First things first, I needed to get out of here. But if he’d gone to so much trouble to keep me in Dubnos, spinning elaborate lies, I doubted he’d let me walk out of the castle gates. All that talk about giving me freedom, he hadn’t meant it. He’d just wanted me to trust him.
So, I needed to get out of this castle. I needed to make it through the mists alive—thankfully, Midnight might help me with that. And then I needed to sneak back into Albyria so that I could free Mother and Val.
Anger rushed through me at the thought of Oberon and everything he’d done to my people. I still wanted him dead, especially now. Deep down, I knew that some of what the Mist King had told me was true. Oberon was a monster who needed to be stopped, and he stood in the way of my family’s safety.
If he caught me, I’d never be free. He’d probably murder my mother and Val to break me once again.
I needed to get the Mortal Blade and kill him.
But if I killed him, his protective circle around Albyria would vanish. The mists would swarm Teine. Death and danger would follow. I could no longer trust the Mist King to provide safe passage to somewhere beyond the sea. The mortals would die.
My heart hammered as my mind spun through a thousand different answers. But there was only one way. One brutal way for me to save my family and everyone else in Teine.
I not only had to kill Oberon. I had to kill the Mist King, too. If he was dead, I did not think the mists would vanish entirely—they existed beyond him. But it would stop him from spreading them further across the lands. It would stop him from invading Teine.
Unfortunately, the gemstone that powered the Mortal Blade would only work once. I’d need to replace it to use the blade a second time.
But I had an idea.
* * *
When the clock chimed midnight, I cracked open my bedroom door and peered out into the silent corridor. My body tensed in anticipation of being seen by a soldier or member of the court, but the crackle of the torches was my only answer. With a deep breath, I slipped out into the hall.
My boots tapped against the stone as I crept forward, my eyes aimed on the path to the Mist King’s quarters, which were situated just beside the war room. I doubted he’d be sleeping now. Instead, he’d be at his table with Niamh and Alastair, plotting their moves well into the night. He wouldn’t see me slither into his room to snatch the Mortal Blade.
As soon as I got my hands on it, I would topple one of the stone statues that lined the hall, the bust of a former king from centuries past. Niamh and Alastair would rush into the hallway to investigate, and I would slip inside the war room to confront the Mist King alone.
And then I would stab him.
Hands sweaty, I pressed my fingers against his door and carefully pushed it open. My heart pounded in my ears, muted by the roar of my blood. With every other step, the memory of his lips against mine flashed through my mind. Eyes burning, I shoved that image away over and over, hoping it would vanish for good. I couldn’t think of him like that. Not anymore. He wasn’t the fae I’d grown close to in Itchen. That had been Kalen, a person who didn’t exist.
This was the Mist King.
I closed the door behind me and pressed my back against the wall, barely daring to breathe as I stared at the empty bed. Relief shook through me. He wasn’t here. If he’d been asleep, that might have made things easier, but I wanted to look into his eyes when he realized I knew exactly how much he’d betrayed me.
I would never again let a fae king rip my heart to shreds.
Quickly, I crossed the floor, spotting the abandoned pack in an instant. He’d left it hanging open on the floor beside his bed, as if he’d hastily dumped it before rushing off to his battle meeting. I knelt beside it and rustled through the contents.
Canteen. Blanket. And...my hand brushed iron.
The world slowed around me.
Breath catching, I pulled the Mortal Blade from the Mist King’s bag and held it up before me. The gemstone gleamed in the center of the weapon, flickering with eternal fire. It was the color of the eversun, whose power rushed through it.
Enough power for a mortal to kill a fae king.
I was so transfixed by it that I did not hear the door open.
“Tessa?” the Mist King asked from behind me. His voice held none of the softness he’d shown me in the final few days of our journey. Now, his words were laced with suspicion, as if he understood at once exactly why I was here, kneeling on the floor beside his open pack.
Slowly, I stood and turned to face him, careful to hide the blade behind my back. My heartbeat thrummed in my neck at the look in his eye. Pure, unyielding darkness.
“What are you doing in here?” he asked in a lethal quiet.
“I...” Swallowing hard, I glanced around. My fingers trembled around the blade. “I thought I might sleep better in here.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re lying.”