Before the Mist King could find a way across the chasm, Oberon had created the protective circle around Albyria and Teine, keeping both the invading army and the dangerous mists out. But it must have come at a greater price than Oberon had ever admitted, least of all to the mortals he forced to obey him.
He’d lost his power.
“Wait a minute,” I said when I caught up to Niamh. “If Oberon doesn’t have access to his powers, how does he give immortality to his mortal brides? How does he protect the humans of Teine from wounds and disease?”
“That’s a good question,” she said, her armor clinking as we walked. “It’s one we’ve tried to find the answer to ourselves. The truth is we don’t know, but he shouldn’t be able to do any of that, evenwithhis powers. Elite light fae control fire and light. He’s controlling life. Whatever power he’s using, it isn’t his.”
Interesting.
Our party journeyed in near silence. We carried on down the mountain, the mists a cool caress against my cheeks. With every hour that passed, my eyes grew more adjusted to the strange and twisting darkness. I saw that it wasn’t quite as dark as I’d first thought. I could spot vague shapes through the shadows. The mountain that rose up behind us was visible high above in sharp, jagged peaks, backlit by some vague light.
The Mist King fell into step beside me and saw me glancing up. “That’s the moon.”
I widened my eyes, taking in the soft round glow, fuzzing at the edges. “I’ve heard about the moon. In books, of course. But I didn’t expect to be able to see it here. In Teine, there’s no such thing as darkness. Not outside, at least. I didn’t think you’d have any light at all.”
“We’re the Kingdom of Shadow,” he murmured. “Not darkness. There’s starlight, too. On nights the mists cleared, you’d be able to see them.”
Surprised, I let my gaze wander to his face. Even in the murky darkness, his profile was striking. He was a tall, imposing figure beside me as we walked down the path barely wide enough for two, especially someone as broad-shouldered as him. The sword on his back swept between his shoulder blades, the curved blade illuminated by faintly glowing gems that matched the sapphire of his eyes.
The sight of him there in the mists was mesmerizing.
I swallowed hard and glanced away. “The mists clear?”
“In Dubnos? Not in centuries,” he said in a voice that betrayed his pain. “The mists have always been here, of course, but they thickened after the war. They rarely leave now, no matter how hard I try to force them away.”
“Right. I have to know. What in the name of light happened that day?”
Pebbles crunched beneath our boots as we continued forward, Alastair leading the way in the front of the group. The Mist King sighed. “Oberon and I fought. All of this is a result of that.”
“More specifically…” There was more to it than that. I was certain of that now. And if I was going to be the one to kill King Oberon for him, then I wanted to know everything I could. Something told me it all went back to the Mist King’s mother and whatever Oberon had done to her. Kalen had attacked to avenge her death. And Oberon would never back down against a threat.
“Oberon was playing around with the power of the gods, power he never should have touched,” he said, causing a jolt of shock in my gut.
I lifted my brows. “What power? What gods?”
“The five immortal riders who wanted to rule this world.” With a shake of his head, he let out a bitter chuckle. “Do you know, it almost sounds like Oberon likes living in his little bubble. With so few mortals and fae under his reign, and with so little land, he can control every single aspect of it. He must have burned every book that mentioned any of this and made the fae swear never to speak of it to you.”
Unease slithered through me. “So, you’re telling me those gods arereal?”
“Oh yes,” the Mist King said with a harsh laugh. “And they are far more dangerous than any fae you’ve ever met. Long ago, fae and mortals banded together to banish them from this world. Those things you accuse me of doing—burning living souls and then eating their charred flesh? They did that, long ago. Now, King Oberon not only wants to bring them back. He wants to become one of them himself.”
Twenty-Two
Tessa
Several more hours passed in silence. The Mist King wandered up ahead to Niamh after our conversation, with his raven perched on his shoulder, leaving me to make sense of it all. Everything I’d been taught about the world was a lie. Well, most of it, anyway. King Oberon was even more dangerous than I’d ever known, if he wanted to bring back the gods. According to the myths, they’d almost destroyed this world. Grudgingly, I could see why the Mist King had gone to war.
Ifhe was telling the truth.
He could be lying. To gain my trust. To turn me even more against King Oberon.
One of the kings was hiding the truth of what happened all those centuries ago. I needed to figure out which one it was. Maybe it was both.
With my pack thumping against my back, we reached the base of the mountain. We crossed into the valley beyond where a youthful fae waited for us with five midnight horses. They pawed at the ground, nickering, while the Mist King dropped a pouch of gold into the merchant’s open palm.
“Where’s the fifth one going?” I frowned as the merchant hopped onto the back of one of the horses and cantered off.
“That one belongs to him.” He patted one of the horse’s rumps and fed him a carrot. “He had to get back home somehow. The mists are—”