Momentarily, she paused. “Something isn’t adding up,” she said finally, earning Riven’s undivided attention. “The memories of the people who return are erased, except for Shaw and his sailors, and presumably the other half-breeds…”
The king nodded. “Right.”
“And except for Shaw’s biological mother who came to the human lands by accident.” The silver-haired man had no answer to her statement, so Tanith went on. “And she told the person she was staying with everything. Maybe even King Bristowe and Queen Jarla knew what she really was, which means some servants and trusted friends probably did too. That means that some, either a very select few or more people than we realize, are actually aware of what waits on this island. Did you ever think of that? We even know that Shaw’s mother wasn’t the only fae who slipped out under your nose and took up with humans since there are other half-breeds.”
Ardeen glanced between Uhri and the king, blinking as she followed her friend’s thought process. “She’s right. There’s more to all this, isn’t there?”
Riven nodded slowly, releasing a heavy sigh. “There’s more to every story. How do you think the origin of the Crish and the Sight started in your lands?”
Tanith shrugged. “I don’t know. To make an excuse for the sins of humanity, like you said.”
“In part,” he agreed. “But that isn’t all. Rumors of immortal creatures integrating with your kind have died down over the centuries, but they used to be an epidemic. There were rising religions based on the tales of fae departing from the island to save their mortal brothers and sisters. Eventually, word reached the royals, and they believed the rumors were a threat to the monarchy. The idea of the Crish originated with Glendarem, one of your fallen kingdoms. The ruler… he proposed the idea in a meeting with the other kings, and together, they made a scheme.”
Tanith couldn’t help but frown. Her ancestors would have been a part of it, which meant word must have passed down through the generations. She wondered if the truth had been lost long ago, or if the current rulers were very much aware. Surely her mother couldn’t have looked Penelope Greenwixch, the woman from welcoming night in the eye, and allowed her to be sentenced to death if she’d known the truth.
“What scheme?” Ardeen wondered, tone wary.
Riven seemed displeased. “They knew of the Light, and they wanted its power, but it wasn’t enough that they, as royals, could obtain it. They wanted to continue to rule rather than conform under my great-great grandfather’s reign. They wanted their people to be immortal as well so that they could continue to sit on their thrones for millennia to come. So, they made their plan. They started the rumor of the Crish, scaring the people into obedience during their time of disorder and rebellion. Anyone who stepped out of line was said to be infected, and the royals were more than willing to do away with any threats to their power. From thereon, they collectively agreed to train their firstborn children to penetrate the island when it appeared every two hundred years, telling them it was to save their people and bring home a cure. In truth, they’ve used you as pawns to steal immortality from the fae. It’s only ever been their goal for you to secure their everlasting rule, despite the Ghods original wishes.”
Tanith’s hands began to shake beneath the table, lies, and betrayal swirling through her mind. She wondered if any of it was real. Anything she’d been told in her training as they prepared to send her off. Had they known she wouldn’t die? Had they known of what truly waited on the island—not illusions, but truth?
“Do they know? Our parents. Were they ever told, or was the plot lost to the generations of royals too?” She had to ask. Had to know.
Riven’s face gave her no hints. “I can’t tell you that.”
“But you know?”
He nodded once. “I do, but this is something you’ll have to learn for yourself.”
Dozens of firstborns he’d dealt with before her. He knew how their minds worked. He knew they doubted his every intention, hanging off every carefully crafted word as though waiting to pounce on a lie. Even if she doubted everything else that he’d told her, he wanted her to find this out for herself. He wanted her to know the truth from her mother’s mouth.
“Does this mean you’ll let me go home to ask?”
He shook his head, standing and holding out his hand. “No. I have other ways for you to get your answers.”
Ardeen and Uhri seemed suddenly interested in their food, but Tanith’s appetite was destroyed, so she took the king’s hand and let him lead her out of the dining room, somewhere where she had no doubt that more hard truths would be waiting.
CHAPTER 17
The library was a stunning picture with spirals of books wrapping around the oval walls several stories tall. Tanith didn’t have time to pour herself into the raw beauty of it though, because Riven was walking so obnoxiously fast up the stairs that she was surprised his silver crown hadn’t flown off his head.
She saw the path reached so far up that it ended somewhere near the dome ceiling, paintings of the fae decorating it as the orange sun began to set outside the windows, casting a heavenly glow upon the art.
“The historians aren’t usually here so late,” he explained as he moved, making Tanith have to jog to keep up with him. “I’ll have to introduce you to them another time.”
“And where are we going exactly?” she wondered as they passed thousands of books, just waiting for her to open them and appreciate the knowledge they held.
He glanced over his shoulder, quirking his mouth upwards. “You’ll see.”
She lost count of the steps, but there must have been at least a thousand because she was sweating and panting by the time they reached the top. If she had any breath left to take away, the sight of the floor beneath the dome would have done just that.
She thought it was part of the design from so far down, but now she could see the hole in the middle of the landing was covered in a net, the kind that someone could lay upon and stare at the art above. The windows around the edges of the wide platform provided an aerial view, the ocean on one side and the city in the distance on the other with a small forest of trees between each destination. The land stretched farther than she could see, the volcano peaking at her from the southeast.
The floor itself had two desks on opposite sides of the circle, ottomans, pillows, and chairs decorating the space between, but only one of them was filled.
A short, tubby man with stringy dark hair a nose as sharp as his ears sat hunched in his chair next to a brass telescope, his eyes tracking a metronome as it ticked back and forth in front of him, his pale, bony finger tapping his leg in tandem. His desk was messy as opposed to the opposite one with neatly stacked papers under a glass cube, an oddly large paperweight in Tanith’s opinion.
“Leevi, this is—”
“Tanith Estiellon,” the old man cut in, looking up as though thoroughly unimpressed with her. “I know.”
Riven wasn’t the least bit surprised by the interruption. “Tanith, Leevi is what we call a Seeker. His unique gift is one of divine sight, and he’s kind enough to share it with us. Whatever answers you seek, it’s his job to find.”
“So you keep reminding me,” Leevi muttered in displeasure before brushing off his mood. He reached out and grabbed both of Tanith’s hands, taking her by surprise. His green eyes scanned hers intensely for a moment, eliciting a shiver down her spine as she studied him right back. She hadn’t seen a fae as old as him before. Not even in the city. In human years, he would have been nearing his mid-sixties, so she wondered how old he really was. Still, he had a surprisingly strong grip for his age, obviously thanks to his fae genes.
“The princess has rage,” he noted in surprise, “fueled by betrayal.” Leevi glanced at Riven. “Are you certain she should see?”
The king nodded, glancing at her only once more as though he too could see what the seeker spoke of. “Show her.”
With a sigh, Leevi let her go and stood, trotting over to the
other desk and picking up the glass cube. He returned, shoving the surprisingly light object into Tanith’s hands and placing three fingers on the side closest to him.
“Think of where you want to go,” he told her, brows furrowing in concentration. “Think of who you want to see, and I will find what you need to know.”
She closed her eyes only for him to snap his other fingers in her face. “Eyes open. Concentrate on the reflective glass.”
Nodding, she was aware of Riven shifting beside her, his hand at the small of her back as he too sought the knowledge of truth. She let her eyes bore into the top of the cube, imagined her mother’s face. Their home. She thought of the sight of Ellesmere from her bedroom window, the colors bright and entrancing. The light reflected in the glass cube was nowhere close to as brilliant. It was a muddled mess of tan and blue, a dirty swirl of green and blotches of white that slowly clarified as the blood rushed through Tanith, a pounding—her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
In seconds, she could see it clear as day, her memory capturing the perfect recollection of the ocean in the distance, the island visible for the first time since she’d been born. The beach was a crescent strip, the docks no more than thin lines. and a city not far off. There were guards circling, a carriage pulling up the entrance of the castle when Tanith realized it wasn’t her memory.
It was the real thing.
She watched her mother move away from the window, scanning her room exactly as she’d left it. Nothing had been touched, save for the slight wrinkle in the bed. Meelah probably slept on it the first night she was gone, Tanith realized, and a pang of longing ran through her.
“There’s been no sign of them,” a familiar voice said, and the queen turned to face Leirge standing in the doorway.
His narrow nose was purple and red, stitches sticking out of the skin where the tip had been sewn back on. Other than his wound, he seemed the same as always. Thin and stiff. Brown hair slicked back.
“We lost sight through the telescopes before they reached the island. It was like they were sucked in, but some men swore they saw a firstborn go overboard.”
“No one’s returned,” her mother noted dully. “There’s been no word. No sign. The island doesn’t waver, though. That’s good. That means the creatures haven’t gotten to them yet.”
“Or perhaps that they simply haven’t decided,” Leirge corrected. “As far as we know, not one firstborn has escaped learning the truth. For one of them to slip by and steal the Light before returning unnoticed… it’s no easy task.”
The queen sighed, glancing out the window again. “Perhaps I should have gone myself. Maybe we should have prepared the firstborns for the reality of the matter. We’ll have to tell them the truth when they return anyway.”
If, Tanith wanted to scream. If they returned.
“It doesn’t matter why they think they’re going. The only thing that matters is that they return with the Light. Without it, Ellesmere and the other five will crumble. Our people will die out, and what are royals without anyone to rule over? How long until the uprisings return? How long until they go back to challenging the monarchy?”
Tanith’s mother shook her head. “We’ve tried for a thousand years. Do you ever think we should take a different approach?”
“Only one firstborn needs to be successful for the human lands to thrive again,” Leirge insisted, letting himself into the room. Tanith didn’t want him in there. Didn’t want him near her things. In her space. “Just one. I believe Tanith will bring us what we need. All of Ellesmere believes in her. It’s time you trust her training because it’s the only way for you to be the first fae queen outside of the invisible island.”
Avret smiled slightly. “My name would go above the other queens in the history books,” she considered. “And I’d get to watch Tanith take her turn. Then my grandchild and my great-grandchild. What more could a mother ask for?”
“Nothing,” Leirge answered, reaching for the queen’s hands. He grasped them, eyes alight with a mixture of excitement and greed. “You and I could do so much, my dear. We could change the course of humanity. Wipe out our weak, fragile bodies and replace them with something strong enough to accommodate our spirits through the centuries. What else is there if not success?”
Avret shook her head. “Nothing. There is nothing else because saving Ellesmere is everything.”
Tanith wondered where the idea of saving Ellesmere was during the dozens of Crish death sentences that occurred every month. Where was her mother then? Not bargaining for her people. Not saving their lives.
With the quirk of his lips, Leirge grinned widely. “It’s only a matter of time.”
Her stomach turned as she watched him lean in, her mother’s lips puckering to grace her advisor with a kiss. She’d never been so relieved to hear Coatis screeching.
“Mama! Mama!” he bellowed, the sound forcing Avret and Leirge two steps away from one another. The pale little boy appeared in the doorway, his curly blonde hair a ruffled mess, his fine clothes wrinkled and smeared with dirt.
“What is it, darling?” the queen asked. Leirge looked annoyed, though she didn’t seem to notice.
“Meelah’s ready to go! Her things are packed, and the carriage is ready!”
Avret nodded in understanding. “I’ll be right down.”
Coatis was gone in an instant, the tapping of his small shoes clicking down the hall. Tanith hadn’t thought she’d miss him and his loud voice, his grubby hands, and talent for making messes, but she did.
The queen turned back to her advisor. “I’ll wait three weeks at most. Any longer and I’m sending a legion, the very best we have to offer. I can’t afford to let the island disappear with Tanith and the others still on it, and if it takes longer than that, I’ll be forced to believe she’s been compromised.”
“Those aren’t the rules,” Leirge argued. “We know the island is visible as long as the firstborns haven’t either returned or decided to stay. We don’t know if that applies to non-royals.”
“Then we’ll have to take our chances,” she quipped. “Three weeks. No longer than that, and you can alert the military just in case. Tell them to start pulling together a team. I want a minimum of twenty-three men and women, experts in their fields. Make sure they prepare the automatic weapons too. If it comes to a fight, we should make it fair.”
Without another word, Tanith watched her mother leave her room, chin held high. For once, she saw her in a different light. Not questionable like she’d sometimes felt before, but dangerous. A threat.
As though she were standing in the room herself, she looked out the window again, soaking in the sight. The carriage. Meelah.
Leevi turned the cube on its side and in the blink of an eye, she was on the front steps, watching the guards load her sister’s bags. Meelah was dressed in orange, a compliment to her tawny skin and her curly brown hair was styled in a bun, some coils escaping.
“Bye-bye!” From the doorway, Coatis waved an enthusiastic goodbye, waiting for Meelah to smile back and wiggle her fingers before he slipped off again.
“Meelah!”
Tanith looked past the front fountain to see the boy from the bakery jogging up the road. He was waving his hand frantically as though worried she’d set off any second.
“Gregor!” she called back, lifting her bright skirt and meeting him part of the way.
So that was his name. Tanith hadn’t remembered, but she’d not forgotten him. His brown hair was shaved, eyes green, and he looked exactly the same. He was less pale in the sunlight, though still lanky and tall as he embraced Meelah, tucking his nose into her shoulder and squeezing tightly.
“Must you go?” he asked breathily, still trying to ease his panting.
The princess pulled back with a nod. “Yes, but I’ll return by Summer’s end, and you know what to do. If my sister returns before I do, meet her here on the front steps. Tell her I’ve missed her and can’t wait to see her again.”
“I
assume those same words go for me?”
She nodded, blushing. “Of course, they do. I know we’ve only spent four days together Gregor, but you’re special to me. When I return, you’re the first person I’ll find. Tanith excluded.”
Gregor chuckled, running a nervous hand over his cropped hair. “I can’t argue with that. Until I see you again, Meelah.”
Smiling, he lifted her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss there. Before he could start off, she surprised him with a peck on the cheek, grinning madly before shooing him off in his daze.
“Go on now! Before my mother comes to say goodbye!”
The boy nodded, walking, or stumbling back down the road as he called back to her. “If I start running now, I bet I could make it to the beach and see you off at the docks! Look for me! I’ll be waving!”
Four days, Tanith reminded herself as she watched him start sprinting away, Meelah staring after him with a flattered smile. They’d spent four days together and already; they may as well have been courting. She wondered if Meelah would really find him when she returned, or if a few weeks into her internship, she’d forget all about him. Had she chosen Larune or Ograboden? Tanith wondered when she’d decided.
Unlike Ardeen, she’d have a choice in who to love, and if she returned from her internship with Gregor still on her mind, there was no telling where the future would take them.
Tanith knew then that no matter her decision, she couldn’t bring her family to Wickenvare. She couldn’t tear Meelah away from a chance at happiness, let alone assume she’d leave Ellesmere without a ruler.
Their mother wasn’t coming. That much she knew for sure because she’d seen her and Leirge unravel their own lies. Asking would do no good. Giving her mother a chance to arrive on the island would be dangerous, and Tanith was through being lied to.
“Are you all set, dear?”
Tanith watched her mother trot down the front steps, hand outstretched to embrace Meelah as she approached. They hugged tightly, a proud smile stretching the queen’s face.
Tanith & Shaw (The Fealty of Firstborns Series Book 1) Page 14