The Source (Creasan #1)
Chapter 2

Sound slowly started to register in Thea’s ears, though it was muffled and incoherent. Thea’s head buzzed uncomfortably and her throat ached. Her head lolled to the side as she slowly awoke and she opened her eyes to black.

Or not black exactly. Some light filtered through, but it was meager. Thea realized there was a pouch over her head. She reached up to take it off, but her hands had been tied behind her back. She was sat on a wooden chair and she shifted in it to try to make out if her feet had been bound as well.

“She stirs, sire,” said a deep voice.

She recognized the sound around her now as laughing and chattering. The clink of plates. The squelching of food being torn. It was the sound of a feast in full swing.

The pouch was ripped off her head and Thea squinted into the flood of light, though it wasn’t especially bright light. Candles were the only source of illumination. It must have been night. Thea wondered how long she’d been out, how many hours she’d been entirely at their mercy.

A man moved to stand in front of her and she craned her head to meet the eyes of King Favian. He wasn’t exactly elderly, though he wasn’t young either. A silver beard framed his face but his red hair stood out like a flame on his head. Wrinkles creased his forehead, yet there were no other lines decorating his face. Young and old at once. It was curious how Thea could loath a man so deeply whom she’d never met. Though she had good reason to.

Thea could see a white cloth wrapped around his shoulder where her arrow had struck him. She felt a deep sense of satisfaction at being able to wound him.

King Favian smiled widely at her. “Allow me to be the first to welcome you to my home. I am King Favian of the Kingdom of Creasan. Might I ask your name?”

Thea just stared back at him. She knew he was going to ask for information on The Source, and she would give him nothing. Not even a twitch of her lips.

The king chuckled and looked at something above her head. “Why do all women resort to the silent treatment?”

Raucous laughter erupted behind her, and Thea had to clench her fists to keep from retorting. She hated to be made fun, especially when it came from such a pathetic creature.

“Right, then, I suppose I ought to name you myself. I will call you…May.”

“You will not,” Thea spat before she could stop herself. Quiet was not her strong suit.

“Oh ho!” the king exclaimed in surprised glee. “So she does speak. But if you will not tell me your name, fair maiden, how might address you?”

Bugger it, she was going to speak. “You won’t. You will let me go.”

“Will I?” The king crouched so he was eye level with her, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “And why, exactly, would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t, I will rip your throat out with my teeth,” she hissed.

The king’s brows flew up and gasps were drawn from behind her. “My, a feisty little thing, aren’t you?”

Thea clenched her jaw so tightly she was sure she’d caused some permanent damage to her teeth.

“Right, well, I apologize, but that isn’t going to happen. You and your comrades are the first real link we’ve had to The Source since their inception, and I am not going to waste it. Now, you can either cooperate, in which case you will be heavily rewarded.” He turned her chair, so she could see the feast behind her.

Two large wooden tables stretched down either side of the dining hall, people crowded around every inch of it, including Prince Fendrel and Queen Ana. Not one bit of the surface was not adorned with delicious food, and Thea’s stomach almost growled on principle. She had never seen a spread so extravagant and so wonderful. She’d been living off stale bread and squishy beans since she could remember. She often thought meals like this were things of legend; she didn’t even know someone who’d had ham, let alone turkey and beef. Yet there sat a full pig to the right and a large plate of beef to her left.

“Or,” the king said as he went round her to meet her gaze again, “you cannot. But I must warn you, the consequences of the latter will not be enjoyable.”

Thea would not be human if she wasn’t tempted. The people sitting around the table were plump with food while she had grown accustomed to the ache of hunger. Yet that was precisely why she needed to hold fast.

She spit in the king’s face.

Not even gasps this time, just dead silence and horrified stares from the guests.

Favian’s eyes had squeezed shut and remained so as her saliva dripped down his cheek. A Guard quickly handed the king a handkerchief and he very slowly wiped his face clean. When he opened his eyes again, gone was the laughing gleam. His green eyes shone with contempt and fury. He spoke to the Guard. “Bring them in.”

The Guard disappeared for a moment, and Thea stared off against the king. Perhaps she ought to have been scared. He was a large man but not for muscle. He was tall and heavy, no doubt from feasts like the one tonight. With a snap of his fingers, he could have her beheaded or worse. But she supposed that was the good thing about anger; it blinded a person to anything but it’s wonderful burn.

Doors opened behind her and footsteps approached, yet she still didn’t break eye contact with the king. She would not be intimidated or frightened, not by this man.

Two more chairs were dragged on either side of her, and people were plopped in them. The king grinned at her as he waited for her to look, but she would not give in no matter how curious she had become. Favian frowned when she didn’t turn and spun to his guests, gesturing widely as if he were a conductor. “There were three would-be assassins present this morning, and here all three sit before you. Though they had tried to hurt us, they have failed, as they will each time.” The guests clapped, not like the crowd had done earlier, but with soft restrained claps. Delicate, sophisticated. Droll.

But Thea had heard what he’d said, and while his back was turned, she glanced at the two men sitting beside her. Merek and Carac. There were more wounds on Merek’s face than there’d been in Vuttera and blood drooled out of his mouth as he leaned forward, barely conscious. On her other side, Carac’s left eye had swollen shut and he was trembling so hard with fear. He was really only a child. He hadn’t been ready for this sort of attack, and Thea should have known it. She felt her heart sink; she had done this to them. She had promised success and brought them only suffering.

“Now, I do not enjoy hurting women,” the king said, turning back to Thea, “but you must understand that I cannot allow a danger like The Source to continue to operate in my kingdom. If you really wish to stand in the way of my discovering these perpetrators, you will have to suffer the same fate as these poor men beside you.”

She took several deep breaths, her nostrils flaring, as she tried to gain control of her temper. Another thing she seemed to be failing miserably at. “Perhaps instead of trying to obliterate them,” she said, “you should listen to what The Source has to say.”

“A father does not indulge his child’s whims because it throws a tantrum,” he answered.

Though Thea’s fuse was admittedly short to begin with, that was the last spark she needed to explode. “You are no one’s father. I am willing to bet you are not even Althalos’ father. Isn’t that right, Queen Ana?”

Murmurs spread throughout the guests and Queen Ana flushed bright red as she shot to her feet. “I have never—“

“Oh, come off it. Everyone in the entire kingdom knows.” She recited, “‘One who meets the king and begs must first go through Queen Ana’s legs’.”

Her mouth fell open, and the murmurs became fevered gossip. The king’s fingers curled into fists at his side and she could tell by the puffing of his cheeks that she’d humiliated him. She cocked her head to the side as she smirked.

Carac leaned over and hissed, “Thea, what are you doing?”

She shushed him as she gazed up at the king, feeling rather pleased with herself.

Merek began to stir beside her, drawing in a sharp breath of pain. “What’s happened?” he groaned.

The king took a step forward. “I want the name of the man in charge and one of you is going to give it to me.”

Queen Ana moved away from the table, glaring at Favian. “Aren’t you going to say something in defense?”

Favian ignored her, grabbing hold of Thea’s hair and yanking her head back. She refused to show pain even as sparks of pain sizzled through her head. “The names! I want the names!”

“Favian!” Queen Ana shouted, glancing over her shoulder at all the eyes currently on her, wagging tongues hidden behind food and hands. “Tell them it isn’t true. I would never betray my king.”

Merek spoke haltingly, “I believe your wife is speaking to you, Highness.”

“It is Majesty!” The king released Thea and moved toward Merek, gripping his hair as he had Thea’s and yanking him backward. Merek was unable to stop the shout of pain from escaping him at the sudden movement. “Give me a name. If you do, I will have you bandaged up and off to your own castle before you’re even able to comprehend the gift you’ve been given.”

Merek’s eyes slid to Thea’s and she saw the agony there. She wasn’t entirely certain what they’d done to him while she’d been unconscious, but she knew it had been horrible. Still, she begged with her eyes and shook her head. Merek looked back to the king and said, “We don’t know anything. You’re wasting your time with us.”

“I want names!” the king roared.

“All right, everyone out.” This came from Prince Fendrel. He had risen from his seat and was gesturing in a shooing motion to the guests. Without a moment’s hesitation, the guests had abandoned the food and were shepherded out of the dining hall. The only people who remained behind were The Guard, Prince Fendrel, and Queen Ana.

The prince turned on his brother, shaking his head in bewilderment. “Are you mad? Why on earth would you do this in front of your entire court?”

The king shifted his gaze from Merek to Fendrel. “I do not have to explain myself to you. I am king.”

“You are,” Fendrel said, pacifying. “Which is why you cannot afford to look weak.”

“I am not weak!”

“You appeared so tonight. Which is why I believe this interrogation to be better suited to a private audience—“

“It is not your decision to ma—“

“You looked incompetent!” Fendrel exploded.

While they argued, Carac leaned over to Thea again and asked, “How are we going to get out of this?”

“I’m thinking.” And she was. Her eyes were taking in every inch of the dining hall. They were in the palace, that much was obvious. But she had no idea where the dining hall was situated in regards to the rest of the palace. If they managed to break out of there, who knew what awaited them on the other side of the door? How would they even know how to get out?

Lief would have known.

“Well, think faster,” Carac said as he eyed the arguing brothers. “I do not know how much more I can—“

“You.” The king whirled on them, pointing at Carac. “What are saying?”

Carac’s mouth moved silently as he tried to think of an answer.

Favian stalked toward him, drawing a dagger from his pocket and poising it at Carac’s throat.

Queen Ana said, “Stop it, Favian.”

“I asked you a question,” he said, ignoring his wife yet again.

“I was…I didn’t say anything.” Carac swallowed hard as the king pressed the knife to his throat.

Fendrel put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and spoke softly. “It has been a long and trying day. Perhaps you ought to get some sleep. You can deal with the prisoners in the morning, when you have rested.”

“These three tried to kill me,” the king growled. “I want answers—“

“And you shall have them,” Fendrel allowed. “In the morning.”

Favian glanced away from Carac and locked eyes with his brother. Unspoken words passed between them and Fendrel gave a slow, encouraging nod. He dropped the dagger, and Carac drew a deep breath of relief. The king turned to a Guard. “They are to be kept separate in the dungeon. No communication between them.”

“Yes, sire.”

The king inclined his head to his brother before leaving the hall in a flurry of expensive clothes and an air of superior fury.

Queen Ana moved to follow him, but she stopped in front of Thea. “I may not be king or have the mind of an advisor, but I am not an idiot. Your hatred for my husband is deep and fierce. I do not pretend to understand why, but I know it to be true. However, we are people who live in this palace. Not some unfeeling monsters. Your actions have consequences for all of us. You ought to be ashamed of the way you behaved tonight.”

Thea cocked a brow at her. “Did my rhyme hurt your feelings? Excuse me while I search for the ability to care.”

Queen Ana sniffed indignantly, not bothering to respond, and exited the room.

Fendrel studied each of them with a cool analysis. He didn’t share the red hair of his brother and was clearly much younger than the king. Since that morning, he’d tied his long flowing black hair back in a ponytail, allowing Thea to get a good look at his face in the candlelight. Whereas Favian’s eyes were green, Fendrel’s were blue. His strong jaw was outlined by the peppering of facial hair, and his broad shoulders were set consciously at ease.

“We do not want to hurt you,” he said.

Merek snorted. “I can tell.”

“You have to understand, this kingdom cannot function if there is no one to govern it. The king is needed, whether you agree with him or not.”

“Duly noted,” Thea said.

Fendrel stared at them each in turn before he took a step forward. “Please. Give me something. Anything, so that I might bring it to my brother and save you the agony that will find you tomorrow.”

“So you’re the nice one, are you?” Merek shifted in his seat as if getting comfortable though it was clear that would be impossible. “What do you say, mates? Should we talk?”

Carac shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Can’t imagine why we would.” Thea smiled.

“Right. Sorry, Highness, did my best.” Merek grinned and blood stained his teeth. “Doesn’t seem like we’re in the talking mood.”

Fendrel sighed, pinching his nose as if to ward off a headache. “I am trying to help you.”

“If you’d really like to help us,” Thea said, “you can let us go.”

Fendrel looked at her drolly. “You tried to assassinate the king.”

Carac was quick to reply. “But we didn’t. Surely that’s got to count for something.”

Thea groaned internally. Please, Carac, stop talking.

Fendrel studied Carac. “Are you not the one who charged the throne with two daggers raised above your head?”

Carac hung his head in shame.

“Right.” Fendrel glanced over the lot of them again before landing on Thea. “You’re the leader then?”

“Course not, Highness,” Merek said, turning Fendrel’s attention back his way. “We don’t take direction from a girl.”

Thea knew he was just trying to protect her, so she saved any feelings of offense for a later time.

“Except it appears you do.” Fendrel took another step forward so that Thea had to strain her neck to meet his eyes. “Before and after each thing you say, the both of you look to her.” He crouched in front of her, very close. He lowered his voice. “I am willing to bet you’re rather high up in The Source’s ranks. Perhaps you even know the man in charge.”

She shrugged uncaringly, though her heart had started to pick up some speed. “I don’t know anything, Highness.”

“You his right hand lady?” Fendrel narrowed his eyes as if the answer could become clear to him if he could just bring the image into focus. “His wife, perhaps?”

“Not married, Highness.”

“Yet you’re obviously accustomed to leading. Definitely high-ranking.” It was almost as if he were speaking to himself now instead of actually asking questions. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he murmured, “You are the man in charge.”

Merek laughed, a little too loudly. “That’s preposterous.”

Fendrel didn’t react, forcing Thea into a battle of wills. She refused to break eye contact and flinch, but sweat had started to gather at her lower back and her throat had gone dry.

“Highness,” Merek tried again, “if she was the leader of The Source, do you think she’d have put herself in danger of being captured?”

But it didn’t appear any of Merek’s words were getting through. Thea could see it in Fendrel’s lit up eyes. He knew. He whispered, “It’s you.”

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