The Siege of Shadows: Book one

Whispers in the Wind (45)*

The cloak I'd stolen from Kael was too big, dragging behind me like some oversized shadow, but it was warm. The thick fur lining shielded me from the cold bite of the fae lands, so different from the winters I'd known in the human world.

I wasn't supposed to leave Kael's chambers, especially not dressed like this, but I couldn't stand being inside. The air in there was heavy, oppressive, as though the walls themselves were watching me. Outside, at least, I could breathe.

The garden behind his rooms was quiet, the frost-covered paths winding between lifeless flowerbeds and bare, claw-like branches. I wandered aimlessly, pulling the cloak tighter around me, its familiar scent of smoke and pine both a comfort and a reminder of whose it was.

I stopped near a crumbling stone bench, tilting my face up to the sky. The sun was hidden behind a veil of gray clouds, and the air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decay. It was peaceful in a way that felt wrong, as if the garden itself were holding its breath.

A voice broke the stillness, sharp and low. My heart lurched, and I ducked behind a tall hedge, clutching the cloak to me as I peered around the edge. The sound was coming from a tall window just above the garden wall, its shutters slightly ajar.

I recognized the voice immediately—Taelric, the king.

"Tell me, Theros," he said, his tone as cold as the wind that bit at my cheeks. "Do your knights bring me the well, or do I have to start hunting myself?"

I shrank back, my pulse quickening. The well. I'd heard whispers of it in court—half-rumors and veiled remarks—but no one ever spoke of it directly. All I knew was that it was old, powerful, and important enough to make even the fae wary.

"They've found traces of it," came Kael's voice, calm and measured. "In the human lands. But it's hidden, and the search—"

"Excuses," Taelric snapped. "Always excuses. I don't care how well it's hidden. I don't care if your knights have to turn over every stone and slaughter every human to find it. I want that power, Theros. Do you hear me?"

Kael hesitated. I could almost hear him weighing his words. "The World Tree is dying," he said finally, his voice quieter but no less firm. "If we find the well, it could restore the tree. Balance the lands again."

"The tree," Taelric repeated, his voice dripping with disdain. "You waste my time with tales of a stupid tree?"

"It's not just the tree," Kael said, a hint of tension breaking through his composure. "The dead are rising. Without the tree, the veil between the worlds is thinning. If we don't act—"

"Not my problem," the king interrupted, dismissive. "Let the dead rise. Let the worlds crumble. None of it matters as long as I have the well. With its power, I'll be king of all lands—Seelie, Unseelie, human. And you'll have done your duty, Theros, or you'll wish you had."

I pressed a hand to my mouth, swallowing a gasp. The dead were rising? The World Tree was dying? None of it made sense, and yet, the weight of Kael's words settled heavily in my chest.

Kael's tone turned colder. "If the lands fall to ruin, there won't be a kingdom left to rule."

Taelric laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Then I'll build a new one. Do you think I care about the scraps of this world? The well is all that matters. If your knights fail me again, Theros, you'll go yourself. And if you can't find it..." His voice lowered to a dangerous growl. "Your little vacation in my castle will end."

Kael didn't respond. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, until the sound of footsteps signaled the king's departure.

I stayed frozen behind the hedge, my heart hammering in my chest. The king's words rang in my ears: Let the worlds crumble. Let the dead rise.