One of Prince Devyn’s slaves led me to “my room,” where he left me in privacy to change into the outfit laid out for me.
The room itself was full of nature, with flowery vines growing down from the ceiling and along the walls. Otherwise, it was simply decorated with a single bed, nightstand, vanity, chair, and wardrobe. There were fresh rose petals laid out on the bed and a vase of flowers on the nightstand, as if they’d been expecting me.
Once I was alone, I searched for a way to escape. There was a big window off to the side, looking out to a field of daisies. I wasn’t sure where I’d go in the field, but anywhere was better than being trapped with my biological faerie father who’d just kidnapped me.
If he wanted to get to know me, he could have done it in a civil way. A way I’d consented to. But kidnapping? I didn’t care if he was related to me or not. That was not okay.
I ran to the window to unlatch it, but it was sealed shut. So I clawed at it harder. No matter how hard I tried to open it, the window wouldn’t budge.
I lifted the chair next to the vanity and was about to try bashing it through the glass when Prince Devyn’s voice rang through the door.
“The window is spelled,” he said, loud enough for me to hear. “It shows an illusion instead of the city streets below. And you can’t break through it. So please, put the chair down, Selena.”
I spun to face the closed door, still holding tightly onto the chair. “You can see me?” I asked, looking around for cameras. There were none in plain sight, but that didn’t mean they weren’t hidden. I’d learned enough from the technology expert on Avalon—Thomas—to know that.
“No,” he said. “And yes.”
“What does that even mean?” How could the answer be no and yes? Faeries couldn’t lie. But one of those had to be a lie. Right?
“I’ll explain at breakfast,” he said. “But please, put the chair down and change into the dress laid out for you. Leave your current garb on the trunk at the end of the bed. The servants will take care of it. I’ll see you in the dining room in a few minutes.”
I heard his footsteps as he walked away, leaving me still holding onto the chair and wondering what kind of mess I’d been dragged into.
The outfit was a cloth, strappy maxi dress in a purple that matched my eyes. While it fit perfectly—as if tailor-made for me—it was impractical and totally unlike anything we wore on Avalon.
But when I looked at myself in the mirror, my reflection surprised me. Not because the dress looked good on me, which I had to admit, it did. But because my eyes looked brighter here, my skin more radiant, and my hair shinier. As if there were an otherworldly glow around me.
Goosebumps prickled on my arms at the reminder that I was half fae. It didn’t feel real. None of this did. It felt like I was in some strange dream and that I’d wake up at any moment.
But since I was here, I wanted answers. Specifically, I wanted to know what kind of magic I could do as a fae—if I could do any at all.
Prince Devyn seemed willing to give me those answers. So it made sense to go out there, be as civil as possible, and talk to him.
I left Torrence’s clothes on the trunk, like Prince Devyn had instructed, and ran my hand over the black top. It was too big on me in my true form, but the clothes reminded me of Torrence. They reminded me of home. I didn’t want them taken away.
So I opened the wardrobe. It was full of dresses similar to this one. I placed the wet clothes on the bottom of the wardrobe, behind a lineup of colorful ballet flats.
Hopefully the clothes would still be there later.
Then I took another look at my reflection, took a deep breath, and headed out the door.
11
Selena
The guard waited outside my door and led me to the dining room.
Prince Devyn reclined on a chaise lounge in front of a table covered with an overflowing feast of fruits, meats, and cheeses. His shimmery wings cast a bright green glow behind him, and the tips of his ears poked out behind his shoulder-length hair.
“Selena.” He looked me over approvingly and motioned to the lounge next to his. “Join me.”
I was used to dining while sitting in a chair. But Prince Devyn reclined on his side, his forearm propped up on a pillow. So I walked over and situated myself in a similar position. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it felt strange. Especially because like Prince Devyn, I had my feet propped on the lounge as well.
He reached for his goblet and held it up. “I’m sure you have many questions, and we’ll get to those in a moment,” he said. “But first, a toast. Welcome to the Otherworld.”
I reached for my goblet, trying to keep my hand from shaking. I couldn’t say thank you, since according to legends, those words bound a person to a favor with the fae. I wasn’t sure if the legend was true, but it was best not to risk it.
“I look forward to learning more about the Otherworld,” I said, since it wasn’t a lie. Then I raised my glass, and he clinked his with mine.
I took a quick sip of my drink, nearly spitting it out when sweet, honeyed wine hit my tongue.
“Is there a problem?” Prince Devyn raised an eyebrow in amusement.
I swallowed down the sweet wine. “You drink wine at breakfast?”
“Of course,” he said. “But don’t worry—it’s not as strong as wine on Earth. You’ll have to consume a lot more of it to feel its effects.”
I frowned, since the conversation I was about to have with him was important. It wasn’t in my best interest to get drunk, even if the wine was as weak as he claimed. “On Avalon, we only drink wine for special occasions, and only in the evenings,” I said. “May I please have some water?”
“Absolutely not.” He scoffed. “Water is for half-bloods. While you’re technically a half-blood, you’re also the daughter of a faerie prince and a witch. It’s a combination that has never been seen before. So you’ll be treated better than an average half-blood, and you will have wine.”
From the snobby way he spoke, it was clear the request was not up for debate. Fine by me. I’d just drink as little wine as possible.
I wasn’t going to waste my time fighting him for water when I could be getting what I really needed—information.
“Very well.” I nodded and lifted the glass to sip from it again. I let the sweet liquid brush my lips, although I only pretended to drink.
“Octavius. Seneca,” Devyn said, looking to the slaves standing at the door. “Please leave my daughter and I to dine in private.”
The two men bowed their heads in tandem and saw themselves out, closing the door behind them.
Devyn reached for a bunch of grapes, plucked one from it, and popped it in his mouth. “I’m sure you have many questions,” he said, watching me curiously.
That was the understatement of the century.
I wasn’t that hungry, since I’d just had dinner and dessert. But I reached for a bit of cheese and chewed on it as I wracked my mind to figure out where to start. “You say you’re my father,” I said after swallowing the cheese. “But why didn’t I know about you until now?”
“That wasn’t my decision.” He looked at me sadly. “I wanted you to live here with me. It was part of the agreement I made with your mother.”
“Agreement?” The word tasted so sour on my tongue that I took a tiny sip of the honeyed wine to wash it away.
“Almost seventeen years ago, Camelia Conrad sought me out to make a bargain,” he said. “She agreed to two things. Firstly, to give me her first-born child. Secondly, to let me take her virginity. The latter resulted in your conception.”
“You knew.” Something about the confident way he spoke made me sure of it. “You knew that by taking her virginity that night, you’d get her pregnant.”
“I did.”
“But how—”
“More on that later,” he cut me off. “Because according to the deal, I was supposed to have you as well. But your mother hid you away on Avalon, knowing it was th
e only place on Earth my kind couldn’t track you or contact you. As you know, she died shortly after giving birth to you. What you don’t know is that before handing you over to the care of your adoptive parents, she forced them to enter into a blood oath. She made them promise they’d never tell you of your fae heritage, and never allow you to leave Avalon.”
My head spun as I took in the information. What he’d just told me was a huge relief. My parents were the most honest, loving people I knew. Of course they wouldn’t have kept something so huge from me of their own free will.
“But my birth mother was dying,” I said. “Why would my parents agree to the blood oath?”
“Camelia was holding you,” he said. “She threatened to take your life if they didn’t agree to the oath.”
I shuddered at the awfulness of what he’d said. I knew my birth mother had done terrible things. But until now, I hadn’t known she’d stoop to that.
If I wasn’t hungry before, I certainly wasn’t hungry now. I placed the remainder of the piece of cheese on the plate in front of me.
“Then Camelia used her Final Spell to bind your faerie magic,” he said. “To hide it from others and make it impossible for you to access.”
In that moment, everything made a surprising amount of sense. “My magic,” I repeated, feeling it crackle inside of me and flare to life as I spoke of it, like a storm within me. I looked at my hand, as if I could will it to the surface. But as always, nothing happened. “It’s real.”
“Of course it’s real,” he said, as if I were crazy for thinking otherwise. “Your magic is woven into your soul. Even your mother couldn’t take it away from you. But it’s repressed. Bound. Even though it’s in you, you can’t utilize it.”
“Can you unbind it?” Hope knotted in my chest, and I held my breath in anticipation.
If Prince Devyn could unbind my magic, then perhaps being brought here wasn’t such a terrible thing, after all.
“No,” he said, and my hope deflated.
“Why not?” I asked. “Isn’t fae magic stronger than witch magic?”
“It’s much stronger,” he said. “But not even a fae can reverse a witch’s Final Spell.”
“How do you know?” I asked. “Can’t you just try?”
“It won’t work.”
As if I’d accept defeat that easily. “You can’t know that.”
“Yes, I can,” he said. “I know every possible outcome of every possible situation. Because I—like all royal fae—have a special gift. And my gift is omniscient sight.”
12
Selena
“So you can see the future?”
A prophetess lived on Avalon—a gifted vampire named Skylar Danvers. She saw the future in tarot cards. So this wasn’t something I was unfamiliar with.
“I don’t just see the future,” he said. “I see all futures.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know a prophetess from Avalon,” he said. “Skylar Danvers.”
I blinked, stunned. “Did you just read my mind?”
“No.” He chuckled. “I’m not telepathic.”
“Then how did you know I was thinking about her?”
“That was luck,” he said. “It was highly probable that you’d think of the prophetess you know at the mention of my gift.”
I nodded, since it made sense. “Yes,” I said, wanting to get back to the point. “I know Skylar.”
“She can see the most likely future at that point in time,” he said. “But that’s all she sees when she looks into her tarot cards. One future. The one most likely to happen. That one future can change, so it’s not a given that what she sees in the cards will play out in reality. But my gift—omniscient sight—allows me to see more than just one future. I can see all futures. Every possible one of them. A complicated, interwoven web, with some strands stronger and more likely to occur than others.”
“Wow,” I said. “That must be… confusing.”
“It can be.” He gave me a pained smile. “Oftentimes, my ability is more of a curse than a gift. Knowing every possible way the future can pan out tends to take the joy out of living.” He sounded so sad, and for a split second, I felt bad for him.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and then I chewed on a fig, at a loss for what else to say.
“Don’t be,” he said. “I do my best to use my gift for good. Although I learned centuries ago that sharing what I see with others leads to anxiety regarding bad scenarios, and unwanted changes in good scenarios that then change them into bad scenarios. So I almost always keep what I see to myself. But I promise you, Selena, there’s no possible future in which I’m able to remove the binding spell your birth mother placed on you. Trying would only lead to wasted time and disappointment.”
“You can’t remove the binding spell,” I said, remembering to pay attention to the nuances of what he said. While faeries couldn’t lie, they were talented at talking around the truth. “But is there another fae that can?”
“Your mother’s Final Spell was strong,” he said. “No fae can remove it.”
“So why bring me here at all?” I asked. “I have no witch magic, and I can’t access my fae magic. I’m useless.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong,” he said. “You’re far from useless.”
“So there’s a reason you brought me here.” I figured there had to be, given his omniscient sight. He hadn’t gone to this much trouble to kidnap me so I could scrub floors and toilets, or whatever the half-blood slaves did around here.
Or maybe he had. Maybe he just wanted to finish the deal he’d made with my birth mother all those years ago.
“You look troubled,” he observed. “What’s on your mind?”
“Shouldn’t you already know that?” I was goading him. But I didn’t care.
“Like I said, I’m not telepathic.” He popped another grape into his mouth and watched me patiently. From his relaxed manner, it seemed like he’d wait all day.
So I might as well be out with it.
“You didn’t bring me here to be a slave, right? Because I’m not exactly slave material.” That was an understatement, given the way I’d been raised. “You’ll get a far better deal going to my parents and making a bargain with them in exchange for my safe passage back to Avalon.”
“First of all, the half-bloods aren’t slaves,” he said. “They’re servants.”
“What’s the difference?” Both sounded bad to me.
“Servants are paid. Slaves are not.”
“Oh,” I said, since he was right. Being a slave sounded worse than a servant. Although I had a feeling from the few servants I’d seen that they weren’t paid much.
“I didn’t bring you here to be a servant,” he said. “You’re far more important than that.” He leaned forward, a chilling glint in his eyes as he fixated his violet gaze on mine. “I brought you here to nominate you to play in this year’s Faerie Games.”
13
Selena
He spoke of the Faerie Games like it was supposed to mean something to me.
It didn’t.
“What are the Faerie Games?” I asked once it became apparent that he was waiting for me to speak next.
“Just something us fae do every year,” he said casually. “To entertain ourselves and the gods.”
My magic crackled, like a warning. “Which gods?” I asked, leaning closer to the edge of my lounge. I’d learned enough in school to know he could be talking about any variety of gods. They all existed, in some way or another. Although they rarely—if ever—showed themselves.
“The only ones that matter,” he said. “At least, the only ones that matter here in the Otherworld, where they’ve reigned for over fifteen hundred years. The Roman gods.”
“Whoa.” I didn’t know what I’d been expecting, but it certainly hadn’t been that. “You mean Zeus and Poseidon and Hades and all of them?”
“Those are the Greek gods.” He made a face, as if the mix-up appalled him. �
�At least, that’s what the Greeks called them. In the Otherworld, we pay homage to the greatest civilization to ever live on Earth—the Roman Empire. We refer to the gods by their true Roman names. The ones you mentioned are Jupiter, Neptune, and Pluto, in that order.”
“Right,” I said, remembering this from Ancient Magical History 101. “Same gods, different names. Got it.”
“They’re not the same gods.” Again, Prince Devyn looked at me as if what I’d said was highly offensive. “The Roman gods are stronger, smarter, and more focused than their Greek counterparts. They’re worthy of being worshipped by the greatest civilization to ever live on Earth. But after the Roman Empire fell—since all human civilizations eventually fall, even the most powerful ones—the gods relocated to the only other place where they were still appreciated and worshipped. The Otherworld.”
“The gods are actually here?” I asked. “The fae have interacted with them?”
“They’re actually here,” he said. “But they mostly keep to themselves. The one time a year we interact with them is during the Faerie Games. Three of them actively show themselves during the Games. Bacchus, the god of wine and celebrations, hosts the Games. Vesta, the goddess of the home, lives in the villa with the players to watch over and help them. And Juno, the queen of the gods, makes the rules and crowns the winner.”
“What about the other gods?” I asked.
“The eleven most powerful gods in the pantheon can pick a half-blood player to represent them in the Games,” he said. “Although they only choose a player if they feel one of the nominees is worthy to represent them. Otherwise, they’ll sit out. Usually six to eight players are chosen each year.”
“And you want to nominate me to be one of those players.”
“Yes.” His eyes gleamed. “Every year, each faerie prince and princess can nominate one player for the Games. If selected for the Games, the half-blood nominee is gifted with magic from the god that chose them. It’s a great honor to be chosen to represent a god in the Games.”
The Faerie Games Page 4
