“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Erich asked him.
“We have no other choice. I need to be with you in the dungeon. I don’t know why. I just know I do,” Fritz said. His voice had taken on that eerie prophetic tone.
Everyone turned to look at him. His breaths were rising in clouds of vapor, as the temperature of the room seemed to drop. They all looked at one another, bound together by their desire to protect Liane. There was no turning back now. The only way out was forward.
26
A veiled figure beckoned to Aristea, its withered hand outstretched and a knobbed finger crooked.
“Come to me, Aristea,” it crooned. “Together we will achieve greatness.”
Though every instinct within her was telling her to run, she felt compelled forward, as if invisible hands were pushing her toward the veiled woman. She was standing before Aristea; the veiled woman’s blackened nails were long and rotted as if they belonged to a corpse.
“Without me, you’ll never be strong enough. Together, we can reshape the empire to make it greater than ever before.”
It showed Aristea crowned, carrying her mother’s Golden Blade, not the fake one, but the one from inside Liane’s back. She stood on the palace balcony; the masses were bowing before her, including the dukes. And at her side, in ermine robes, was Jonathan, her emperor consort. It was everything she’d ever dreamed about and more.
“Come to the depths. Free me, and I shall give it all to you.” The creature held out its hands as if to embrace her. Aristea was leaning forward, tipping toward it, when she was startled from her sleep.
In her waking haze, she thought Heinrich had returned home drunk and agitated. He’d often woken her in the middle of the night to rant at her about petty disputes that had nothing to do with her. It didn’t matter if it hadn’t been her fault; it was she who’d borne the brunt of his anger. Then she remembered, Heinrich was dead.
She sat up in bed, body still tensed, awaiting the verbal barrage, but it wasn’t Heinrich sitting at the edge of her bed, but her Mathias, looking scraggly and thin. His beard was much longer than when she’d last seen him, and there were smears of dirt on his face and hands.
“Mathias?” she asked, reaching out to touch his face and make sure he was real, and this wasn’t part of her strange dream.
She brushed a hand against his cheek and felt him smile.
“It’s really me.”
Relief and anxiety swept through her. He’d returned safely and without an army at his back. But she felt the weight of the unresolved tensions settle on her. She glanced around the room, expecting to see her lady’s maid sleeping on her cot nearby, but she was awake, and a strange woman had her hands over her mouth to prevent her from screaming. The woman had attempted to disguise her long elven ears, but Aristea could see the tips of them pointing out from her jet-black hair. And there was no hiding the angular shape of her face and the unnatural way she stood perfectly still.
Alarm bells were ringing in Aristea’s head.
The rumors were true; he was working with an elf. Her eyes darted to the sword at his hip, and she scooted back in the bed, away from him.
“Let Jana go,” Aristea said slowly. Eyes darting between her brother and the elf.
Jana’s eyes were wide and terrified as she trembled in the elf’s grip.
“She’s innocent,” Aristea said.
Mathias looked confused for a moment and then glanced over at the elven woman. “Sorry, I know this is a bit of an abrupt greeting. But we couldn’t have her alerting the guards, and I didn’t know how else to approach you, given the circumstances.” He shrugged. As if he hadn’t snuck into her room, past her guards, and wasn’t holding her maid hostage. Had he gone mad?
“Mathias, does she have you under her spell? Can I help you break free somehow?” she whispered, eyes darting toward the elf.
Mathias glanced back at her with a smile. “Katya? She won’t hurt you. She and I… Well, it’s a long story. Which is why I came to talk to you first. Actually, I went looking for Liane but found out she’s gone. Mother won’t hear reason, but she listens to you, so…”
What should she do—try to call for help? But if she did, they might slit Jana’s throat. She had to be careful. Think things through.
“What is it you needed to ask me?” she asked in her best older-sister tone, even while her heart was thumping wildly in her chest. And hoped it could reach him behind this spell that the elf had cast over him. Her brother wouldn’t betray her to the elves. It must be a spell, even if he didn’t realize it.
“I need you to help me convince Mother to partner with the elves. They’re not like we thought they were. And they’re not this source of corruption the church led us to believe.”
She pulled her blankets closer to her and tried to act as if this were a normal interaction between siblings. But her eyes kept darting toward the door, then to the elf, who was glaring at her, hand grasping tighter onto Jana. What if she pretended to drop something by accident? Would it be loud enough to alert the guards? No, that elf was watching her like a hawk; one wrong move and she’d follow through on the threat in her gaze.
“Even if that were true, they are still our enemies. They’ve been attacking the borders and killing our people,” she said.
“You’re the ones who committed genocide against us and forced us into the frigid north,” the elf snarled.
