“Deadly.” I uncapped the bottle and drank all the contents. I flopped back down against the bed, calling up a flash of memory of the six of us tangled up together only the other night.
No, you can’t think pleasant thoughts now. Only nightmares.
That was easy. All I had to do was draw on one of Daigh’s many tortures over the years or recall the torment of his forbidding Liah and I to play together.
I took myself back to the dream I’d had, the only dream I’d ever been able to extract from Daigh’s mind. The dream I shared with Maeve – of the world burning and the air poisoned and the members of the coven burned alive at the stake.
The dream that I’d give my life to prevent becoming reality.
Only this time, I recalled the true horror of the dream – the part I fought with each night to make sure Maeve never saw – the sixth person burned and broken on the stakes. The horror that above all else had propelled Daigh to make his stand against the human realm.
Maeve Moore’s body hung from the sixth pike, her head hanging limp, her beautiful skin blackened and peeled from her bones, her mouth open in a silent scream.
If the Gods were real, I’d build an effigy to them all if they would burn the vision from my mind. But I had to endure it. The horror of it was the only way I’d get the answers we needed.
I fell into the vision, toppling toward the stakes. The heat of the fires crackled against my skin. My chest open, ready to meet my fate…
My body slammed into something hard. I bounced once, the force driving the air from my lungs.
I forced my eyes open. At first, I could see nothing, and my heart thudded as I wondered if I’d somehow ended up in the wrong place. But then my eyes adjusted to the gloom and I found myself in a dark cavern – a little like the inside of a sidhe, only much larger and creepier. Long iron chains hung from the ceiling, extending down and outward like the ribbons on a maypole. At the end of each chain was shackled a human from the church and a fae.
A gasp escaped my throat to see them all trussed up like that. Not just Seelie and lowborn sprites. There was Hefeydd, the captain of the Seelie guard. There were four of Daigh’s princes – minor ones, but still – and one of his favourite Baen-sidhe concubines.
In the centre of the room sat a large cauldron bubbling over an open fire.
Daigh stood in the one entrance to the room, his hands clasped in front of him in silent prayer. Was it just the dim light, or did his face look drawn, almost…sad?
I crept around the outside of the circle. Hefeydd was tied to that old housekeeper, Dora, the one who incited the mob against Maeve. Deep cuts crisscrossed her cheeks and her whole body trembled.
“Merry met, my loyal fae,” he called out. “I apologise for the cramped nature of your quarters, but our gracious hosts could only spare one extraction chamber.”
This doesn’t sound good.I searched the faces for Liah, but could not see her anywhere.
“The iron burns,” a prince cried out. “Father, loosen our chains!”
“My king.” Hefeydd gave Dora a swift kick as he swung around to face Daigh. “Why have you shackled us here, and to these despicable humans, no less? Did we not bring you the required sacrifice?”
“My most humble apologies, my boy.” Daigh hung his head. His voice cracked a little. “We brought back twenty-two unbaptised souls from the church. However, that was not the price that was demanded of us. I’m told by our partners that the soul of a child – completely untainted by sin – has a certain exquisite taste that cannot be matched. Except for one – the blood of the fae. Etiquette decrees that we cannot go back on our word to our hosts, and so they have agreed upon this sacrifice as fitting to meet the terms of our deal.”
Great gleaming shitballs, he’s going to sacrifice them all.
Hefeydd’s eyes bugged out. “But you will need me during the final battle, when the Slaugh ride?—”
“None of us are needed, Hefeydd.” Liah stepped out from behind Daigh, her eyes burning bright as she surveyed the room, her mouth pursed, her expression unreadable. A million conflicting thoughts burned through me at the sight of her. “The battle we fight is greater than our lives, than even our King’s life. Sacrifices must be made.”
Daigh waved a hand, and the fire beneath the cauldron flared higher, leaping up the sides of the iron pot. The liquid inside bubbled over the sides and dribbled down until it met the leaping flames. Where the two met, shapes formed – limbs and tails and gnashing teeth and long whips that rained down showers of sparks as they cracked through the air. I dug my back against the wall as the fire demons lashed out, wrapping their whips around one of Dora’s friends, sinking their needle-teeth into her flesh, not stopping even when her screams became silent.
“Why is thatSeelienot burning with us?” Hefeydd cried as a demon crept along the chain toward him. “She had an arrow pointed right at the heart of your daughter! She is a traitor! Trusting her will be your ruin.”
Daigh smiled. He placed his hand on Liah’s shoulder, his fingers curled around her skin. My teeth ground together.
“Of course, she will betray me,” he said. “That is why I trust her. Because she and I have seen the same vision.”
Hefeydd opened his mouth to speak again, but all that came out was a scream as a demon tore off his arm, swallowing the severed limb as the skin burned away and the flesh beneath cooked.
I wanted to tear my eyes away from the torture, but horror froze me in place and held my eyelids open. Demons crawled over the structure, sliding down the chains to devour their victims – human and fae alike consumed in the fires of eternity.
When I finally managed to tear my gaze away, it fell on Daigh and Liah.
