Page 67 of Midnight Deception


Font Size:

“Desperate to finish dying.”

Killian’s low chuckle is accompanied by the whoosh of the dragon’s wings as the beast takes flight. “May that rotten bastard finally achieve his goal.”

A bell tower in the distance tolls eleven. One more hour before I can make Elinor mine. Time cannot pass quickly enough.

“I hate to interrupt this tender reunion,” says Maxine in her guise as Lord Tremaine. “But time is a-wasting and you owe me a boon, prince.”

Notprinceling. That irritating affectation is apparently not manly enough to suit her current disguise. Killian cocks an eyebrow.

“I suppose there is no harm in you knowing,” I grumble. “Come on. You remember my hidden passageway.”

My old friend falls into step beside me. It feels strange to walk side-by-side with him, when before he dogged my footsteps like a half-housebroken hound. We pass the empty trophy room. Killian scans the bare walls in silence. All his kills, gone.

“We had no business hunting the fae beasts,” he says quietly.

“Isn’t that what you were known for, Ironheart?” Maxine says, her voice a shockingly accurate imitation of Tremaine’s. She gives me a playful, knowing wink. She is toying with me. I’m too close to finally having my way to fail now. Everything is within my grasp. The throne. Power. A lasting legacy.

Love.

The word comes to mind, unbidden. An explosion of raw feelings, tender to the touch. Mentally, I prod them anyway, gauging the heft and shape of this new experience.

“You’re certain this won’t backfire,” I mutter at Maxine as she brushes past me.

“I’m certain I’ve held up my end of the bargain. Now it’s time for you to uphold yours, princeling.”

Killian glances down the stairs into my private dungeon and hesitates, standing there with an inscrutable expression. As if he’s remembering all the violence and pain he inflicted on my behalf.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, meaning it. “I asked you to do things that I wouldn’t dirty my own hands with. I treated you like an attack dog.”

“That’s what I was.” He shrugs. “Briar never flinched away from what I am. Now, let’s see what you wanted to show me.”

* * *

Ten minutes later,Maxine-as-Tremaine and Killian have both stared into the clouds and come away shaking their heads. Maxine spent a long time bent over the telescope peering into the formation.

“I swear it’s there. You can’t see it during the daytime. You have to wait for nightfall.”

“I don’t have time to wait,” snaps Maxine, and she stomps off down the circular stairway. I should go after her. The more people who know about my secret hiding place, the less likely it will stay a secret. Killian already knew it was here.

“You know the significance of your discovery, don’t you?” Kill says softly when we’re alone. Nothing but birds and a brisk breeze up here.

I spot a robin and glare at it, thinking it might be Maxine pulling one of her tricks. But to all appearances, it’s just a small bird with a bright-red breast. “Not really.”

“The fae gods won’t wait for us to strike. They’ll hit first. The prophecy says that when Briar’s curse is broken, the fae will return to the Five Realms, and Isanthia will fall. She may be the true Isanthian queen, but I don’t want a war. Nor does she care one whit about a crown.”

She never has. That much is true.

“Not even if it means your unworthy arse might warm the Isanthian throne?” I cannot fathom not wanting power. He gives me a cocky half-grin.

“Never said I wouldn’t take the opportunity if it presents itself.” His grin fades. “You’re a fool to believe you could conquer the most powerful nation on the continent.”

I did flirt with that idea, once, when I was drunk on the knowledge that Briar could control dragons. In retrospect, I’m glad we didn’t marry. Although it’s a bitter pill to swallow, she brought out the worst in me, whereas Elinor brings out the best.

“I regret ever saying that,” I tell Killian, meaning it. “For years, our spies have sent messages implying that the abundant magic found in that peninsula stems from dark origins, but no one has ever indicated what polluted well the Isanthians have been drinking from.”

I suspect Maxine holds the key to my questions, but she’s gone.

“Keep that”—Killian points to the sky—“to yourself. Understand? There are some secrets that are best kept that way. I like our life the way it is.” He folds his arms and jerks his head at the stairway. “You should get moving. You wouldn’t want to be late for your own wedding.”