by Jasmine Walt
I let her take my hands, and the power humming beneath her skin nearly knocked me back. Her smile curved a little wider, and I knew she was testing me, so I only smiled back in return. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sorana.”
“Your father has been very excited ever since he learned you would be returning, so I had to come out and meet you myself,” Sorana said. I noticed she hadn’t returned my sentiment—the fae couldn’t lie, so she couldn’t tell me she was happy to see me if she wasn’t. And though she smiled, her dark eyes had cooled, nowhere near as warm as they’d been when she’d greeted my father. “I look forward to learning more about you.”
So do I, I thought as Sorana and my father led me into the glittering ice palace. It was unsettling to be surrounded by people who seemed to know more about me than I did, and the sooner I fixed that, the better.
Chapter 11
My first day in the Winter King’s castle was a whirlwind of activity. I was shown to my rooms, an opulent suite that was way too extravagant compared to what I was used to, and yet, like much of the castle, strangely familiar. A hot bowl of stew and an hour’s nap were all I got to myself before a slew of maids descended upon me, scrubbing me to within an inch of my life before stuffing me in a glittering blue gown that reminded me entirely too much of Frozen’s Elsa.
Then again, how many people got to hang out in a Faerie castle dressed as a Disney princess? There were definitely those out there who would consider me extremely lucky.
After I’d been properly dressed and coiffed, Oscar had shown up at my door to escort me to the great hall for a grand feast celebrating my return. I’d sat up at the high table with my father, his consort, and Oscar, eating biscuits with a sparkling blue jam that tasted like a mix of strawberries and limes and drinking a thick, creamy milk that had a glittering, pearly sheen and tasted sweeter than any I’d ever had back home.
Every food placed on the table was somehow familiar and strange all at once: griffin scales served like caviar, minotaur stew, roasted cockatrice. The vegetables came in deep, rich shades of blue, red, and purple, the bread was so airy it nearly dissolved on my tongue, and the cheeses were flecked with a shimmering orange substance that gave it a bittersweet tang.
The strange food broke the monotony of long speeches, though by time I was finished eating, I was too full to engage in the hours of dancing that followed. Instead, I sat and spoke with members of the clan. Names and faces blurred in my mind as I was introduced—or rather, re-introduced—to people I’d lived and grown up with over a thousand years ago.
Thankfully, bits and flashes of memories would sometimes pop up when someone would introduce themselves to me, making it a bit easier. There were women here who I’d played with as little girls and men who I’d been out hunting with in the past—but that was maybe a quarter of the people here. There were over five hundred Unseelie fae packed within the great hall tonight, the entirety of the clan, and although most of them had likely been around in my past life, that didn’t mean I’d spent much time with them. I was the princess, after all, not a commoner. And besides that, I’d also been a shadow. There were many here who viewed me with well-veiled contempt, clearly of the opinion that I didn’t belong.
“You are very lucky your father’s people are so accepting of you,” Sorana murmured to me later in the evening, when I’d returned to the high table for a break from the incessant dancing and conversation. “Many other clan chieftains would have kept you in hiding, since you are not full fae. But your father’s people love him greatly, and they extend that love to you as well despite your mixed heritage.”
I went to bed after the feast thinking about that. How many other shadows existed, aside from myself? And were they kept hidden away by their fae parent, as Sorana had suggested I would have been had my father not been a loving one? I knew the fae would never cast a shadow away—our unique powers were too valuable. But what if I’d been half human instead of half witch? Would I have grown up in the human world with no contact from my father? Would he have cared enough to have a hand in my raising anyway?
My first night of sleep in the castle was restless, full of foggy memory-dreams. Most of them came and went quickly, their gossamer strands too fragile to hold onto, but there were flashes that stuck with me, of war skirmishes with the Seelie, of alliances with supernaturals in the human world, of being chained in a rank dungeon beneath a Seelie fortress as I waited for my execution.
Those dreams were abruptly shattered by a knock at the door. “Princess?” one of the maids from last night called, letting herself in. “It is time to wake up. Your father wants you in the training room in one hour.”
“The training room?” I sat up, rubbing sleep from my eyes.
“I’ll get your outfit ready while you eat.” She set a heavy wooden tray over my lap. It was piled high with food, and my stomach rumbled, awoken by the delicious scents. The prospect of food and training brushed the cobwebs from my brain, and I ate and bathed quickly.
My training outfit was a shimmering grey tunic made from a soft material that was stretchy yet durable. With it came a pair of black, knee-high boots, and a matching black leather belt. It felt a little odd, like I was doing some weird fantasy cosplay, but the outfit was comfortable, so I went with it. The maid pulled my silver hair back into a simple bun, a far cry from the elaborate curls she’d styled yesterday, then pronounced me fit to leave my rooms.
“Wow,” Oscar said when I stepped out. He was waiting for me, dressed in a similar outfit, except he had a sword and scabbard hanging at his hip. “It’s been too long since I’ve last seen you like that.”
I gave him an awkward smile—I wasn’t used to seeing so much admiration in his eyes when he looked at me. “Do I really look exactly the same as I did in my past life?” I asked.
“Pretty much,” Oscar confirmed as we walked down the hall. “You lack the sly, crafty nature you developed over hundreds of years of experience, but I’m sure you’ll get that back eventually. You are a fae, after all,” he added with a grin.
“Yeah,” I said, holding back a sigh. I just wished I felt more like one.
As we walked, I tried not to get distracted by the paintings hanging on the walls between the ornate light sconces—even when I saw one that looked eerily like it might be me. There would be time to explore later. I kept my gaze ahead, a little more energy in my step than usual as I followed the deep purple carpeted runway that created a flowing path over the castle’s icy stone floors.
The training room turned out to be a utilitarian, rectangular space with magical wards set into it to prevent any spells gone awry from leaving the room. Various weapons and training tools hung on the walls, and the floor was covered in thick mats.
“Good morning,” my father said as we entered. His antler crown was gone, leaving his thick silver mane of hair unadorned, and his clothes matched ours. “Did you sleep well, Riona?”
It took a second for me to realize he was talking to me—I still wasn’t used to being addressed by my old name. “I did,” I said. “That bed is pretty comfortable for having a five-hundred-year-old mattress.”
The Winter King laughed. “We got you fresh bedding when we heard you were returning,” he said, his eyes shining. “Only the best for my daughter.”
“Oh. Well, I appreciate it.” I smiled, a little flustered at the show of affection. I’d been fatherless for so long I wasn’t really sure how to react. “So, what kind of training are we going to do today?”
“We’re going to start by testing out what you do know, so we may determine what you’ve still yet to re-learn.” He and Oscar exchanged a look. “We think you are going to like this first test.”
“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow at the identical grins on their faces. “What kind of test are we talking about?”
“A scavenger hunt,” Oscar told me. “But of a magical nature, specifically.”
“You’re going to give me a list of clues?”
“Sort of. You’re go
ing to be finding the objects by sensing their power.”
“And how am I going to do that?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. “In case you haven’t noticed, there are magical objects everywhere in this place.” My magic-sense had gone haywire ever since I set foot inside the castle, to the point where I’d tuned it down to a low hum to avoid going insane.
“Not all magical items have the same amount of power,” my father told me. He lifted a hand, and a heavy wooden chest floated over to us from where it had been sitting in the corner. Turning up my magic-sense, I was instantly hit by a huge wave of power, and my eyes widened. Whatever was in that chest was extremely powerful.
The chest settled on the padded floor with barely a whisper of sound, and my father opened it with another flick of his hand. “There are five magical objects inside this chest,” he continued, using magic to lift each one from the container and set it on the mats. “Tune in with your senses. What do you notice about each?”
Frowning, I did as he said. There was a silver cuff, a necklace of iridescent gemstones, a short sword, a shield, and a simple gold ring. My magic-sight flicked on as I focused. Surrounding each, that strange green glow that denoted magical power pulsed.
“Huh,” I said, my eyes widening. “Each one has a different amount of glow.” The short sword had only the faintest glimmer, whereas the silver cuff sparkled brightly. And the gold ring blazed like a tiny sun. “This one is the most powerful,” I said, pointing at the ring.
“Very good,” my father said. He waved his hand, and the objects re-arranged themselves by power level. “When it comes to magical objects, most can be categorized on a level from one through five. The sword is a level one,” he said, pointing to it, “while the ring is a level five, and the others are in between. Take a moment to familiarize yourself with how each level feels. These particular objects will not harm you if you touch them, so feel free to pick them up.”
I did as he said, lifting each object in my hands so I could get a real sense of them. All five hummed with power, but like my father said, they were all different levels. I could see the level of power with my eyes, but I found if I closed my eyes and simply used my magic-sense, I could feel it too.
“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” I finally said, putting the last object down.
“Excellent.” My father waved his hand, and all five objects disappeared. “Now go find them.”
“What?” I jumped to my feet. “Where?”
Oscar spread his hands wide, grinning. “Throughout the entire castle. World’s your oyster, kid. Just stick to the inside of the building—we’re not going to make you hunt through the snow.”
“Gee, thanks.” Shaking my head, I headed for the door. “Scavenger hunt, my ass. This is a wild goose chase!”
Laughter chased me out the door, and I rolled my eyes. I bet they thought I was going to be out here for hours, striking out time and time again until I found the right objects. Little did they know, they were so wrong. Because I’d just discovered something really cool.
Closing my eyes, I summoned up the memory of the short sword in my mind. Not just how it looked, but also how it felt. I’d noticed something interesting when I’d examined all five objects—not only did they have different power levels, but they all had a unique signature that had nothing to do with level of power. The sword was a level-one object, but if I was put in a room filled with level-one objects, blindfolded, I had a feeling I would be able to go straight to it. None of the other level ones would feel quite like this one did. And I was banking on that to cut down on my search time.
Opening my eyes again, I turned up the volume on my magic-sense by about half. Instantly, I was hit by a wave of magic, singing and humming through my veins, but I forced myself to stand my ground, to not be overwhelmed, then started sifting through it. Gradually, I was able to separate the waves of power by magical signature, and latch onto individual ones to see which direction they were coming from.
Unfortunately, I was unable to sense the sword from my position. But I could sense one—the ring. It was so powerful I imagined I could feel it from anywhere in the castle, and I latched onto its signature and began walking down the hall. It took me down two flights of stairs, through three separate hallways connected by two different rooms, before I finally found myself standing outside the door to a guest bedroom.
“Oh, yeah,” I said, turning the doorknob. The glow was coming through the doorway, the power humming so strongly I was practically being pulled.
I opened the door, and sure enough, the ring was sitting on a little vanity table. I picked it up, then quickly shaded it to dim its power so it wouldn’t distract me while I was carrying it. I would still be able to sense it, but while the object was shaded, it wouldn’t be throwing out huge waves of power.
With the ring tucked into my pocket, I quickly found the rest of the objects. The short sword, predictably, was in the armory. But if not for my new trick, it would have taken me forever to locate it, because the weapons inside were imbued with some level of magic. The fancy necklace was hiding in the kitchen pantry, much to the chef’s consternation.
The shield took a little longer to find—its magical signature was a three, and it was too far away from the kitchen for me to sense. I wandered through the castle for a good twenty minutes before I was finally able to pick up on its signature, and even then, it was faint. I followed it intently, shutting everything out, and the further I walked, the colder and dimmer the castle seemed to get. I appeared to be moving away from the more inhabited spaces and into a dusty cold wing that sent shivers down my spine.
Finally, I appeared at a heavy metal door that looked as if it needed a sturdy key to open it. I touched the handle and was immediately assaulted by a vision of an unkempt, furious-looking Seelie fae being dragged through the door in chains by two of my father’s guards. His clothing was torn, his long hair was matted, and his beautiful face was smeared with dirt and more blood as it twisted into a ferocious snarl.
I could sense the fear and rage rolling off him as he thrashed and kicked, but he was weakened, and no match for the guards. They hauled him through the door and down the dark, stairs, and the heavy metal door slammed shut behind them with an awful finality.
A dungeon, I thought as the vision faded away.
Goose bumps broke out along my skin, but I pushed the fear away. The door had partially swung open the moment I’d touched it, and I needed to go down there if I was to finish the hunt. Squaring my shoulders, I opened the door the rest of the way and descended the dark staircase. There was a flaming torch hanging on the wall, and I grabbed it to help light the way, but even so, it was still hard to see.
I was definitely on the right track, though. The magical signature was growing stronger with every step. That shield was down here somewhere; I just knew it.
My feet rasped against the stone floor as I finally made it all the way down, and I held the torch aloft. There were other torches down here, already lit, and they illuminated the rows of wooden cells to my left. No iron or steel here—the fae would never allow such poisonous metal to exist inside these halls. But the cells all glowed with power, and I knew they had wards set into them to keep prisoners from being able to escape.
The shield was in the cell at the end of the dungeon, and I made my way there carefully, doing my best not to touch anything so I didn’t get hit with more visions. But even without the use of my hands, I could sense the despair and anger in this place. There were no prisoners currently trapped down here, but the ones who had been here before had left an emotional imprint behind. There was a lot of pain and anger in this place.
Finally, I reached the cell at the end of the hall. The shield sat on the hard cot in the corner, beckoning me with its bright glow. Steeling myself, I grasped the cell door, prepared to be hit by another vision.
And I was not disappointed.
“I’ll never tell you!” the same Seelie fae from my earlier vision snarled. He was standi
ng in the middle of the cell, still clad in heavy chains, and looked thinner and more exhausted than when I’d last seen him. “You can keep me in this cell and keep draining all my magic until I’m dead, for all I care. I will never betray our queen.”
“Your magic is an excellent plus,” a voice said from beyond the bars, and I started. It was my father. “It’s been very nice, using it to keep the castle warm. But draining you is the least of your worries. I have many other methods of persuasion.”
There was a loud crack, and horror spilled through me as the fae’s leg suddenly twisted at a very wrong angle. His scream of agony sent a chill through my spine, and bile rose in my mouth as I watched him crash to the ground.
“This is…an abomination…” He gasped, clutching the hay on the ground tightly. His lips were blue with cold, I suddenly realized—it was freezing down in these dungeons, hardly a hospital environment for a Seelie fae. I remembered how much Maddock had bitched about the cold. “Using witch magic…to weaken your enemies…”
“The perk of having a daughter like mine,” the Winter King said coldly. “Now tell me…”
I yanked myself out of the vision so fast I gave myself an instant headache. Reeling, I braced myself against the icy wall behind me, trying to make sense of what I’d just heard. The cells here were capable of draining a fae of their power? And they used my magic to do so? How? I was fully aware of my own capacity to drain someone of their magic, but I didn’t know I could use spells to do it in other ways.
“Jesus,” I muttered, shaking some of the lingering horror off. I had a lot to learn about myself, but this seemed beyond what I’d imagined. And yes, I was aware that even though my father treated me kindly, he wasn’t a fluffy bunny. There was no way he could have once been the Unseelie king otherwise. Even so, watching him torture another fae was unsettling. And the fact that he’d been using my magic…
