1
ASTRA
My heartbeat is so loud I fear it will echo on the cave walls. I need to think—quickly. Think, think, think, and find a way out of here. And yet all my mind wants to do is pass out, too exhausted from all that insane overuse of magic.
For a second, I yield to pointless hope and tell myself that this is nothing but a nightmare, an illusion, but I close and open my eyes and yet my vision doesn’t change.
I’m still here. In this strange cave. Facing a fae—or creature—who was “killed” three hundred years ago.
The Witch King.
The only light in the cave comes from two large lightstones on either side of his strange throne, casting a glow behind his purplish-black hair.
Hundreds of ghouls surround me and Azur, their faces expressionless, empty, in those bodies made of mud. When I try to reach out to them with my thoughts, all I get is nothingness, or perhaps an impenetrable wall. It’s as if that moment in theforest, when the ghouls guided me, was an illusion, a figment of my imagination, except that I know it was real.
Something changed, and I’m sure it has to do with the awakening of the Witch King.
I don’t know how much I managed to convince him that I’m his dutiful relative, here to free him. Sooner or later, he’ll realize I’m not his ally, and I need to find a way to escape before that.
The question is how.
Beside me, Azur stands straight, chin high, his long, blond hair loose under his black hat. Apparently, he’s unaffected by the astounding magic he just performed to save the Crystal Castle. I don’t know how he hasn’t collapsed, how he’s even standing, how he had the strength to pull me with him and even carry me. I also helped transcend the Crystal Castle, after drinking a drop of Azur’s blood—but I passed out from magic fatigue. And we ended up here, in the Witch King’s prison.
Azur told me to trust him, sure, and he can’t lie, but then he also said that he’s the king of the Nether Court, whose family pledged loyalty to the Witch King. Not only that, he stated that his goal is to destroy the Crystal Court.
Marlak’s court. Technically, my court too.
Azur might have no interest in harming me, but I’m not sure I can truly count on him as an ally.
Would he help me defeat the Witch King? At least prevent him from escaping this cave? I don’t know.
Not that I have any plan of my own, having no idea how to defeat the Witch King, let alone escaping this place alive. I suppose that if I were to harm him, the hundreds of ghouls surrounding us would retaliate. I truly can’t reach them, and I think it’s because the Witch King’s thrall suppresses mine.
His dark, beady eyes settle on me.
“Are you going to stand there all night?”
I focus on my breathing to keep it steady while I make sure my shoulders and arms are relaxed, so that he doesn’t see me trembling.
As I’m figuring out how to answer his question, Azur says, “A bed would be preferable, Your Majesty.”
Is he nuts?
The Witch King smiles. “A bed, you say?” His tone is quite cheerful for someone who woke up from a forced three-hundred-year slumber. “And how would you like it? With feather pillows? Satin sheets? Perhaps you’d also like a bath, dinner?”
His smirk and glare are the only cues that he’s being sarcastic. A chill creeps up my spine.
Azur lowers his head. “Just a place to sleep, so that our magic is replenished. The enchantment binding Your Majesty to this cave requires strong power to be broken.”
I think—or at least hope—he’s trying to gain time for us so we can find a solution, a way to escape, at least.
The Witch King stares Azur up and down, a haughty expression on his face, then turns to me.
“I don’t need both of you. Whoever frees me first…” He gives me a broad smile and then faces Azur. “Gets to live.”
His threat feels like ice covering my skin. The jovial way he says it makes his words even more chilling.
Azur chuckles. “Doesn’t change the fact that feats of a certain caliber can’t be done under magic fatigue.”
