(not included in book)
(events occurring before the start of the story, as told from POV that never again occurs within the book)
Chapter
Council Concerns
“And you expect me to interfere?” Glancing around the assembled council of deities and delegation members, filled out with unfamiliar gods who’d made a resurgence since the apocalypse, Verity gave herself an internal pat on the back for keeping her voice steady under their scowling countenances.
She'd been full of expectation when she’d received the summons for today’s meeting, excited to lead a discussion concerning the current state of the Realms, and the opportunities such calamities presented.
Upon her arrival, her excitement built when she saw representatives from old pantheons, the Blood Lord in animated conversation with the Egyptian God Toth, Tiamat eyeing the Norse trickster Loki, hints the old gods were resurging and this meeting would be discussing what the future held – but it seemed they weren’t here to discuss progress. Oh no. Instead she was to be ordered about like a petulant child, all because the gods feared the Huntsman’s wrath. And knowing Gwynn, they were probably correct to worry, which only added to her frustration.
“If not you, then who?” The archangel, a representative of the celestial heavens, tapped his plastic ballpoint pen against the table. “You are the counterbalance to the Dark King, are you not?”
By rights, this seat belonged to Gwynn, the eldest and truest descendant of the royal fae lineage, ruler of the dark courts and guardian of the ley-lines. Since they’d not been able to bring him back for the last three months, it’d been up to her, the Queen of the Light Courts, to act as his placeholder. At first she’d believed herself up to the task, yet now had to admit how terribly naïve she’d been.
“Yes, in theory…” Only she was millenia younger and her bloodline diluted, her questionable claim to the Seelie throne was no match for Gwynn’s pure bloodlines and direct inheritance.
Her power was barely awakened in comparison to his, transferred to her only recently, when Gwynn’s biological sister, the Princess Alura had shrugged off the mantle to become the Blood Lord’s bride. Had she known the Light Court would be hers to rule, she wouldn’t have neglected her elemental magic development to focus solely on being a wife and mother.
“In theory.” Tiamat’s golden gaze sharpened as she met Verity’s own. “You bring only excuses to this table. No other that sits with us,” she regally waved her gold clawed hand around, “has been granted access or been allowed direct interference with the mortal realm.”
Translation: none of those assembled dared make a move on Gaia until Cassius deemed it appropriate they do so. Who, as usual, shone by absence.
“Maybe The Morrigan could–” She could hear the falter in her voice, her resolve weakening.
“I think not.” The Morrigan, appearing before them in the form of a beautiful woman dressed in a gown of raven feathers, pulled herself to standing, scoffing loud enough to draw all the attention of all, her menacing aura befitting her stature. “I’ve done enough to make up for this Council’s incompetence. I alone answered the call when Asmodeus attacked the mortal plane, surrendering my own power to help secure the ley-lines.”
She knew for fact the goddess carried some level of affection for Gwynn, he was rumored to be a distant connection of her divine lineage, so for her to have come to the Dark King’s aid on that fateful day had perhaps not been as selfless as she claimed. Pointing that out would only get her killed, thus Verity remained quiet, self-preservation prevailing.
“He’s in possession of the god killing sword,” Tiamat hissed out.
A knot tightened in her stomach, her mouth going dry. She only learned this disturbing news a few days earlier, and hadn’t known a moment's peace since.
“So I’ve heard.” The Morrigan bared her teeth back. “But unlike you I have nothing to fear from the Huntsman. Each of you had knowledge of Anu’s crime, and did nothing. I, at least, tried returning the priestess to him.”
Though by that time, the damage had already been done.
“The Morrigan is bound by the same limitations as we are.” Jareth, Ruler of the Vampire Realm and consort to the former Light Queen leaned back against his seat, his crimson gaze narrowed with ever-present suspicion.
“The Morrigan,” the goddess sent a bitter glare to the Blood Lord, “does not care to act against the Fae King. He survives on borrowed time as it is.” The Morrigan dropped her gaze.
“Attacking the Dark King to retrieve the sword could launch a cataclysmic series of events that will invertedly alert the infernal Realm. The longer we can keep the demons out of the loop, the better it will be.” Thoth, the Egyptian God of wisdom offered.
“Out of the loop?” How do you suppose the god-killing sword fell into the Huntsman’s hands if not given to him by Cassius?” The Blood lord’s crimson eyes were filled with suspicion, his astute mind likely already having reached the same conclusion she’d drawn on the matter.
All around, beings began to argue nervously amongst themselves the moment the infernal king’s name was mentioned, until the archangel held up a hand to bid silence.
“I don’t see why we should all get worked up about the Huntsman. Certainly he has the sword and a taste for vengeance,” Zeus, king of the Olympian pantheon yawned through his words, “but he’ll be dead soon enough.”
“We all know what happens to the Fae when they tap directly in the wild magic.” The blood lord briefly closed his eyes, a reminder that he did have skin in this, married to Gwynn’s sister as he was. “Nicnevin went feral after using it for one cast…”
“The fact he survives still is sheer vengeance-fueled willpower.” The Morrigan cut off the vampire's words, her tone cold and cutting as the death she was known for. “The mad fool pulled the full force of the wild magic through himself when he wrested the ley-lines from Asmodeus.”
“All that’s required of us is to keep away until the Wild Magic consumes him completely.” Zeus gave a half-hearted shrug, his expression impassive as though discussing the changes in the constellations over the millenia.
“And the Dark King risked this to save all of your useless asses.” The Morrigan averted her gaze and for a moment looked regretful. “I’ll not be party to this. Whatever amount of vengeance he can claim while in possession of that sword is well deserved.” With that, the Morrigan swirled out of the room in a flurry of shining black feathers.
Tiamat was the one to finally break the stunned silence.
“Queen Verity, it falls on you to ‘peacefully’ dispose of that sword before the Unseelie King starts causing problems.”
“So in times like these, with the realms in chaos, this is what truly concerns you?” It was little wonder how Asmodeus, the embodiment of corruption, had managed to manipulate the once mighty Council.
“I understand. Then, if there’s nothing else, I shall see myself out.”
With a less-than-dignified huff, she stood from her assigned seat. Correction – Gwynn’s seat, and walked out of the marble hall, one that had once glowed with power, its appearance once imposing to her but now looking as dull and colorless as its occupants.
Chapter
Playing the advantage
“The nerve of them.”
Stomping her feet to vent her indignation, Verity marched through her designated portal and strode into her own throne room without casting the gods and council members another glance. At least in her own territory she could freely pace. Damnation. They’d never been lacking in audacity, but to steer her–use her–in such a way went beyond the pale.
“What’s got you all worked up, beauty?” Warm hands circled her waist, hot breath tickling her ear, her husband’s soothing voice easing her tension and sending pleasing shivers through her body, her entire being responding to his presence with sensual heat.
“The Council, and your family.”
Back in the surroundings of her own domain she released the breath trapped in her chest. The room smelled of blooming lilacs and freesias, her favorites, the colorful tapestries of flowery landscapes and creamy white walls a welcome sight after the spectacle of the council hall.
“You, Silas, and Elodie are my family. The gods are…” Andrus’s lips brushed along the curve of her neck. “A consideration.”
“Well, they’re all holding me responsible for keeping Gwynn in check. As if I ever could.” She growled out the words, turning to face Andrus, laying her cheek on his chest so she could feel his heartbeat. Its slow steady drum was a metronome to her own panicked rhythm.
“In what way?”
“Somehow, that maniac has gotten his hands on the divine sword, which is making a lot of deities nervous, as you might expect.”
“The Sword?” His body tensed against her.
“The Shamshir e-Zomorrodnegār,” she whispered, as though saying the name out loud broke some rule of reverence surrounding the blade.
“The Huntsman has the god-killing blade?” Andrus pulled back to study her face, enough so that she could see his own darken with wariness.
“I’m sorry, you had enough to worry about. I thought maybe he’d lose it, or forget about it, you know how he gets…”
“How he gets? Stubbornly single-minded and fixated, you mean?” Andrus blinked away the incredulity, smoothing his expression into unreadable neutrality.
“And you knew this, this is why you’ve been acting strangely.”
That observation, though accurate enough, struck a nerve.
“No, I am acting strangely because we were blackmailed into offering our daughter as a bride to the Dark Fae king, who for the last few months has been growing more and more crazed and incoherent. Him going off on a divine murder spree would actually get him out of my hair for a bit, if it weren’t for the council holding me responsible!”
“Murder spree?” Andrus arched a brow, his expression turning amused at her rant.
“He’s declared vengeance on the gods who betrayed him.”
Andrus let out a low whistle at that bit of news. “Well no wonder they’re all nervous. Be it through action or inaction, most have had a hand in Gwynn’s cursed fate. Except for The Morrigan, perhaps. Gods, I bet she’s feeling smug now.”
“She is,” Verity grumbled at the recollection.
“Who thought it a good idea to give the Dark King, a being with the ability to traverse realms, a blade that can kill anything if given just cause?”
And Gwynn had just cause, for there were few who could claim true innocence when it came to the Dark King’s cursed fate.
“One guess.” He deserved the dirty look she cast at him, for it had been a stupid question, they both knew very well there was only one possible answer to that. Cassius. The demon god himself seemed to be stirring the pot for reasons unknown to her.
“Huh...”
“Huh. That’s all you have to say on the matter?” Pacing the room, she bit down on her nail, a habit Verity reverted to whenever nerves threatened to get the better of her. “I never made my peace with the deal we made for Elodie, but Andrus, I’m truly afraid now for our little girl. Gwynn is not… right. And I thought we still had time to figure something out.”
“My dearest, most beautiful wife. Wasn’t it you who once told me that within every calamity the opportunity for improvement hides?”
“Yes but the Council wouldn’t even hear my ideas, they were too busy quivering in their boots that Gwynn might come for them next. I hardly think…” She paused when catching the contemplative expression plastered on her husband’s handsome face. “You’re not referring to my Realms reform ideas, are you?”
“Correct, I’m not.”
“What are you scheming?”
“Zeus has been eager to form an alliance with the infernal Realm before Hades has a chance to. The two have still not reconciled.” Andrus rolled his eyes, running his hand across the back of his neck.
“I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
“You have connections with the Infernal Courts, could you write them a letter requesting a royal ambassador be sent to Olympus?”
This made even less sense to her.
“Certainly, but why would I do Zeus any favors? You know my opinion of your King.”
Rather than be affronted by her lack of reverence, Andrus smirked, he himself carried little love for the Olympians aside from his father and mother.
“Gwynn wants vengeance, and we want to be rid of your vow. All we need to achieve both is to provide Zeus with a reason to throw caution to the wind and host an elaborate party.”
Fear and excitement bubbled through her all at once. It was a risky play, one that could prove disastrous should it fail. But what if we succeed.
“Elodie will be free?”
“Write the letter, love, and convince them to come to Olympus. I'll take care of the rest.”
Light above, but she loved her husband, this god who so readily shouldered her burdens and lightened her load.
“Do you know where Gwynn is now?”
“The moon is full, the Wild Hunt will be riding–the only prey the Huntsman has been tracking for these last three moons is Anu’s last worshipper. Find the Erinyes named Enkara, and Gwynn will be close by.”
When he pressed a kiss to her lips, her heart seemed to swell. Insanity that after all these years, her infatuation with him remained every bit as fierce as it had been the very first time they had laid eyes upon each other.
“Understood. Leave this to me, my love, go to our children. Elodie is sure to be missing her mama.”
Comments