
What a mess this man was…
Orlaigh gripped my shoulder as if holding me back when the woman shifted her balance toward the bridge. “Bloody gomeral. Gone for a moment, and this is how I find the man? Drinking himself to a death he cannot die?”
Which would make him immortal. “Should I approach?”
“Nay, lass, back to yer chamber with ye. The Master’s spiteful when he’s sober, but he’s terrible with his mind poisoned by drink.”
I nodded, throat tying up as we backed away, eyes flitting about the chamber. Four bridges spanned a circle into black depths. Four corridors loomed between them. The bridge to the left of the throne was my way out of this nightmare. If I escaped the corpses somehow, I could follow the notches on the walls and—
“My little mortal.” Deep, predatory, the King’s voice cut through my next step, letting my foot stall mid-air. “Let’s see how long it’ll take you this time to kneel before your king.”
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Chapter 5
OceanofPDF.com
Ada
My pulse went wild.
“You may leave us, Orlaigh.” The King dismissed her with a swat before he gestured me closer. “Approach.”
My feet stumbled into motion…
…in the wrong direction.
They turned me around to face him, each step up the dais shrinking away the distance between us, no matter how hard I braced and fought. By Helfa, I wanted to be nowhere near him, yet I inched close. Closer. Closer yet.
An invisible force lifted my arm in time with the King’s. Fingers connected, and he rose to guide me to his throne. When he slumped back down, he wrapped his arm around my middle. One pull, and he bodily hoisted me against him.
Shifting onto his lap like a doxy, I sensed the hard line of his shaft pressing against my thighs and wiggled. “No!”
“Shh.” He brushed his lips over my earlobe where his breath tingled. “Remember, never evade my touch or refuse me your warmth, mortal.”
I breathed against the dread in my chest. “I beg of you, let me go home.”
“The Pale Court is your home now.” The King grabbed the jug on the floor beside him and took a swallow as a corpse limped toward the dais with a new one. “And you, little one, are here for my entertainment. Being immortal can be dreadfully boring without the company of a warm body.”
“Please, Your Grace, I have family—”
“Your Grace?” Another of his arrogant chuckles. “You can do better than that, can you not?”
My molars ground together for a moment, but pride would get me nowhere. “Master—”
“On second thought, Your Grace suits me, having been demoted to king.” He stroked his knuckles over my cheek as something unreadable came over his eyes, like the faintest flicker of concern. “Master is the one thing you shall never call me, Ada.”
“The women in my village need me.”
“If I release you, more of your dreadful kind will follow.” He sneered with such obvious disgust it made my nails dig into my palms. “They’ll bore me with their demands, their offerings, their… threats.”
Bore him?
Sudden fury surged through me. Fury and pain and a picture of John limping along the cobblestone with violets stuck to his unruly brown curls. Of the children turning in their graves. Of that sweet little boy who had pressed his damp head against my chest.
“When was the last time you left this place and saw what you’re doing to us?” I choked as much on my words as on the lump forming at the back of my throat, but this much I would say. “The night I came here, a woman in my village gave birth to a child during the full moon, not knowing if it was truly alive or if it would be a stillbirth the next morning. How cruel are you to let a mother cradle and hush a babe already dead? The ones we love wander without rest, and our grief lasts forever.”
“Hardly forever.” My skin tightened when his lips trailed along the side of my neck. “It lasts until—blessed with mortality—it dies away with the last beat of your heart.”
Cruel bastard. “Do you care nothing about our suffering?”
A pout on his lips. “No.”
“Eee-nosh…”
My heart clanked against my throat.
That voice…
Laced with misery, it drove a shiver up my spine. From there, it spread along my limbs, faster when something shifted in my periphery. My eyes snapped to one of the faces protruding from the stone, its gray lips parting so slowly, sending a wave of bile up my throat.
Helfa, no!
The corpse’s veiled gaze shifted to meet mine where he was embedded into the throne, hard features giving him away as a man, his voice as tortured as his body that snaked around the King’s back. “Enooosh.”
Enosh.
Not a grunt.
Not a wheeze.
A word.
“You’re a monster.” Disgusted by his brutality, I squirmed on his lap, trying to get away from this evil creature. “You had their souls bound like Orlaigh’s, didn’t you?”
