The Lionheart (The Harbinger Book 4) Page 9

  And then Dracyrus’s pledge to her rang in her head: I will kneel. Faith felt a shiver sneak up on her, and she pushed it away. Now was not the time to daydream about Dracyrus. He might feel her subconscious reaching out to him.

  “Rest for as long as you want. I’m sure Hart has a lot of things planned to celebrate your arrival,” Foresh said.

  “My friends are coming for me,” she told him. “It’s not like I’m staying here forever.”

  “Of course not, but until you go, why not have a little Fae fun?”

  Fae fun was not what she wanted. Fae fun was the last thing Faith wanted, actually. She had men to get back to; she wasn’t looking for any hookups with random Fae. She said nothing as she went inside the room, closing herself off from anything else Foresh might’ve said next. Exhaling loudly, she turned to view the room.

  It was…quaint. Cute. No bigger than her room at home on earth, but cute. Maybe it was the magical blooming flowers that seemed to know she wanted to sleep, dimming as she moved toward the bed. Maybe it was the roots that rose from the ground and made crisscrossing patterns, enough for a feathered mattress to fit atop it. Or maybe it was just nice not to be traveling.

  Yeah, she’d done a hell of a lot of traveling lately. She was tired of it.

  Faith plopped herself on the bed, about to close her eyes. At least she was here. The whole forgetting all her memories thing was something she’d have to find out, but one thing at a time. With the glowing from the flowers dimmed, drowsiness took hold of her soon enough.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dracyrus remembered flying on Fang, one of the most beautiful creatures he’d ever seen, and then he remembered passing out, sliding right off the side of the beast, freefalling. The hazards of being connected to someone through magic.

  He would assume they caught his body, or at the very least Fang’s clawed feet did, for otherwise he would not have found himself in the middle of a strangely-decorated room. So much stuff he had no names for, objects he’d never before seen. Faith sat on a long cushion of sorts, her head leaning back and some small black thing in her hand. She lifted her arm, pointing it at the wall across from her, where a person—or, more accurately, their head—stood, talking about something that had happened earlier that day.

  Dracyrus was at such a loss for words he didn’t know what to say. Something small and warm rubbed against his leg, and he glanced down, finding a tiny, furry animal. Without thinking, he reached down and picked it up. Its eyes were large and round, and even though it had claws, it did not attack him. Its body began to purr.

  “Grumpy, what’s going on?” Faith spoke, turning her head and dropping the black object in her hand when she spotted him holding the creature. Her eyes narrowed, and she held a hand to her head, as if remembering. “This…this is a dream, isn’t it?”

  “I’m afraid so.” While holding the creature in one hand, he used his other to pet its head, which it seemed to like.

  “And you’re holding Grumpy,” Faith added, moving around the seat. “And he’s purring and letting you pet him. I know the freaky cat likes to lick my toes, but no way would he ever let you do that to him in real life.”

  “I have a way with most creatures,” Dracyrus spoke, his eyes slowly drawing to her, studying her. The way she stood, how she spoke of the cat as if she remembered him—she had her memory back. He thought about setting the creature, the cat, down, but a part of him liked feeling its tiny body purring against his arms. “You remember.”

  She nodded. “I do. My father helped me break whatever spell was over me.”

  “Your father?”

  “Yeah, apparently. I just met him. He’s…” Faith let out a long sigh, and even though she wasn’t currently happy, he was glad to have her back—although, he’d be remiss if he said he did not enjoy the game they’d played while she was bereft of her memories. “He’s a Fae.”

  The words sunk in, and for a moment Dracyrus said nothing. He could say nothing, because if her father was a Fae, it meant she was part Fae. He had a tumultuous history with their kind, and he never got along well with Fae women. But gazing down at her, watching her frown to herself, made his doubts and his concerns vanish into thin air.

  “I’m part Fae,” she added, as if he couldn’t figure it out himself.

  Dracyrus frowned to himself. He did not enjoy seeing her so conflicted, so he offered her the purring creature in his arms. “Would you like to hold him?” The creature, the cat, simply yawned as he offered it to Faith.

  Faith’s green eyes—bright and vivid and deep like a Fae’s—examined the creature. “Well, it is a dream, I guess, so it isn’t like he’s going to scratch me,” she said, gingerly taking him from Dracyrus. Almost immediately the creature put up a fight, using its claws and its wily body to leap from her arms and land gracefully on the floor. “Ow.”

  Dracyrus let out a laugh. “I like him.”

  The smile that grew on Faith’s lips was an infectious one, and he fought hard to try and remain unaffected, but he felt his body warm anyway. “You like my grandma’s cat,” Faith spoke, shaking her head. “I never would’ve pegged you for an animal lover, Dracyrus.”

  “There are many things I never would have thought,” he muttered, lifting an arm, moving it to her face. Her skin was soft under his fingertips; he was careful not to drag his nails too hard upon her flesh.

  This one…this one he did not want to hurt. Not anymore. Not unless she wanted him to, unless she asked for his nails. Some female Dracon did, but Dracon mating was incomparable to other races’ rituals. She was so small, too. Barely reached his lower chest with the top of her head. If he ever made her his, odds were she wouldn’t be able to walk after. Not for a while.

  Faith didn’t pull away. She turned her head towards his hand, leaning her face against it. “How far away are you?”

  “I’m not sure, but we’re making better time now. There are…a few things you should know, however.”

  Her tiny hand touched his, the one cupping her face, and she led him to the long cushion, sitting him down. It was…much more comfortable than he thought it would be. He rather liked it. “Tell me,” she said, still holding onto him.

  Oh, what he would give to be able to pull her close and take her here. It was difficult for him to hold back, knowing with every passing moment he came closer and closer to finding her. He’d meant what he’d said before. For her, he would kneel. He would do whatever she asked of him, regardless of whether his pride would allow it. Only for her.

  Perhaps he should begin with the most momentous thing. Truly, Dracyrus was no good at this…conversing thing. Talking to someone without threatening them was near impossible, but he was past threatening the one beside him. Far past that point now. “Two of your fellowship are missing.”

  Faith sucked in a breath. “Who? How?”

  “I’m not certain where they went or how they wandered off. If someone took them or if they went willingly. The other Human—”

  “Finn.”

  “—and the Ulen.”

  “Cam,” Faith whispered. “And you guys are too busy coming to get me to figure out where they went.” She closed her eyes, as if the thought was painful. When she opened them, her expression was resolute. “We have to find them. I won’t lose anyone else.”

  Dracyrus nodded along, for what else could he do? He could not tell her they weren’t worth finding. Any member of her nethelell was worth everything to her.

  “So you’re with Light and Jag? They didn’t try to kill you? You haven’t tried to kill them?”

  “No. We are working together to get to you. Without me, they would not know where you are.”

  She blinked, her eyes wide. “They know we’re connected?”

  Dracyrus spoke, “Yes, I told them. They did not want to believe me at first, but they do now.”

  “Finn was the only one who knew. I didn’t get a chance to tell anyone else. I thought…” She looked down, her hair falling into her face as
she wrinkled her nose, the side with the metal dot. “I don’t know what I thought. Nothing is turning out how I thought it would.” When she met his eyes, he knew what she meant.

  Him.

  Them.

  Together.

  No, nothing was turning out how he thought it would, either.

  “Are they upset? Are they mad at me?” A purely selfish question, but Dracyrus supposed everyone had the right to be selfish once in a while, Faith included.

  “No,” he told her. “They’re only focused on getting you back.” As he watched her let out a long, slow breath, he added, “But there is something else you should know. We encountered another Dracon. He claims to be the Prince of Furen, the firstborn son of the High Queen. He said his mother received a notice from a Court Elf. He was remarkably caught up in everything—I believe he’s been traveling for quite some time.”

  She chuckled. “Yeah, I get that. My legs are like rocks now.” As she found amusement in her own joke, she sighed to herself. Her thumb rubbed against his, her hand still holding onto him. He wasn’t about to pull away. He liked feeling her soft skin on his. “What am I going to do with you? What you said before—”

  “I meant it,” Dracyrus cut in, causing her green eyes to snap up to his face.

  Again, she said, “I don’t want you to kneel for me.” The hand holding onto his slowly traveled up his arm. “I don’t want you on your knees.” Her cheeks were pinker than they were before, as if her mind was elsewhere.

  Dracyrus leaned toward her, resisting the urge he had to touch her, to hold her, to pull her against him and smother her tiny body with his. “Where do you desire me then?” On his feet, on his back…there were many other options besides his knees. Options he should not be thinking of, not until things were hammered out between them and the rest of the nethelell.

  In the waterworld, before every awakening, every rise of his mortal body, Yulena had all but forced herself onto him. Each and every time; his punishment for not taking her during his first life. This time, her magic couldn’t force him. This time, he’d held onto his denial.

  He would not deny the Harbinger beside him, though. Not anymore.

  “A loaded question,” she whispered, a smile growing on her face.

  “When we reach you, you better have an answer prepared.” Though it was a bad idea, he kept leaning his body toward hers, stopping only when he had his arms around her back, when he could feel her warm breath against the scales on his neck. What he would give to hold her during the night, to have her beside him when he woke.

  Not once in his life had he ever believed himself to be a lovesick fool, but that’s precisely what this Human, this Fae, had made him. Dracyrus was too far gone to be ashamed, to feel any traces of annoyance. He was so far gone, he’d never find his way out of the maze that was Faith, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Faith pushed herself against him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He leaned back, resting his head on square, fluffy cushions. Pillows that had some kind of patterned design. She rested comfortably on his chest, weighing hardly anything compared to him. They stayed like that, in each other’s arms, until the dream faded around them and he was thrown back into his own mind.

  Dracyrus found himself in the back claws of Fang, his neck aching from the position and his legs dangling toward the ground. A far drop. “Are you going to land?” he shouted for Vyserous, for Light or Jag or whoever would answer him, but he received nothing in return.

  Oh, those bastards. When Fang landed next, he would make them pay for this torture and embarrassment. No one treated the Dread King like this and walked away unscathed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When Faith got up, still reeling from the dream, from Dracyrus, how right it had felt to be with him, their complicated past and their roles as the Harbinger and Dread King forgotten, she heard a knock on her door.

  As she moved through the room, the blossoms on the vines glistened and grew, becoming brighter until they were like natural light bulbs. She answered it, finding Swift grinning at her.

  “So,” he said, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair—hair that was only a few shades lighter than Light’s, “how’d you sleep? Ready for a tumble with me?”

  Faith laughed and shook her head, saying, “Sorry, but that will never happen, even if I am part Fae.” Her body did feel better, now that it had slept on an actual bed and not the rough, cold ground.

  “Eh, figured I’d try,” Swift shrugged out. “Hart requests your presence up top.”

  Up top? Faith wondered. “Okay, lead the way.” If she had to find her own way, she’d get a million different ways of lost.

  As it turned out, up top meant quite literally, up top. On top of the tree. Or, rather, where the branches of the tree created a platform of sorts, where the leaves spread out, allowing the sun’s beams to hit the area.

  Swift only dropped her off; he didn’t stay. Fine with Faith, because she had a select few words she wanted to say to her father. To Hart. Not all of them were nice.

  Hart himself stood at the edge of the platform, where the branch below gave way to empty air. He had his arms crossed, and it looked like he was busy thinking. The sun had started to set in the horizon, and the way the platform was facing, one could see it perfectly. “Come,” he said, not turning his head to look at her. “There’s much I need to show you.”

  She was unhurried in moving to his side. “How could you get Mom pregnant and then leave her?”

  His shoulders shook with laughter. “Heading right to the serious questions, I see,” Hart spoke. “Like mother, like daughter. To answer you, Faith, you have to know the whole story. Swift and Foresh took you to New Hope, did they not?”

  “They did, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” The dead village, all those frozen Fae, caught in stone, were not something Faith wanted to remember. If anything, they were things she would gladly forget.

  Hart waved a hand before them, and the scenery around them, the giant Eldertree, changed, morphing into New Hope, the center of town, where the stone Fae were most common. Even the sky above them changed and became hazy, a milky white to block out the sky.

  Did they portal? She didn’t feel any magic around her. Faith went to take a step, but stopped as her father held out a hand.

  “I would not move too much, lest you fall off the Eldertree,” he said, cueing her into the fact that this—the entire village around them—was nothing but an illusion. The Lionheart was a master of illusion.

  Faith stopped moving, not wanting to plummet to her death anytime soon.

  “Once upon a time, there was a world at war. This world was not the only world however, and the universe grew tired of the constant war. To end it, certain things had to happen. The Harbinger had to win, and he had to go back to his home, even though his heart was here. My price for helping him return home to your grandmother was his daughter. Your mother.”

  The universe grew tired of it? The way he was talking, it sounded like he was sent from some higher power to end it. Which was insane—because Hart was a Fae. His ears and eyes were proof enough.

  “It was a price he gladly paid,” Hart said.

  “But why would he go back only to leave her?”

  “His lover was here. This world had become his home.”

  “Then why go back at all?”

  Hart gave her a smile. It was a chilling thing, as behind it, Fae stood and cowered, frozen in place, black and veiny stone statues. “I told him he had to go back if he wished to live with his love forever, had to create your mother if he wanted to survive here.”

  “But he’s dead,” Faith spoke slowly. “He died.”

  “The Ulen made quick work of him, certainly. Reed did not get exactly what he wanted, but his wants were none of my concern.”

  Faith gestured to the dead village around them. “And this? What does New Hope have to do with it?”

  “Do you know how much magic was require
d to open a portal between worlds? A lot. To ease the burden, to bring your mother here when we were a world apart, there needed to be a sacrifice. All magic has a cost. Sometimes that cost is great.” His green eyes fell on her the same moment a sick feeling crept up her stomach, making her nauseous.

  “This whole village was the cost of opening the portals between our worlds?” Faith wanted to throw up. Yes, it was good to be able to go to the Second whenever one wanted, paperwork and legal portals and gateways aside, but it wasn’t worth their lives. “How could you do that? Why?” She wanted to take a step backward, away from her father, for he was crueler and more terrible than she’d ever anticipated, but the threat of falling off the Eldertree kept her firmly in place.

  “Because of you, Faith,” Hart corrected her. “I had to bring your mother back here so she could get pregnant with you.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not worth all those lives—”

  “But you are. You are what this realm needs. Together, you and Dracyrus will stand against the evil plaguing this world and you will beat it. You will save everyone.”

  “I don’t know of any evil,” she muttered, angrily looking away from him. The more she stared at his face, surrounded by the frozen Fae—a sacrifice all for her, apparently—the more she hated him. Faith was better off not knowing who her father was. This man…he was a monster.

  Hart whispered, “Simply because you do not see it, does not mean the threat is not there. Do you know what will happen if the evil is unchecked? She has taken a new body, reborn in a way not dissimilar to Dracyrus. With her greed, she will twist and manipulate until she has everything she ever wanted.”

  He spread out his arms, and around them, Faith watched as New Hope faded, turning into the Springsweet of Alyna, then the plains of G’alen, then a craggy, mountainous place she’d never seen in person before: the lands of Furen. The Dracon’s home.