by H. L. Burke
“No one helped me.” He shrugged.
“But … someone must’ve!” she spluttered, helpless in the face of his deceit.
“I’m just smarter than I look, I guess.”
“Hmph.” She brushed past him, paused in the doorway, then glanced back over her shoulder. “It will take me a few days to set up the second challenge. In the meantime, you are invited to a feast to celebrate your victory. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I did underestimate you.” Her eyelashes fluttered against her ivory cheeks. “What other surprises do you have in store for me, Sir Human?”
“Hopefully at least two more.” He grinned. Still, worry stalked him.
For the first time, Agalea was looking at him as if he had a chance of winning, but for some reason, that didn’t reassure him one bit.
Chapter Six
When Olysa and the winged hounds escorted him back to his cottage, Sevaine was nowhere to be seen. Part of him hoped she’d pop out from under the bed. Once Olysa locked the door behind him, he even checked beneath the furniture, in case she were hiding there, maybe to leap out and surprise him once he’d let his guard down. He hadn’t known her long, admittedly, but a surprise attack seemed like something a cat-elf would do. He wished she were there to tease her about pouncing.
The door opened again a short time later and a serving girl entered—not Sevaine but the dark-skinned one he’d seen at his last meal. She brought him a jug of clear water and a plate of bread and some sort of roast meat, brown on the outside with a sprinkling of green herbs, red and glistening in the center, still flowing with juices. She laid a knife with a hilt of deer antler beside this, bowed to him, and left him alone. He polished off the meat, which tasted rather like venison though less gamey and more tender than he was used to, savoring the way the juices ran down his throat.
He was working on the bread and sipping the water, when the thought crossed his mind to put the knife under the mattress. Perhaps they wouldn’t think to collect it with the other dishes if it wasn’t in plain sight, which might leave him with a weapon. He didn’t like not having a weapon …
However, no sooner had the thought crossed his mind then a hissing noise drew his attention to where he’d placed the knife. The blade steamed before it melted like ice. He gritted his teeth. Clever, but not very trusting of them.
With half the water and most of the bread gone, he kicked off his boots again before reclining on the bed and forcing worry about the future out of his mind. He’d conquered the first challenge. Sevaine said she could get him through the next one. Worrying beyond that wouldn’t do him any good. Crickets chirped pleasantly in the distance as he sank into his mattress and deep into sleep.
He slept so soundly that when he heard the hounds bark, he ignored it and rolled over to snooze. A few minutes later, a giggling jarred his eyes open. He sat up in bed, blinking away the bright sunlight to stare at two young women, both with the pale skin and blue-shaded hair of fairies, though they wore simple brown dresses that reminded him of Sevaine’s garments. Other servant girls, perhaps?
“The human’s awake!” one squealed. “Felys, bring the garments!”
Sevaine strode into view, carrying a stack of blue and silver cloth.
“She has a name.” Devin scowled at the first girl. Apparently Sevaine didn’t get much respect even among the other staff.
The girl’s bottom lip drooped slightly, but Devin ignored her and concentrated on Sevaine.
“More clothes?”
She kept her head down, her eyes on her bundle, not his face. “Yes, sir. For the banquet this evening. Her Majesty wishes you to be dressed fittingly.”
He took them from her. “Thank you.” His stomach grumbled. His insides felt as if someone had scraped them clean while he slept. “Any chance of getting some breakfast?”
“More like luncheon, and a late one at that.” A faint smile crept over Sevaine’s face. “You slept well past noon.”
“Yeah, well, it’d been a long day.” He caught the sparkle in her eye and had to smile. “Not all of us can subsist on catnaps.”
She gave an exaggerated eye-roll.
“Go!” The second fairy pushed Sevaine. “He wants food! Get him food, lazy bones!”
Devin snatched the fairy’s arm. “Cut it out,” he growled. She stiffened before going limp. “How about you two milky idiots go get my lunch, since you don’t seem to have anything better to do?”
After exchanging a quick glance, the two fled the cottage.
Once they were gone, Sevaine’s posture straightened, and she looked him in the eye. “Careful. You don’t want them to get an idea that we’re friendly.”
“Oh, they’ll see how unfriendly I can be.” He plopped on the bed and fished under it for his boots. “So, I beat the first trial.”
Her mouth dropped open, and she gasped. “No? Really? And here I thought you’d failed, were immediately killed like all the others who failed, and I was just speaking with your ghost! Are all humans so masterful at stating the obvious?”
He clicked his tongue. “Cat’s got claws. I get it. Forgive me for making friendly conversation.” Reclaiming his footwear, he stood. Devin nodded at the stack of clothes. “So the queen thought I deserved new raiment?”
“As one of only two men to defeat her first challenge, you are to be her guest of honor at a feast tonight, and to do that, you must be properly clad.” Sevaine laid a dark blue tunic embroidered with silver stars and a pair of silver leggings that shimmered in the sunlight upon the bed. Next to this, she placed a belt of silver links then a set of blue, silken slippers, with toes that curled up at the ends.
Devin snorted. “If it’s all right with you, I’ll keep my boots.”
“You should feel grateful she changed her mind about making you dye your hair a respectable blue or green for the evening’s festivities. The idea was suggested, but the royal hairdresser wasn’t sure the enchantments they usually use on their own locks would hold on human hair. She even thought you might end up bald if she tried it, and apparently brown hair is more appealing to the queen than no hair.”
Devin winced. “Yeah, mud-brown or not, I like my hair the way it is.”
Sevaine’s expression softened. “I like your hair. It reminds me of an otter’s pelt. I like otters.”
“Never met one personally, but I guess as animals go, they’re fine.” He laughed. He eyed the change of clothes. “I expect I’m supposed to change into these … I was hoping we’d get a chance to talk before the fluffhead sisters return with my food.”
“I’ll turn my back.” She stepped a little away and faced the door.
He tugged off his shirt and reached for the tunic. “So, the next trial is a glass tower I have to climb? That sounds straightforward and impossible all at the same time.”
He pulled the tunic over his head and shifted his shoulders until it fell right. Though he wasn’t sure about the embroidery and found the cut of it a little more form fitting than he would’ve preferred, the cloth was light and comfortable.
“I don’t think it’s impossible. After I left you last night, I slipped over to the tower. It was unguarded. I don’t think she anticipated you passing the diamond trial, so she wasn’t taking any care over the second test.”
Sitting down again, he turned his attention to the leggings. “That’s good, I guess. Do you think she will be watching it closer now? I’m decent again. You can turn around.” He pulled on his boots.
“Probably, but it shouldn’t matter.” She faced him with a broad smile. “I tested a theory for how you can beat it last night. I actually got about halfway up the tower. I didn’t want to risk climbing the whole way—too great a chance someone would see me once I got over the treeline—but it proved the concept.” She reached into her bodice and pulled out a length of leather cord. “While the tower is narrow, it is too wide to get your arms around, as well as slick. However, if you wrap a cord around it, you can kind of get a grip. Add in these—” Again her hand fished i
n her bodice … he did his best to keep his imagination from fishing with it. This time she produced a set of silver spikes. “If you attach these to the bottoms of your shoes, you can pierce the glass enough to get a foothold. It’s not easy, but it’s doable.”
He eyed her neckline. “What else do you got in there?”
Her cheeks reddened. “Well, if you haven’t figured that out by your age, I don’t think there’s much hope you’ll ever find out.”
A laugh escaped him, and he found himself grinning until his face hurt.
Her blush faded to be replaced with a soft smile and sparkling eyes. Something caught in his lungs, and he had to draw a quick breath. What was he doing? Could the time be any worse for this sort of flirtation?
Muffled voices saved him from figuring out what to say or do next.
Sevaine stiffened. “They’re coming back already. Do you have anywhere you can hide these but still keep them on hand? She might not give you much warning before the next trial. You want to be sure you will be all right even if you can’t get here to collect the items.”
“I should be able to hide them in my boots.” Not as exciting as her hiding places, but it worked. It took some finagling to get both the strap and the spikes inside of his boot in a way that they weren’t visible or painfully poking into his flesh. He got it done and straightened to face the servants returning with his food just as they walked through the door. Sevaine shrank into the corner at their approach, her chin dropping towards her chest again.
The servers set the food down on a small table beside the bed.
“I wouldn’t advise eating too much,” one of them said. “Captain Olysa will come and collect you in a few hours for the banquet.”
“I just want to take the edge off.” The platter consisted of mostly fruit and a few wedges of cheese. He recognized apples and grapes, but it also contained a variety of colored berries—red, pink, green, and yellow at a glance—not all of which he could identify. Fruit alone wouldn’t satisfy him for long. He sought Sevaine’s eyes. She gave him a faint smile before slipping out the door. Something within him ached. He didn’t want her to leave.
By all that is holy … what am I doing to myself?
Apparently satisfied that his appearance was now suitable for the queen’s court, the fairy servants followed after Sevaine, leaving him alone to eat.
Locked in a tiny room was an agonizing way to spend an afternoon. With his food gone, the books still indecipherable, and only so much room to pace, Devin stood in the center of the space and went through combat stances—not particularly productive without a weapon of some kind, but it allowed him to move and gave him something to focus on beyond the crawl of the sunlight slipping across the floor of his prison.
Finally a barking from the ever-present hounds alerted him to someone’s approach. The door swung open, revealing Olysa, helmet-less, armor replaced by a light tunic, belted, with a long saber hanging at her side. Devin guessed this was her “banquet attire,” and she looked far less comfortable in it than she had in the breastplate and helmet.
“We should leave now, or you’ll be late.” She motioned towards the door.
He shrugged. “Ladies first.”
“Follow me, then.”
In spite of her order to follow, Devin quickly fell into step beside rather than behind the captain of the guard. For once, the hounds didn’t accompany them, but Devin sensed that Olysa wouldn’t allow him a chance to flee. The way her hand constantly gripped her sword hilt was proof enough of that.
Still after a few steps, he noticed something off about the captain. Her usually determined strides seemed shorter, more measured, as if she were in no particular hurry to get to their destination. The atmosphere around them tensed, and a few times he caught her mouth opening, then snapping shut, out of the corner of his eye. After considering asking her what was on her mind, he kept quiet and waited.
They rounded the corner, and a towering structure stood out against the deep purples and oranges of a vibrant sunset. Minarets arched over the fairy palace like branches of a candelabra. Lanterns hung between sweeping balconies, and swaying catwalks connected distant sections of the building. Fairy folk in long robes crossed over these, carrying staffs with lighted tips. Some had wings upon their backs, glowing blue and purple and so visible even at a distance.
His throat closed in on itself. If not for his circumstances, he would’ve treasured the sight.
“None of us expected you to get through the first trial, least of all me.” Olysa’s words interrupted his amazement.
“I aim to surprise.” He forced the awe out of his tone, preferring a cynical edge. He took a step forward, but she gripped his arm with surprising strength and paused him midstride. He eyed her. Her face remained placid, except for that almost predatory glint in her eyes he’d noted after the first test. “Did you have something to say to me?”
“Just this. I admit, I chose to bring you in expecting you to fail. It hurt my heart less to sacrifice an outsider than to see another of our own fall.” Her lips pursed. “I thought at best you’d buy me a little more time before I was forced to separate another fae son from his mother with no hope to offer, but now, I see there is a chance that you could do this. You have some trick, some magic even, perhaps, that our fairy men lack.”
The magic of listening to Sevaine’s advice, but Devin was smart enough not to say that out loud.
“If you can succeed, you would close a wound that has cost our kingdom so much life blood.” The corner of her mouth quavered. “So much.” She released him and stomped forward, towards the twinkling lights of the palace. Music now drifted through the evening air, sweet and haunting.
They reached the entrance to the palace. Unlike the simple doorways Devin had exited through when leaving his first audience with Agalea, this was a broad stair flowing up to the palace like a waterfall over rocks. Lanterns of green glass hung from poles on either side. In the verdant glow fairies drifted up the steps like angels ascending to Heaven. Even in his new fine clothes, Devin felt out of place.
A grain of salt among diamonds.
He chuckled to himself. Well, he’d recently defended the value of salt. Time to stick up for it, and himself, and make his appearance at the royal banquet.
Chapter Seven
A long hall with a ceiling of arched and somehow still living birch trees stretched before him. Musicians played in one corner on harps and flutes and an elegant, long-necked fiddle of a variety strange to him. Some fairies danced. Others milled about in groups, chatting and munching on delicacies served to them by various waiters. At a glance he counted at least five women, all fairies it appeared, carrying trays heaped with food or carefully balancing goblets of liquor.
At the midpoint of a hall a fountain burbled, occasionally spurting lavender tinted water into the air or waves of iridescent blue liquid across its surface like fans. Beyond this was a table loaded with even more food and drink, and beyond that a dais with Agalea’s throne—or at least one very similar to the one he’d seen in the foyer at their meeting. Perhaps she had it moved around the palace to suit her needs.
“You’ll be watched, never think you’re free from that,” Olysa whispered a low warning. “But for now, eat, drink, be merry. If at all possible, try to convince our queen that you belong here, among us. It won’t cause her to show you mercy—at least it never worked when the other men tried to flatter her or beg for their lives—but it will at least stop her from deciding to forgo the test and just outright murder you.”
Devin coughed. “Thanks. I always like to begin my merriment with a dire notification that I might be killed at any given moment.”
Olysa’s brow furrowed. “That seems an odd tradition, even for a human, but I admit, I am not versed in your ways.”
Devin opened his mouth, but realized explaining the concept of sarcasm to a race incapable of lying wasn’t how he wanted to spend any great portion of his evening. “We’re an odd bunch,” he said i
nstead.
A familiar head of golden hair appeared beyond the fountain, and his heart leaped in a way he did not like. “Excuse me. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get something to eat.” He strode towards where he thought he’d glimpsed Sevaine only to see her slip away in the opposite direction, carrying a tray of cheese wedges. Of course, she was here in a working capacity. Well, at least her having food would give him an excuse to approach her. He longed to talk to someone who could understand the concept of irony, if only for a few minutes.
“Sir Devin!” The crowd parted. Agalea stood from her throne. The crowd parted before her without so much as a gesture of command. It took all of Devin’s willpower not to scowl at her.
The queen approached him, swaying like a snake. She held a silver goblet out to him.
Conscious of the need to maintain appearances, Devin took it and forced a charming smile. “Thanks.”
“You surprised me today. I had not anticipated you passing the first trial, let alone so quickly.” Her wings extended, stirred the air, then folded daintily behind her once more. “There’s more to you than meets the eye, Sir Devin.”
He shrugged and brought the goblet to his lips. It tasted sweet and clear, like spring water on first sip, but with an aftertaste that twisted with complexity like clouds in a stormy sky. Notes of deep red berries, rich oak and earth, and even, somehow, sunlight mingled on his tongue long after he’d swallowed.
“I don’t like to reveal my secrets all at once.” He attempted to look over her shoulder, to see where Sevaine and her tray had wandered off to, but Agalea’s iridescent wings blocked his view.
“Are you looking for someone?” Agalea tilted her head to one side.
He took another drink, a deep draught this time. This time the drink burned the back of his throat. His senses heightened, making him acutely aware of the soft cloth of his own garments against his skin, the cool silver of the cup in his hand, and the taste of the wine. The lights softened, and Agalea’s skin sparkled. He placed the cup on the table. No, if wine could make him see Agalea as lovely and desirable, he needed to avoid it.
