“How merciful,” Dune said, hiding his confusion behind a polite mask. There had to be some underlying reason for General Slaugh keeping Gelsyne at his side rather than executing her or letting her rot in the dungeons. But what value could she bring, and how could she be trusted?
“What is your relationship with Adara Greenwood?” General Slaugh asked.
“Adara?” Dune was taken aback by the question. “She… we grew up together.” He glanced at Gelsyne, wondering just how much she knew, and what she’d told Slaugh, but her expression revealed nothing as she stared back at him.
Had Gelsyne’s eyes always been so black, so unfathomable? What exactly had happened to her since she’d been taken prisoner?
“Is that all?” General Slaugh raised an eyebrow. “I watched the two of you at the trials. There seemed to be some sort of rivalry between you.”
Dune pressed his lips together. “We were rivals, of a sort,” he admitted reluctantly. “At one point, we’d nearly become lovers. But I knew my father would never allow me to marry a fae with no magic, so I rejected her. You could say she took that personally.”
“Interesting.” General Slaugh tapped a finger on his chin. “Would you say you know her well, then?”
“Better than most… although I don’t think that’s saying much,” Dune said dryly. “None of us knew about her fire magic.” Ironic, that the one fae everyone in the village had deemed useless actually turned out to have a powerful magic that everyone in Ediria had assumed was extinct. There was no way Adara hadn’t known about it—he wondered if she’d secretly been plotting to kill the king this entire time, and that’s why she’d trained to become a warrior. He’d always sensed that she had secrets about her—that was one of the reasons he’d been drawn to her, despite his father’s insistence that she was trash and that he shouldn’t concern himself.
Perhaps his father knew about those secrets. Maybe that was why he’d wanted Dune to stay away from her.
“That may be so,” Gelsyne said. “But there’s a connection between you two, and always has been. That’s why you’ll be a good fit for this mission.”
Her lips curved into a smile that sent a shiver skating down Dune’s spine. “And what is this mission, exactly?”
“It’s a simple one,” Slaugh said. “We want you to kill Adara.”
Dune froze. “Kill her?” he echoed, not quite sure he’d heard right. “As in… end her life?”
“I believe that is what the word ‘kill’ means,” Slaugh said dryly. “Is that going to be a problem, cadet? Bringing a known murderer, a king slayer, to justice?”
“No, of course not,” Dune said quickly. His resolve hardened as he recalled how Adara had set fire to the field, badly injuring many of the cadets. She was clearly a threat, and if she was powerful enough to kill King Aolis, that meant she was a danger to everyone in Ediria.
… but that was the problem, wasn’t it?
“I’m very flattered that you’ve considered me for this mission,” Dune said carefully, “but while I consider myself a competent fighter and earth magic wielder, I am still a lesser fae. What hope do I have of killing Adara, when she killed the king of Ediria himself?”
That he had to say that aloud, had to admit Adara was more powerful than him, chagrined him. But Dune wasn’t a fool. He couldn’t rush headlong into this mission. He had to know if there was a way to succeed first.
“That’s an excellent point.” General Slaugh smiled, or at least the unburnt half of his face did. The left side of his twisted mouth pulled into what could only be referred to as a polite grimace. “Should you choose to accept this mission, we will grant you access to a rare magic, one traditionally wielded only by the king and his personal guard.”
“Really?” Excitement leapt in Dune’s chest, and his blood pumped faster. “What kind of magic is this?”
“Do you accept the mission?” Slaugh asked.
A warning bell went off in the back of Dune’s head, but he ignored it. This was the chance he’d been waiting for, to prove to his father that he was more than just a second son. That he would be granted special abilities, and given the chance to bring a king killer to justice, meant he could finally make a name forhimself.
“Yes,” he said decisively. “I do.”
“Excellent.” Gelsyne purred. She stepped closer to him, and Dune had to stop himself from taking a step back. He still couldn’t put his finger on what was different about her, and he wasn’t referring to her appearance. There was a darkness in her, a fathomless, yawning pit in her black eyes that made the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck prickle with warning.
But when he glanced at General Slaugh, questions in his eyes, the general merely dipped his head in approval.
So Dune forced himself to stand still as Gelsyne put her hands on his chest, forced himself not to shiver even though his skin crawled beneath her touch.
But he couldn’t hold in a gasp when she leaned up and pressed her icy cold mouth to his.
He tried to pull away, but his body went rigid as an invisible force rushed from her open mouth and into his. It felt like he was swallowing clouds of thick, viscid smoke, the noxious vapor permeating his lungs and spreading through his veins like poison. His body shook, trying to reject the toxic invasion as black liquid streamed from his pores.
But then a voice spoke in his head. A voice of born of the darkest dreams, raised from the depths of madness, the deepest depravities.
“Dune Terran,” it purred, wrapping around his thoughts the way a cat winds around its owners legs. “By accepting my power into your blood, you relinquish your ties to the kingdom of Ediria, and your birthright as a son of Domhain.
