The Mad King (The Dark Kings #1)(5)

I glowered, staring at a polished whorl of wood with unseeing eyes. None of this was fair. Or benevolent. And Syrith might hate me for it, but I’d give my sanity back in a second if only I could snap my fingers and fix it all.

Syrith clenched my fingers tight, and though I knew he’d not heard my thoughts, he knew me well enough to know the winding trail I followed.

“Fairy,” he said gruffly, yanking me back from my dark thoughts. “Whatever it is you’re thinking, stop now.”

His jewel-green eyes hooked mine. I sighed heavily, shaking my head.

“I know this burden is great, but please, do not lose heart. No matter what’s happened, I know we can fix this.” His words rang with surety and blind faith.

My lips thinned and my stomach flopped to my knees. I wanted nothing more than to live up to his expectations of me, but this felt far beyond my capabilities.

The hall was very nearly empty, save for the centauress and the satyr still awaiting my orders on where they should head next. I could finally give in to my need to unburden myself just a little.

I knew Syrith would never judge me as weak or helpless, not him. It was okay to not have to pretend to have it all together. Closing my eyes briefly, I shuddered into his powerful chest, trembling as he wrapped his strong arms about me.

I clutched his back, fisting his shirt through my fingers. “Syrith, I must go soon. And where I go, you cannot come. I fear for you, my love. I do not know what comes next. If another blast of magic were to ripple through our world, there’s no saying you’d survive the next—”

Quieting my words with the press of his finger to my lips, he said, “Hush now. Nothing will happen to me. You’ve had Baba ward the walls of this castle. Wild magic cannot harm me in here. I vow to you I will not set foot outside the gates, though it galls me to let you go without me. I’ll stay back and bring as many denizens here as I can. We’ll feed and house them. We’ll protect them, Galeta. Only promise to return to me.”

Looking up at him with tears clinging to my lashes, I was sure I could never love anyone else the way I loved him. Syrith would forever own my soul; he was the strength that beat in me. He was the reason I’d fought so bloody hard to release my demons. Because I’d wanted to be a better woman. For him. Wanted him to be proud of me the way I was of him.

Syrith was my bulwark, and I would perish without him.

“I love you,” I whispered. “In case I’ve never told you that enough, never doubt my devotion to you, my mate.” Then, leaning up, I tipped his jaw toward me and our lips met in a passionate, yet all too brief, kiss.

He nodded. “Always, my fairy.” With one final kiss to my forehead, he squeezed my fingers tightly, gazed at me with all the longing in his soul, then turned on his heel and left the great hall.

Having him leave felt a little like a small death.

I did not know my fate. Did not know if, at the end of all of this, I’d ever return to my mate again. But he trusted me, believed in me... No one ever had before. His faith in me meant everything. I could not bear to let him down.

With one final shudder, I squared my shoulders, huffed my tears dry, and turned, lifting my chin high as I gazed at the centauress who’d been kind enough to give me my time with him.

Finally she bowed her head in greeting.

Tymanon was a lovely centaur. Strong. Capable. And also very likely the most intelligent creature in all of Kingdom. She had an innate sixth sense that would make her invaluable to the task assigned her.

I would someday pen her tale, and though I’d hoped to be able to do it much sooner, I knew the centauress would understand. Petra stood strong and fearless beside her. He didn’t talk much, but I could sense the honor that beat at the very core of him.

“How may we help, Pink?” Tymanon asked with that naturally sultry, feminine tone of hers.

Glancing between the two of them, I clenched my fingers around the base of my wand. I knew what I was about to ask them, the journey it would take them on, but I also knew that they were the only two capable of such a trek.

“You are truly the wisest among us, Tymanon, a centauress without equal. Therefore, I’ve assigned you the task of speaking to the three Fates.”

She frowned, far too perceptive not to understand the precarious undertaking at hand. “The Fates? They never give anything without something in return.”

Nodding, I turned my palm over, and after a sudden flash of brilliant neon pink, opened it to reveal a three small but brilliant seed pearls. “Of course you are correct. That is why you will give them these.”

She reached out her hand, and I gently tipped the seeds into it. The seedlings were warm to the touch and would give the holder an instant feeling of euphoria. A blush spread through her pretty cheeks. Blinking, she looked up at me.

I knew what she wanted to know before she asked. “Yes, they are three of the six seeds of wisdom,” I said, patting my pocket to indicate I still held on to the other half of the set. “Anyone who possesses even just one seed would be able to see into the cornucopia of worlds crafted by the Creator Itself. Trust me when I say the Fates will be no problem for you.”

Gingerly, she placed the seedlings inside the leather pouch belted around her waist before quickly tying it shut. “And what would you have me ask of them?”

“You will know the questions when you get there. Think deeply, centaur. I know my orders seem vague. But I am following a beating, an instinct inside me that tells me you must be the one to ask the question, for only you would ask the right one. The Fates are punctilious about only answering the barest minimum, so no matter what you do, be as specific as possible. You must force the proper answers out of them, or you’ll know just as much when you leave as when you arrived.”