Kol began to pace, and Nova looked at me nervously. “What is wrong with him?”
I shrugged. I had no more clue than she did.
“He was taken in the first attack,” Alaric spoke. “They held him for over a year. Tortured him apparently, he’s still recovering.”
“Gods,” Nova gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.
I watched Kol over my shoulder, then looked back to my sister and the prince. “We should help him.”
“What can we do?” Alaric said, staring at the dragon helplessly. His air of disinterest was gone. I could see he cared for the dragon like a friend but felt powerless.
“He’s spiraling. I don’t know what he’s been through, but I think he is reliving it. We need to ground him if we can, keep him in the present.”
“How?” Nova hissed.
“Come,” I said, standing and tipping my head in Kol’s direction.
The three of us approached him, intercepting him on his pacing route along the wall. The prince stood before him, attempting to make eye contact. Kol halted, but his head remained hung low. Alaric stood shorter than Kol and had to look up at him, but the dragon would not meet his gaze until finally the prince laid a hand on his chest and softly said his name. Kol slowly lifted his eyes to meet his, and they stood there locked in each other’s gaze for several beats before the prince spoke.
“Sit with us,” he said and sank to a seat on the floor with his back against the wall. It was the most normal and grounding thing I thought a prince capable of. The gesture surprised me. Slowly, Kol slid down the wall beside him, and Nova and I knelt before them, creating a shield from prying eyes. Such a mighty creature did not deserve the judgment of ordinary fae for showing his vulnerability.
From the distance, we heard a dragon’s roar, and the entire room shuddered in fear, no one more than Kol, who shook.
I put my hand on his knee, and Nova leant forward and clasped his hand. Together, we soothed him as best we could with soft strokes as Alaric began to speak.
“I remember when the enemy forces breached the city in the thick of the Battle of Amaya. We were just younglings, and they shoved us all in the cellars together with that weird, crusty old dragon for protection. Do you remember?” he said with a chuckle.
Kol didn’t face him, but he blinked, something dark clearing from his eyes, as if the prince had reached him, wherever he was lost. “He hated us,” Kol said distantly.
“He hated being stuck on babysitting duty,” Alaric agreed.
“We were hellions,” Kol smirked, finally looking at the three of us like he had rejoined the moment. “We took turns using the fire magic we’d been learning to heat the stones he was sitting on. He was furious but had to try not to show it because it would only have encouraged us. His arse must have been on fire.”
“He deserved it,” Alaric mused. “It was a brilliant idea you and Nyx concocted, because we were practicing our magic, how could he complain? I never understood how you and Nyx did that. It was like you were in each other’s heads. You just seemed to know each other’s moves.”
Kol smiled, summoning the same memory. Then his face fell. “This isn’t like that. These creatures and those who control them can’t be fought like a fae force. They are evil. They turn you into those soulless creatures or?—”
“Or?” Alaric urged.
“Or they make you wish they had,” Kol whispered, a tear rolling slowly down his cheek.
“They hurt you?” I asked, feeling guilty for wanting to know.
Kol shrugged. “I guess. The worst thing was that they were able to. They cut me off from my dragon, weakened me, and stole my magic away. I was unable to defend myself. Void of everything, the pain didn’t matter. It couldn’t hurt more than missing my essence.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. He was so broken. Nova sniffed beside me.
A crash sounded outside the doors, and pockets of fae gasped and cried out in fear. Those closest to the barricaded doors shuffled down to our end of the room.
“I can’t go back there,” Kol said, sounding panicked. He pushed to his feet, staring down the banquet hall to the door.
“No one is going anywhere,” Alaric said protectively. He stepped up beside Kol, who I now understood was his old friend.
“No,” Kol said to no one in particular and began walking towards the doors. Further bangs and shouts from outside could be heard as we made to follow Kol. To stop him from doing something stupid like trying to leave.
We needed him.
The doors shook, and guards yelled clipped instructions to one another out in the corridor. The threat was clearly closing in.
