King of Merits: A Fae Romance (Black Blood Fae Book 3)

Riven – Two Years Later

“The princess comes,” says Meerade, the points of her talons biting into my right shoulder.

Torchlight flickers over the limestone walls of the druid’s cavern, and I lean closer to the scrying well. I say nothing as I bow my head and wait for the vision in the water to solidify.

Yes…

Yes, my owl is correct—Merri has come at last. Since our meeting in the in-between-land two years ago, she hasn’t once appeared in these sacred waters. I would know if she had because I come here every night to check, to be sure she’s truly gone. Because that is what I want—Merrin Fionbharr eradicated from my mind forever. Isn’t it?

So, why has she returned after all this time?

My knuckles bleaching white as I grip the well’s edge, I study the image with growing dread. Today, instead of a forest, she runs across a frozen lake, her wild red hair flying behind her. Her arms and feet are bare, and her wet, silver gown clings to her legs. She looks cold. Terrified. As though she’s fleeing for her life.

I’m not familiar with this dark, ominous place, where even the tree branches look sinister, bowing over the banks and creating webbed shadows on the surface of the lake. No. Correction. They’re fissures in the ice, not shadows.

“Don’t fall,” Meerade screeches. “Take care!”

“It’s all right,” I tell her. “These visions aren’t real, remember?”

The fissures crack open, spreading along the ice, and Merri stumbles…

“Riven?” says Lidwinia, who has used her nefarious sibling skills to creep up on me while I was distracted. She presses her cheek against my back, her fingers digging into my upper arms.

Not now. Don’t interrupt now.

I need to see what happens to the girl. I glance away from the scrying well. “What do you want, Lidwinia?”

“I apologize for disturbing you here. I know you dislike it, but you’ve left me no choice. You’ve been down here too long, and I have news. Also, your courtiers wish to see you.”

Before turning to face her, I check that the image in the water has dispersed, and praise the Oak it has. The last thing I need is for Lidwinia to see me mooning over Merrin Fionbharr.

“Sister.” I kiss her brow. “What news do you bring?”

“I’ve received a message from the Elemental king. He wishes to meet with you to discuss the prospect of our courts coming together for Samhain rituals this year, as was sometimes tradition even under Father’s rule.”

My jaw drops. Surely, Lidwinia is joking.

After the peculiar meeting at the pond with Princess Merrin and the red-haired Elemental courtier, a Land of Five envoy arrived at our court with a decree that was clear and uncompromising. If I dared show my face in their land again, I would be captured, murdered, have my kingdom invaded, and my people destroyed.

Unconcerned by the threat, I shrugged my shoulders at the time. With our court’s powers, a blend of technology and magic, we’re not so easy to defeat. And I possess no desire to spend my days bent over battle maps planning strategies that would lead to the death of thousands of fae—both Elementals and Merits. No desire at all.

“That’s absurd. You do realize Rafael thinks I tried to kill their pretentious Princess of Air?”

“Merrin? Isla tells me she’s as sweet as honey and one thousand times nicer. No doubt she would forgive you for any transgression.” She arches a dark brow at me. “I suppose they must have come to their senses and realized what happened that day was an accident.”

“Elementals acting sensibly? Now, that would be news worth celebrating.”

“Now, now. Retract your claws, Brother.” Grinning, she pats my cheek. “Once, you were quite fond of Queen Isla, so—”

“Yes, but she’s only married to an Elemental.”

“Well, regardless, it appears they wish to reconcile. In three days’ time, King Rafael wants you to meet his small hunting party in the forest at the northern base of Mount Cúig, near Terra River. The horned annlagh has risen for the first time in over a century and is in pursuit of a mate.”

“I thought that beast was fabled.”

“Unfortunately not. You will hunt the creature. If you manage to slay it before he or a member of his court does, then you’ll be forgiven your earlier trespass upon their land and—”

“But I did not trespass—”

“Shh, I know.” She smiles, her snake-like tongue flickering as her fingers stroke Meerade’s metal wing. “I remember well how it went. One moment you were fortifying boundaries along the city’s eastern walls, the next you were in a foreign forest by a pond. And there was Merrin.”

“Yes. There she was. Suddenly and for no good reason.” Merrin Airgetlám Fionbharr. Bane of my life. My one and only obsession. Perhaps that is reason enough.

“Anyway, if you kill the annlagh, we’ll be invited to celebrate Samhain at the Elemental Court again. Peace, Riven! It’s what you’ve always wanted. Plus, there is the fact that your aging spell has lifted. Have you ever considered the idea that the fae who caused this to happen might be an Elemental?”

“Never. I prefer not to think of it at all.” Or that I started aging again the very next day after I visited the in-between world—with Merrin Fionbharr.

I leave the podium and walk over the surface of the water, my trick making my sister grin. “This could be a trap.”

“Nonsense!” she says. “The message contained the authentic royal seals, magical and impossible to forge. I trust the Elemental king, and I trust his queen even more. But he’s requested that you go alone, which I admit does put you and our land in a vulnerable position. But it must be as he asks. How will you protect yourself?”

I flick my right hand, and a ball of light spins in the air. “My magic is at least equal, if not stronger than the fire king’s.”

The ball rotates between me and Lidwinia, growing in size until its brightness is blinding. I cast it against the limestone wall. It explodes, forming a diaphanous barrier around our bodies. I click my fingers, and arrows of violet stalactites shower down from the roof then bounce off my magic’s protective shell.

“I’m not worried about my safety, Lidwinia. Rafael’s brother, Prince Everend, is of more concern, constantly threatening war. He can’t let go of his grudge and refuses to believe I didn’t plan to hurt his daughter that day. I want peace between our kingdoms. Long term, stable peace. And I aim to achieve it. So, if Rafael’s message is real, it’s very good news indeed. In fact, I must chance that it is and make ready to leave tomorrow.”

“Good. And I’m pleased to tell you that Ever won’t be joining the hunting party.”

Because if he did, no doubt he’d try to rip my head off with a lightning bolt the moment he laid eyes on me and destroy any hope of accord between our kingdoms. “Either way, I will attend the meeting.”

“Excellent, Your Majesty.” Wearing a mischievous smile, she dips her hand in the well and splashes me. “I’ll send a message to the king of Talamh Cúig on your behalf. And if the Elementals hurt you in any way, I’ll grind every single one of them to dust.”

Ah, my slightly insane sister is truly a marvel to me—mostly level-headed and benevolent in nature—but if those she loves are under threat in any way, she transforms into a bloodthirsty creature.

I smile. “Tell Rafael to bring his biggest bow. He’ll need it if he wants to best me in the hunt for the annlagh.”

Three days hence, I’m on the northern side of Mount Cúig tracking a set of large hoof prints through the forest and wondering why the Land of Five king truly wishes to meet with me.

Certainly, it would be convenient for Rafael if I kill the horned annlagh without him needing to lift his bow, but does he truly wish to discuss resuming Samhain festivities of all things? I read his message. It was simple and to the point—exactly like the king of Talamh Cúig.

The designated meeting place near Terra River is too far from the Merit City for direct transfer, so Raghnall and I materialized in Ithalah Forest, and I traveled the rest of the way on horseback.

So, here I am, hunting the annlagh who in turn hunts for a mate, with Meerade scouting the skies ahead for trouble. Given there are no female annlaghs, when it surfaces from hibernation every hundred years or so, it must take by force any creature who has the misfortune to cross its path—dryads, pixies, even kelpies—but hopefully not fae kings. I give a brief snort at my once-in-a-decade joke.

Understandably, the beast is a great nuisance in the Land of Five, and the Seelie fae are eager to be rid of it, but so far today, I haven’t encountered a trace of them on this hillside, which is odd. But the Elementals are strange creatures, ruled by whim and whimsy. Perhaps they decided to attend a banquet instead. I wouldn’t put it past them.

Regardless, I stalk onward through the forest, my bow drawn, as I attempt to quash images of shiny red waves spread against a background of snow. Merri, the Princess of Talamh Cúig has somehow invaded my thoughts once again. Must I always be plagued by her?

In truth, whenever I close my eyes, I see her face. That day at the pond, I should have killed her then and there and put an end to this torture. I was gifted with the perfect chance, but I couldn’t do it.

I could not do it.

In the flesh, the Elemental brat was everything I prayed to Mab she wouldn’t be—and so much more. Why did the sight of those moonlight eyes turn me to stone? Immobilize me so I could barely speak, let alone draw my sword and turn that pond red as I’d always dreamed I would?

I must never succumb to the insidious spell the Elemental princess has woven through my bone and marrow. If I did, I would forever be at her mercy, just as the Black Blood curse foretells. My kingdom would be lost. My people defenseless. And the Elementals would have what my father always swore they wanted—full control and to reign supreme over both our lands.

Damn the curse and its secret words that repeat through my mind with every crunch of my boot over bracken and stone.

A halfling defies the Silver King,

From dark to light, her good heart brings.

Enemies unite. Two courts now one,

Should merry win, the curse is done.

This will never come to pass. I won’t let it. It’s one thing for my courtiers to rhapsodize over human pets, but a Merit queen with human blood ruling over them? No thank you. The idea is laughable. And terrifying. Mostly because the weakest, sickest part of me wants this. Longs for it.

Crunch.

My body bounces off a tree trunk, and I stumble backward over rocky mounds. “Where in the Blood Sun did that come from?” I mutter, rubbing my nose.

“Daydreaming fool!” says Meerade. “Heed where you walk.”

“I was paying heed, you insolent rodent eater.”

“Shh,” she hisses. “Too quiet! Forest is too quiet!”

“Not inside my head. If you were privy to my thoughts, you would find the conversation both loud and chaotic.”

She bites the point of my ear. “Be quiet now and listen, King of Merits.”

Slowing my breathing, I do as my wise owl bids and listen.

I stop in the brush and plant my feet wide, muscles taut, ears pricked, and I hear…nothing.

Insects dance along shafts of sunlight between the spruce trees, but I hear no chirping of birds. No scratching of creatures. No laughs or whispers from the Elemental hunting party who are meant to be scouring the forest nearby. I am alone, and where the hell are they?

Bow drawn beside my cheek, I spin slowly in the eerie silence. Then I notice the lack of weight on my left shoulder. My owl has vanished. “Meerade?” I call.

Branches snap behind me. I swing my head around, expecting to see either a hideous horned monster or my owl. But it’s Olwydd, my dead brother’s bird—a foul omen indeed.

“What are you doing here?” I snarl out.

Black-pebble eyes spin in its evil little bronze head. Whirring with a click-click-click, it alights into the air, disappearing above the trees. I look up, marveling at how clear the sky is, unmarred by the violet clouds that often blanket the Merit City.

“Good riddance to stool pigeons,” I say. No doubt he’s gone to find the Fire king to alert him of my presence and fabricate some transgression on my behalf. Olwydd has always been a traitor.

On a heavy sigh, my eyes move from the treetops to the forest ahead. Perhaps, for fun, I should hunt the Elemental party instead of the beast? I unhook my water pouch from my belt and take a long drink. As I reattach the pouch, a stand of trees sways and parts, and I spy enormous silver antlers glinting between moss-covered branches and moving toward me with speed.

I pull my bowstring tight and draw a slow breath, releasing magical energy that should throw a wall of protection in front of me…except…nothing happens. “What in the realms?”

The creature breaches the trees, its roars shaking the ground beneath my boots.

The thing moves at the speed of light magic, so fast its grisly limbs and maw blur as they drive forward. I loose my arrow, and the annlagh knocks me to the ground, all breath leaving my lungs in a hard whoosh.

“Stupid, stupid king,” it says, its knee on my chest and clawed fingers clamping my neck.

How could my magic fail me so thoroughly? I don’t understand.

I wheeze and stare into translucent eyes that burn with power as old as time. “How did you…?”

“How, you ask, oh, dense one?”

The beast’s fetid breath makes me gag as its drool drips on my cheek and slides under my collar. Dewdrops glitter like jewels on its antlers, but the grass and leaves are dry.

“Stand,” the annlagh says, leaping off me and moving a few strides away.

I swipe my bow from the ground as I lurch upward, withdrawing an arrow from the quiver on my back, then nocking it while the beast stares, unmoving.

Aim true.

I draw the bow tight. The string cuts into my soft-leather glove, but my fingers won’t release it. The creature’s eyes track the blood that drips from my fingers, my arms shake, and still, I cannot loose the arrow.

“Riven Èadra na Duinn,” it says. “I have long wished to meet you.”

I blink once, and in that instant, the beast disappears, leaving in its place a willowy woman dressed in silver, a cloud of white hair billowing around her head and shoulders. Her features are indistinct, shrouded in a glamor, but her voice is as clear as a crystal bell.

This is no annlagh, no Elemental courtier, but whoever in the seven realms she is, she’s more powerful than an Unseelie king. I should be quaking with fear, but I’m not. I am resigned and ready to face my fate. Whatever it may be.

She smiles, or at least her mouth twists in the rough shape of one. “Your fingers are bleeding. Lower your bow, for you cannot possibly use it.”

I let it fall to the ground. “Who are you?”

“Your question could be better formed, King of Merits.”

Sighing, I look to the sky. “I have long despised nitpickers of language. It reveals a shallow nature.”

“You are amusing, Silver One.”

Well, she can talk about shining things—she’s the one who glows like a winter moon.

“You would do better to ask what I am, not who.”

“Fine. What are you, then?”

“Oh, Silver King, you are foolish,” she says, ignoring the question she forced me to ask. “You come into the territory of your family’s long-time enemy and do not even think to wear your crown of jet. A crown that offers you much protection.”

“A king’s crown is not made for hunting.” Against my will, my fingers go to the obsidian circlet on my brow. I raise my chin at the white lady. “I ask again—what in the realms are you?”

“A friend.”

I breathe a laugh through my nose. “I sincerely doubt that.”

Milk-white hands reach for me. They shoot golden light into the center of my chest, the pain arching my back and rumbling a groan from my lips.

“Answer one question, Riven na Duinn. Who is it you seek?”

“Always Merrin Fionbharr.” The words burst out of me, beyond my control. I grind my teeth against the pain of this fiend’s terrible magic.

“Yes,” she says. “You do. And for what purpose?”

“To…” I swallow a moan. “End. Her.”

“Wrong answer, Silver King.”

The spear of light falls away from my body, and a golden bow appears in the lady’s hands, a long arrow already nocked. Aiming at my heart, she draws the bow tight, then releases the arrow. It hits my chest with a loud thunk.

“I’m wearing armor,” I say daftly as my hand goes to my chest panel, finding it split, blood seeping from the seam.

No.

That’s not possible.

In a trance, I gaze down at the fletching bouncing at the end of the arrow that protrudes from my chest. Gripping the shaft, I draw a breath to speak. “But how—”

Laughter tinkles, the sound charming, like water dancing over stones in a brook. “Be careful, Riven. Don’t pull too hard on that. I need you alive. Now would you be so good as to hurry up and pass out? You’re as strong as a fomórach. I’m sure you don’t wish to behave like those impulsive giants and make everything worse, do you?”

“Did…did Rafael send you to kill me?”

This time, her smile is clearer, and I can almost make out her facial features. She slinks forward and places two cool fingers on my lips. My teeth chatter against them.

“Shush now. Time for all good kings to go to sleep.”

Then she pushes me backward, and I slide down the hill and fall into a turbulent sea. No. That can’t be right. I’m in a forest. It must be a bed of writhing sweet grass. A cushion of gnashing wild flowers. A pillow made of storms and smoke and cool breath.

I fight my heavy lids, my eyes searching for the white woman, but she’s gone. Disappeared like a phantom. Thank the Blood Sun, for I did not like her much.

Slowly, slowly my blood travels through my veins, my heart growing weaker with every panted breath. Where is Meerade? My vision clouds, then dims. My energy fades fast, but I lift my heavy hand and press it against my wound, feeling the blood seep hot between my fingers.

I never imagined my end would be so pitiful. So wretched and lonely. I wish Lidwinia were here, and Elas, too.

Releasing a painful sigh, I watch the translucent leaves move against the sky. So blue. So peaceful. A soft whinny sounds nearby. Raghnall! “Go home,” I tell her in my mind. “Go now.”

In the distance, an angel speaks of death, then an unpleasant weight crushes my chest. Waves of red block my view, narrowed silver eyes frowning down at me.

Ah, of course, a vision of the Elemental princess has come to ruin my final moments and force me from this realm into the next. I suppose that is fair. I had planned to be present at her last breath, too.

A chuckle escapes my lips, more of a cough than a laugh. A strange time for humor, but it’s amusing to find myself staring at this girl, a ghost come to haunt me into my grave.

I want to raise my fingers and touch her freckles, glittering like tiny stars on her lovely face.

I try to lift my head and bid this phantom Merri farewell. I part my lips, and all that comes out is one word, “You.”

The phantom frowns but doesn’t dissolve or utter a single word.

“You,” I say again.

Then the darkness takes me.