“I’m sure.” She meets my gaze and holds it. “I was alone. I think I opened the door to the Darklands, Damien. I think I allowed his soul through.”
She tells me more, about making an offering to Thanesia and how the spirit’s message was cut off when a door of night slammed down. Chills run the length of my body at the thought, but it’s a compelling explanation. I glare at the castle, thoughts spinning. One person knows the truth, and I have a feeling he’s been lying to me all along.
If Father was murdered, my mother and sister must have also been murdered. That means Brahm lied about all their deaths. His character has always been questionable, but a murderer he is not, if only because he is prone to laziness. Slitting the neck of a powerful warrior like my father would take skill and planning. Never in his life has Brahm shown himself capable of either. And Karyl? She was the sweetest little sister a brother could ask for. Only a true monster could hurt her. Brahm may be spineless, but he’s not a monster.
My thoughts shift toward the castle, toward Nevina. What if she murdered my father? Brahm might not have been the brains behind the deed, but he is just enough of an opportunist to allow it to happen and lie about it.
“Did my father tell you who was responsible?” I growl. She draws back at my mounting anger. I don’t want to scare her, but I can barely contain my rage.
“No. I can’t hear them without Phantom. He communicated with gestures.”
Heat flows in my veins, and I pace, trying to hold myself together. Shadows bleed from my elbows and outer thighs. “This castle holds more secrets than memories these days. I will find out the truth.”
“There’s something else you should know first.” Eloise raises a hand. “I was only in the cemetery today because I was debriefing with the ladies of Stygarde after our Harvest Festival meeting was attended by Nevina’s father .”
“King Entrydal was here?” I hiss the name, my stomach turning at the idea of the dark elf king that once tortured my father being in the same room as Eloise.
“Nevina’s requiring every citizen who hasn’t sworn allegiance to her and paid their blood tax to do so before they can participate in the Harvest Festival. Entrydal is backing her up. Dark elves will be joining the festivities to help enforce the edict. Eudora won’t do it, of course. She’ll die first.”
That’s it. I can’t hear anymore. “I’ll find you…after,” I grit out, striding toward the castle.
“What are you going to do?” Eloise asks.
But I’m already shadow. And then I search out Brahm.
I find him in what used to be our father’s study, a room that is now entirely his and bears no resemblance to its former glory. Gone are the books that used to line the walls, replaced by elven tapestries depicting his bride. He sits at a desk of ashwood, reading through a small pile of papers.
I form in front of him and charge the desk. All my frustration with Eloise’s vision, with the state of the kingdom, with the nightmares about Valeska that plague me still, manifest in my bared fangs. I stop just short of grabbing him by the collar. I’m angry but I’m not stupid. Banias is there, stationed in the corner of the room. The master of the guard’s hand drifts to his sword. I should have suspected Brahm’s muscle wouldn’t stray from his side.
“Brother?” Brahm says, his tone contemptuous.
“We need to talk,” I say through my teeth.
“Then put your fangs away. Threatening the king is punishable by death.” His pale eyes flick to the master of the guard.
I concentrate on maintaining my polite form, and my fangs retract.
“Now what can I do for you?”
I want to know the truth about what happened to my father, but I need to get myself under control first. I decide to cloak my true purpose by addressing the festival first. “You need to speak to the queen. She’s passed an edict that no shade can participate in the Harvest Festival who hasn’t paid the tax or sworn fealty. It’s sacrilege to keep a shade from worshipping Thanesia as the goddess has prescribed.”
He groans and returns his eyes to his paperwork. “It’s time they fully committed to New Stygarde, Damien. She’s right to force the issue. This resistance has gone on long enough.”
“You can’t be serious. You would stop them from sacrificing to Thanesia? You would risk the wrath of the goddess to have the west under your thumb?”
Slowly, he raises his head, eyes narrowing on me. “I am the king. They will bow to me and offer their sacrifices, or they will die. Unless you plan to pay their debt, do not tell me how to run my kingdom.”
“What would it cost me to pay their debt?”
“A life for a life, brother.”
I shake my head. “I will not be enslaved again.”
“Then the edict stands. Oh, and for the record, I’m not concerned about the wrath of Thanesia,” he snorts. “We certainly didn’t benefit from her help during the war. I suspect her wrath will be equally ineffective.”
I wince at his irreverence. This is Brahm at his worst. This is the brother who prioritized drink over family and kingdom, only without the drink to blame. His gaze cuts cold.
“I need to ask you something about father’s death,” I say calmly, more calmly than I feel.
