My stomach heaves, but I can’t look away. Not until he ceases moving. Only then do I whirl around, falling on my hands and knees, and retch onto the forest floor. I retch until my stomach is empty, until hot tears stream down my cheeks. When I feel Lorelei’s hand on my shoulder, I realize I’m wailing.
“You’re all right.” Lorelei’s voice is a soothing whisper but laced into her tone is a hidden truth. I’m not all right. None of this is all right. I see pink from the corner of my eye and realize Lorelei is handing me a bundle of filthy chiffon. As I turn to inspect it, I see she’s torn one of the layers off the skirt of her dress. That’s when I remember I’ve been stripped to my undergarments.
I accept the fabric and do my best to tie it around my waist. “I killed someone,” I finally manage to say. “I killed Mr. Meeks. My mentor. My lifelong friend.”
Lorelei hesitates before speaking. “There’s nothing I can say to make that right for you. I can only share your burden.”
A burden is exactly what this is. Will I ever be able to forgive myself? In the heat of my rage, I did what I thought I must do. I reacted. I saved myself and my friend and condemned a man to die. Of course, Mr. Meeks was by no means innocent. He may not have intended to kill me, but it was clear he had no reverence for Lorelei’s life or my well-being.
But does that make it right?
“We both made difficult choices today.” Lorelei’s voice quavers.
I rise slowly to my feet, feeling every aching muscle in the process. When I meet Lorelei’s eyes, I see conflict in them. She too killed a man today.
As if she knows what I’m thinking, she shakes her head. “I’ve never killed a person. Not before today.”
“Do you regret it? Even though he killed Malan?”
She looks at the body impaled upon the root. “I can’t say I regret it, no, but I don’t feel good about it either.”
“Then we feel the same.”
She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. “Come. We’re close to the wall. We’ll both feel better once we cross it. Physically, that is.”
It’s a slow journey to the wall, with neither of us pushing ourselves to the limit now that we’re no longer being chased by a madman. However, we must put as much distance between us and the laboratory as we can. Mr. Duveau said he’d be back to fetch Lorelei on his way to take my mother to the Spire.
My mother.
My breath hitches. I hate to think that Mr. Duveau could punish her for what was done tonight. He warned Mr. Meeks that he’d hold the surgeon responsible if anything were to go awry. Well, awry it went, and then some. But will Mr. Duveau maintain that no harm will come to my mother until her trial? Had I allowed too much room for interpretation in that bargain? Do I even have enough fae blood to enforce a fae bargain, however that works to begin with?
The towering stones of the faewall come into view as the trees begin to thin. I don’t know if it’s simply relief or from our nearness to Faerwyvae, but my pains seem to lessen. My breaths come to me easier with every step we take closer. Lorelei appears to be back to full health despite her torn, bloodied dress and grave expression.
I rub my arms over my bare shoulders as we cross between two standing stones and enter the dense fog. Only when it fades to reveal a spring meadow do we stop. We fall to our knees and sink into the plush, dew-covered grass. Night has fully fallen and all is quiet around us. Pink blossoms sway in the trees at the edge of the meadow while opalescent moths flutter through the night sky.
Lorelei tilts her head to the stars, as if bathing in their radiance. My eyes rove her wrists, and I see nothing but the faintest marks where the cuffs had chafed and the molten metal had burned. A dark stain covers her torso, probably from where Mr. Osterman speared her when he and Mr. Meeks captured us.
I examine my wrists and see that my own wounds have faded, perhaps more so than Lorelei’s. My eyes then move to my arms. Aside from being smeared with dirt and dried blood, it appears the cuts have sealed shut. Is that because of my heritage? Or because I used fire? Growing up, I never noticed any unusual rate of healing for whatever minor cuts and bruises I received. Could it be I’ve always healed quickly?
I feel Lorelei’s eyes on me. “Are any of your wounds bothering you?” she asks.
“No, they feel much improved. How about yours?”
She rubs her torso where her dress is stained with blood. “Sore, but mostly healed, I believe. The Butcher of Stone Ninety-Four let my spear wound close before he put me in the iron chains. I think he liked his prey to put up a fight.”
My throat feels tight as I recall his body, the root pierced through his chest. I blink the vision away. “What do we do now?”
She looks away, brow wrinkled as she ponders. Without meeting my eyes, she says, “We could go to Autumn. King Aspen will keep you safe.”
I remember the version of him in my dream, the terror in his eyes when he implored me to wake up. My heart sinks to think of him, especially when I consider the truth. Aspen wasn’t there. He’s home safe in Bircharbor Palace with his new Chosen. Just like I said I wanted.
“No, I can’t go there.”
She doesn’t question me or press further. Instead, she plays with a blade of grass, expression deep in thought.
“Is there anywhere safe to stay in Spring? We’re already on the Spring axis. Perhaps there’s somewhere I could lie low until my mother’s trial.”
She tilts her head as she contemplates. “Spring is a neutral seelie court, so you may be safe here. I don’t dare bring you to the palace though. If word has spread about who you are and what the humans have planned for you, there could be many who would either take you to King Ustrin or return you to Eisleigh. The same goes for any seelie ruler, in fact.”
“Maybe I should go back.” I shudder. “I should have taken my imprisonment to begin with. None of this would have happened if I had.”
“You don’t belong in a prison.”
“Neither does my mother.”
She lets out a sigh. “If you feel you must go back, I can’t forbid you. But I don’t believe they will be kind if you do.”
She’s probably right. After what I did, locking me in the Spire would be a mercy. Mr. Duveau’s bargain only stated no harm would come to my mother. He made no promise about me. There’s a good chance he would force me to spend my days before Mother’s trial in the care of another surgeon like Mr. Meeks, or perhaps he’d take me where he was planning on taking Lorelei.
“Do you know what the Briar House is?”
Lorelei’s lips pull into a snarl. “A brothel, most likely.” Her anger fades quickly, shoulders slumping. “Now that I know what the Butcher likes to do with his victims, I think Malan’s fate may have been a kindness.”
I remember the wings I saw on the shelves in Mr. Meeks’ laboratory, the jars of hearts and blood.
“That’s the only place I can think to bring you,” she says. “To Malan’s parents. I don’t even know if they would agree to harbor you, but they’re the only spring fae I know outside of the palace.”
I can tell by her expression that’s the last place she wants to go. “You feel the same way about Spring that I feel about Autumn.”
She nods. “But I made Aspen a promise.”
“You promised him you’d watch over me while I was in Eisleigh.”
“And until the situation with your mother was settled. To me, that means until her trial. I won’t leave your side.”
“I can’t ask you to take me to the home of your deceased mate.”
She plays with another blade of grass, and we fall into silence. After a while, she freezes, her stillness drawing my attention. “There’s somewhere else I can take you.”
“Where?”
She grimaces, and I already know this option doesn’t make her any happier. “The Lunar Court.”
14
“The Lunar Court?” I say with a gasp. “But they’re unseelie.”
Lorelei shrugs. “In this instance, tha
t’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Like I said, there’s a chance any seelie court will turn you in to either King Ustrin or Eisleigh’s council. The radical seelie most certainly will, seeing you as a threat to the treaty. The radical unseelie will do...well, they will do far worse, if they think they can use you to purposefully break the treaty. The neutral unseelie courts, however, are probably the safest for you right now.”
“I take it the Lunar Court is considered neutral unseelie?”
Lorelei nods. “They don’t care about saving the treaty, which means they will have no qualms harboring you. However, they aren’t determined to eradicate humans either.”
“Are there any other neutral unseelie courts?” I try to hide my trepidation with an air of nonchalance. The thought of seeking asylum with Queen Nyxia—a vampire fae—does not sound appealing. Then again, going to any unseelie court seems like a bad idea.
“Lunar and Wind are both neutral unseelie, while Winter and Sea are radical.”
“You think Lunar is the best option?”
She meets my eyes and lowers her voice. “I heard what your mother said about Queen Nessina harboring your grandmother.”
“You think Queen Nyxia has her mother’s sensibilities?”
Lorelei rises to her feet, brushing grass from what remains of her tattered skirt. “I’m not certain, but she’s our best chance right now. Besides, she owes me.” She extends her hand and pulls me to my feet. “Come. The Lunar axis is the next one west of here. If we start walking now, we’ll get there before morning.”
I take a step, surprised to find that my muscles have stopped screaming. “Why does Queen Nyxia owe you?”
She nibbles her bottom lip. “Let’s just say we have a history.”
My curiosity is burning, but I force myself not to pry. If she feels like clarifying, I’m sure she will sooner or later. In the meantime, I can only hope she’s right about her.
All relief I found from rest is washed away after hours of walking. The only thing that keeps me going are my occasional bursts of anger. Each time I feel it rise, I allow it to grow, to burn away my exhaustion, to fuel my healing. That healing is all that keeps me on my feet, prevents me from succumbing to the torturous pain the earth causes my bare feet. I’m still not sure what to think of this newfound power with the element of fire and can’t help wondering what else I might be able to do.
Of course, such thoughts take me down a dark path as blood and smoke and flames fill my mind.
We keep the fog of the faewall within our periphery at all times to help us navigate within the confines of the axis line. It feels like we’ll never find anything but spring grass, sparkling dew, and delicate blossoms. Even in the dark of the night, it’s clear we are traveling through Spring.
Luckily, due to our proximity to the wall, we cross no fellow travelers, save for several rabbits, a doe, and countless squirrels. Whether these creatures are regular animals or fae in their unseelie forms, I do not know. In Faerwyvae, is there even such a thing as a regular animal?
The sun is just beginning to rise, illuminating the early morning, when our scenery finally changes. At first, it’s a shift in the light. The blush of the sunrise dims, throwing our surroundings under a hazy filter. It reminds me of the sky before a lightning storm or the eerie quality of light that falls over everything during a solar eclipse.
Lorelei lets out a sigh of relief. “We made it to Lunar.”
The feeble hope that we can now rest sparks within me, but it’s quickly dashed to bits when Lorelei quickens her pace and shifts direction. With a deep breath, I try to connect to my inner fire and follow her.
We move away from the wall and deeper into the Lunar forest. Even the trees look different here, with tall, slim trunks that disappear high overhead where dark branches in shades of deep indigo and violet mingle with the more familiar browns and greens. Clusters of elegant brambles blanket the forest floor while dark vines of ivy snake up the trees.
There’s no obvious season, just a moderately cool temperature and the smell of night-blooming jasmine. As the sun rises higher, the forest grows somewhat brighter, but the eerie quality of light doesn’t diminish.
We continue on, going deeper and deeper into the forest. It’s quiet, as if most of the creatures here are asleep. In fact, I spot several animals in the midst of slumber. Tiny bats cling to branches, dozing upside-down, wings wrapped around their bodies like blankets. A feline purr rumbles behind a patch of flowers with glowing, bell-like blooms, revealing nothing but two black, pointed ears. Owls doze in the beams overhead, occasionally opening an eye to study us. Surprisingly, a few fully awaken when we pass, launching from their branches to take flight.
“Messengers,” Lorelei says under her breath. “Nyxia will know we’re here.”
I suppress a shudder. “Are we nearing the Lunar palace?”
She nods, the movement revealing the tenseness in her posture. Her eyes are narrowed as she stares into the distance, attention fixated on the path ahead. “We’ve crossed the axis and have been transported about an hour’s walk from the palace.”
My pulse begins to race. While our arrival will mean relief from walking, I feel only trepidation about everything else regarding the visit. Meeting the Lunar Queen, in particular. My only experience with Queen Nyxia was her involvement with Aspen’s challenge for his throne when she acted as mediator between Aspen and Cobalt. Even though she ultimately decided in Aspen’s favor, before that, she’d supported Cobalt’s claim. I’m not sure what to make of her. I swallow hard, preparing to keep my voice level. “Is there anything I should know about Queen Nyxia before we arrive?”
Lorelei seems uncertain of what to say. “She’s very powerful.” Her tone doesn’t reveal whether that’s a good or bad thing.
“Powerful in what way?”
“She’s quite...dominating in both her seelie and unseelie forms.”
I remember how she shifted into a towering shadow with red eyes and terrifying fangs when the fighting began after Cobalt lost. “What exactly is she in her unseelie form? I mean, I’ve surmised she’s a vampire, but what does she become when she’s a shadow?”
“In her unseelie form, she takes the shape of fear and can delve into others’ minds, finding their darkest thoughts and bringing them to the surface. That’s how she feeds. While she can terrify a victim any time of day, she specializes in feeding off nightmares.”
I want to know if she feeds off more than fear—blood, specifically—but I can’t bring myself to ask. What little I’ve heard about vampires always includes some tale of bloodlust and the sinking of fangs into an unwilling victim’s flesh. I rub my neck reflexively.
Lorelei grimaces. “I’ll warn you now that you might have odd dreams while we’re there.”
“That’s comforting.”
She halts, posture rigid as she holds an arm out for me to stop as well. “Someone’s here,” she whispers.
With my thoughts swarming with blood and vampires, I can’t suppress the shiver that crawls up my spine. A sound rustles in the brambles up ahead before a dark shape launches into the trees. I let out a heavy sigh. “A raven.”
Lorelei doesn’t seem nearly as relieved. She turns her gaze to the branches overhead, lips pulling into a frown.
“Well, Lorelei, don’t you look like the wrong end of a centaur.” A low, drawling male voice trickles down from somewhere above us, but I can’t locate its source. Is the raven talking? “And what is with that dress? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in pink. I do like how you’ve decorated it, though.”
My eyes move to the blood staining Lorelei’s torso, then to the layer of grime coating my corset and makeshift skirt.
Lorelei crosses her arms and bumps her hips to the side. “Did Nyxia send her dog?”
I hear a gasp. “Now that’s plain rude.”
“Rude? You just called me the wrong end of a centaur.”
“But I
don’t even like dogs.”
“And I like centaurs?”
A dark shape falls to the ground. As it lands, shadows unfurl, revealing a male figure. His frame is lean and tall, skin pale, eyes the most shocking shade of silver-blue above chiseled cheekbones flushed the palest rose. His hair is a silver blond that falls in silken wisps past his pointed ears. He wears a black silk waistcoat and trousers, both patterned with silver threaded designs, but he wears no jacket. His white shirt is unbuttoned at the neck, free of cravat or tie. There’s something frighteningly seductive about his state of dress.
He leans against the trunk of the tree behind him, posture casual as he waves a hand toward Lorelei. “You have that...earthen magic. You’re practically related to a centaur.”
Lorelei scowls. “I’m a wood nymph, and you are clearly trying to get on my nerves.”
He tilts his head, lips pulling into a sultry smile. “I didn’t realize I had to try so hard.”
She rolls her eyes. “Is your sister at the palace?”
“Why, is she back in your good graces? Come to rekindle that spark?”
“There’s no spark, but I seek an audience with her. You’ll take us to her.”
His eyes fall on me for the first time, assessing me from head to toe. “Us? Is this your new plaything? I thought your heart was truer than that. Darling Malan has hardly been dead for—”
Lorelei lifts her hand, and a pointed root erupts from the earth at the fae male’s feet. He can hardly flinch before it rises and hovers an inch from his throat, the sharp tip vibrating as if it begs to dart forward and sink into the fae’s flesh. “Don’t you dare speak of Malan or so much as utter a word about me being untrue to her memory. If anyone knows about being untrue, it’s your sister.”
To Wear a Fae Crown (The Fair Isle Trilogy Book 2) Page 10
