Hidden Ashes: Reigning Fae Book 1

by AC Washer

  When I glanced over at Edon, my future consort, a gunshot of panic ripped through me. “Um…” I peered upstairs, struggling to think—to calm down. “Can I—can I have a moment? Maybe a bathroom break or…something?”

  I must have looked as freaked out as I felt, because Louie didn’t even glare. “Up the stairs, first door on the left. Five minutes.”

  I nodded and dashed up the stairs, careful not to step on the dress. The closer I got to the second floor, the louder Deena’s snores echoed through the corridor.

  Her snoring helped me collect my thoughts better than anything else could have. It was comforting knowing she was here.

  I opened the door to the bathroom and stepped inside. From the increased level of snore, Deena’s room connected to this bathroom as well. I turned on the cold water, cooling my wrists as I stared in the mirror, my deep blue eyes jumping out from my pale, made-up face. I didn’t register the twisted locks of hair that weaved around the delicate tiara. Instead, I stood there thinking how Deena wouldn’t remember me. That if everything went sideways, the only people left alive with memories of me would be the fae who’d manipulated me into this position. It wasn’t fair.

  My hand paused as I was about to turn the faucet off. Almost of its own accord, my feet took a couple steps to the left and opened the second door to the connecting bedroom. Deena laid sprawled out on a rustic oak queen bed, oblivious to the world.

  Taking a breath, I crept closer to her, hoping I wasn’t being selfish. I just wanted someone to remember me. She didn’t even need to remember the fae—just me. Just Kella from before the fae. That couldn’t be too much to ask for.

  I crouched down, my lips almost brushing her ear.

  “Deena,” I said. “It’s me, Kella James. Remember the girl with blue eyes and frizzy brown curls who tried to steal your van? She reminded you of yourself, and all she did was make things hard for you. But you liked her anyway, and she liked you back.” I swallowed, unsure of what else to say. It’s not like I wanted my memory to haunt her or anything. “You, uh, you helped her. You gave her hope, and, um…” This was getting awkward even though Deena still slept. “She was glad to have you in her life. She just wants you to remember her, okay? Remember that she loved her brother and fought for him the best way she knew how.”

  I licked my lips, backing away. I didn’t know what else to say. And anyway, I needed to get downstairs before anyone came looking for me. I doubted they’d be thrilled to find me in Deena’s room.

  Edon stood by the bottom of the stairs as I descended, fabric bunched in my hands.

  “Shall we?” Edon asked, taking a step back and offering his arm.

  I swallowed, my throat dry. My mom would make this all work out. She’d done this much. She only had to hang on for a few more hours and I’d be free.

  I nodded at Edon, who ushered me out of the door into the waiting car. For better or worse, it was show time. I shut my eyes, taking in a deep breath. Soon. After the investiture, it would be just Caleb, me, and my mother. Soon.

  It wasn’t a shock when we drove up to an elegant, pillared building that looked similar to a governor’s mansion or a state building of some sort—after all, it was a coronation.

  Edon forced a smile as a fae dressed in black opened the limo door, gesturing for us to come out onto a purple carpet.

  Glamoured fae lined up on either side of twin velvet ropes, but despite the large size of the crowd, I only heard the soft hush of murmured voices.

  Cheers erupted as soon as Edon stepped out, his face plastered with the fakest smile I’d ever seen. He waved to the crowd, ignoring a small chorus of boos from some place hidden in the crowd.

  He held his hand out and I took it, careful not to look up into his face. In less than an hour, this fae would be my consort. I knew brides had wedding jitters, but I didn’t feel anything jittery. Instead, a dreadful emptiness pressed in on me.

  As soon as I appeared, the crowed quieted down to a murmur. A few fae raised half-hearted cheers as I took Edon’s offered arm. “Such a warm welcome,” I muttered.

  “Jealous?” he said, escorting me down the carpet.

  “No. Just—I don’t know.”

  “The queen would consider half of these fae to be rebels. If I wasn’t sacrificing myself for them, they’d be as good as dead in a little over an hour.”

  “Sacrificing yourself? Doesn’t anyone here get that I’m the sacrifice?”

  “Sure. But your sacrifice ushers in the reign of a power-hungry queen. Mine gives them hope for their lives. My sacrifice wins.”

  “Great. So I’m the harbinger of death.”

  At that, Edon grinned. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t be shackling myself to you if I thought you didn’t have a chance. I’d have killed you instead.”

  “Nothing says consort like ‘person who almost decided to kill you.’”

  He shrugged. “At least I’m honest about it.”

  “I guess.”

  When we entered the marbled atrium, council members dressed in deep purple robes with silver embroidery greeted us from the other side, gesturing for us to follow them. Edon kept us several paces behind them as they led us through a door framed by velvet red curtains.

  The elegant room was modest in size but spacious enough to seat the council. I recognized Aaron, Brianna, and Maeve, but the rest were new. Maeve stood on a dais at the front of the room. On the floor in front of her laid two wine-red cushions.

  Edon shifted next to me, taking in a deep breath.

  “Nervous?” I asked.

  He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “Just ready to get this over with.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Don’t pretend I hurt your feelings.”

  “No, but maybe my pride.”

  He chuckled. “That makes two of us.”

  “How is your pride being hurt?”

  “I’m marrying the avatar of an evil queen I’ve been trying to depose for years. You could call this a humbling experience.”

  I went to elbow him, but he gracefully sidestepped, carrying it off like he was guiding me forward.

  “Kneel,” Maeve said.

  We both kneeled in front of her, our knuckles brushing.

  “Kella, heir to the throne, daughter of House MacGreine, and Edon, chosen consort, son of House MacCuill, stretch forth your hands.”

  Maeve grasped our outstretched wrists.

  “Edon, son of House MacCuill, swear your oath to serve, protect, and honor the House MacGreine.”

  “No. I will swear the traditional oath.”

  Maeve’s grip tightened on my wrist.

  “The queen said—”

  “The traditional oath cannot be removed.”

  “You cannot choose the laws you wish to follow.”

  “But as the ruling council, the queen allows you a certain amount of leeway in her absence, does she not?”

  Maeve glared at him. Edon glared right back.

  “This is a simple choice, Maeve,” he said. “The traditional oath, or I revoke your permission to be within five feet of us and will kill her in front of you. How would your queen come back then?”

  Maeve’s mouth worked. She looked over our heads to the onlooking council and back to us again, her mouth a grim line.

  “Edon, son of House MacCuill, swear your oath to serve, protect, and honor Kella, daughter of House MacGreine, for the remainder of your life.”

  “I swear.”

  Maeve’s piercing blue gaze cut through mine like glass. “Kella, daughter of House MacGreine, swear your oath to protect and honor Edon, son of House of MacCuill so long as he fulfills his.”

  “I swear,” I said, the words strangled.

  “Then by your oaths” —Maeve lifted our hands higher into the air, joining them over our heads— “I now bind you.” Glowing strands of silver curled around our wrists and hands, a comforting and pleasant warmth emanating from them.

  “And thus it shall be,” murmured Maeve.


  “And thus it shall be,” repeated the council members in the room, each bearing a grave expression.

  At that, the silver threads dissolved into mist, the light reflecting off of it at odd angles as it dissipated throughout the room.

  A weight settled over me as I tried not to look at Edon. This is temporary, I reminded myself. Just temporary.

  Edon turned toward me, a hint of a smile on his face. I frowned back at him. Becoming my consort was nothing to smile about.

  “Cheer up,” he murmured, nudging me in the arm. “We’ve officially avoided a bloodbath. If that’s your last sane act, it’s still a good one to go out on.” The smile made more sense now. It wasn’t one of satisfaction, but of relief.

  My stomach churned. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

  He squeezed my hand once before letting it go. “You’re doing great. Just one more life-changing ritual, and then I’ll take you to a corner where you can puke away.”

  “You’re an ass,” I said, my palm itching to smack him.

  He smiled. “I’ve been called worse.”

  “I’m sure you have.”

  He grinned.

  I scowled.

  My stomach growled while Edon held my hand in the crook of his arm. Edon had shrugged on a silver and dark blue ensemble that complemented mine.

  “You know that human males look ridiculous in robes, don’t you?” I said.

  He arched a brow. “Then I suppose it’s a good thing I’m not human.”

  As if I could forget.

  “And anyway,” he added with a grin, “I don’t plan on looking like this for much longer.”

  “Or,” I muttered, “you could end up looking like that forever.”

  “Still holding onto that hope, huh?” he said.

  I swallowed, forcing myself to be positive. It would work. It had to. My mom would hang onto the queen, the investiture would fail, and my mom would heal Caleb. Then I could live my life again—with Caleb—and leave this whole mess of investitures, fae queens, pixies, and elves far, far behind me.

  A niggling thought worried my brain. What if something went wrong?

  I shoved that thought away and focused instead on the red curtains framing the great hall’s entryway.

  On either side, a large crowd had gathered. The only space left in the room was a narrow walkway that led to a dais. There, an ivory altar stood waiting, a silver scepter placed on top. Even from across the hall, I could see the staff was intricately wrought, though I couldn’t make out any details.

  A sound similar to that of trumpets startled me, making me jump.

  I looked up, sure I would find Edon laughing at me, but he merely clamped a hand over mine and stared at the altar, alert. His hand was clammy on my skin. I peered up at his stoic expression, surprised at the nervousness his face refused to betray. He didn’t look down.

  Edon closed his eyes and said so softly that I almost didn’t hear him, “Did anyone ever tell you that the heir should be unconscious for this part?”

  It rang a bell. “The principal said something about that happening when they drained an heir’s magic. But since I have none, Maeve said it was a moot point.”

  “Yes, but even before the queen corrupted the investiture—before they drained the heirs—it was still common practice. It was to facilitate the transfer of magic—to make it less strenuous and allow the heir to wrap her magic around the new influx in order to control it.”

  I fidgeted with the skirt of my dress, clenching and unclenching my hands in its folds. “Okay, but again, no magic, so—”

  “Don’t worry,” Edon continued, as if he hadn’t heard me speaking. “I have no intention of draining you. But we’d have a better chance of you overcoming the investiture if you were unconscious.”

  I jerked my gaze up to stare at him. “What part of ‘I don’t have access to my magic’ do you not get?”

  He shook his head. “I think you’ll call it back whether or not you want to—or even consciously know how to. You’ve already proven that you can pull a portion of it to you when motivated.” A tight smile formed on his lips, and I remembered how I somehow blasted him into unconsciousness.

  “That wasn’t on purpose—that was an accident. You were freaking me out,” I said defensively. “And anyway, Caleb is still alive, so I couldn’t have pulled that much magic.”

  Edon gave me a wry grin. “And that is precisely why I am your consort.”

  “Because I knocked you out with a little magic?”

  Edon shook his head. “No. Because only someone with enough power to overcome the queen would consider that amount of magic ‘little.’”

  “Oh,” I said. Well, we would never find out—not with the current plan. And I was more than okay with that. I was fine with anything that kept Caleb alive. By now, the queen should be back in my mom’s mind, her power healing my brother. I wasn’t in any danger of needing my magic—I hoped. No, she’d do it. My mother had sacrificed her entire life for this day; there’s no way she would let herself fail now.

  The background hum of the audience quieted. It was time. After this, I’d have Caleb again.

  I all but bounced forward, ready to get this over with, but Edon didn’t move. I paused in confusion, turning around to look at Edon.

  “Like I mentioned,” Edon said, an apology lurking in his eyes. “It’s best you are unconscious for this part.” Before I could respond, I saw the telltale yellow grains of pixie dust floating down from the crown of my head.

  “You—you…” I dropped to my knees, my gaze unable to focus on anything other than Edon’s honey-brown eyes. I distantly registered that he sunk to the ground with me, his arms catching me under mine.

  “Forgive me,” he said.

  “Ass,” I whispered even as my vision deserted me.

  Pixie dust seemed to create a sort of tipsy fatigue. Deena had passed out in no time flat, but it appeared to affect fae—or at least me—differently.

  I felt the jostling as Edon picked me up. The way my face rubbed against the threads embroidering his robe with every muted step he took. I could even make out a smattering of words, but they seemed muddy and gurgled, like I was listening from underwater.

  Panic didn’t set in, though, until Edon lowered me onto what had to be the ivory cushioned altar. This was it—the investiture was happening—and I knew, knew, I shouldn’t go through with it. I couldn’t take the risk—not from a mom I’d never met. She couldn’t take care of herself anymore. What the hell was I thinking letting her take care of Caleb? How could I be that careless again? I tried to move—to twist—get up, but my body refused to obey a single command. When I tried screaming, nothing came out. I couldn’t even move my mouth. I was trapped—awake but not—even as soft footfalls echoed around me, the murmur of voices droning on, maybe even chanting. I wasn’t sure which.

  I was helpless.

  Much, I realized, like Caleb.

  Caleb.

  As if the thought summoned him, he stood in front of me, the only thing I could see, though my eyes remained shut.

  You’re here, I thought. I couldn’t talk in this halfway state between conscious and unconsciousness, so it caught me by surprise when Caleb shook his head in answer.

  “Still in the hospital—at least my body is, anyway. But you managed to drag me somewhere different this time.” He seemed to gaze around at surroundings I couldn’t see.

  “What is this place?” he asked, his head swiveling back. “And why are you laying on an altar?”

  I wanted to groan. It’s the investiture.

  “Huh. Well, they’ve laid you out like Snow White in the glass coffin—minus the glass top. It’s all very fairytale-like.” He smiled at me but it was a little too forced to seem genuine. “You’re doing great,” he said.

  Why are you still in the hospital?

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  My mom. She promised to heal you if I did the investiture.

  Caleb looked away fr
om me, staring at his sneakers.

  What is it? What aren’t you telling me?

  “I wish we had more time,” he said. “But…” He glanced up at people I couldn’t see, the murmurs around me growing stronger, louder—almost like I was about to break the surface.

  “I’m glad you pulled me here,” Caleb rushed on. “I wanted to tell you how much I love you. And not to blame yourself—you’re brave, you’re awesome—I made the decisions I made and Dad did too—that’s not on you. You did all you could—” He dropped off, something catching his eye.

  “What are you saying?” I croaked. I must be getting my voice back. Several urgent voices whispered in the background.

  He reached out, pressing his hand to mine. “This will be the last time I’ll be coming to you.” His voice was overly-gentle.

  “Well, yeah, like this,” I said, still unable to move. “She’s going to heal you.” My tongue was sluggish.

  He looked into my eyes and said, “I’m glad you were my sister. You saved me from Dad in your own stubborn, impulsive way.”

  I smiled.

  “And I’m glad you made me live; it’s the only way I can now return the favor.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your mom can’t heal me, Kella.”

  “No, no.” I could feel my eyelids flutter. “She promised me. She can’t break a promise. After this…” I tried to wave my hand, but failed. “It’ll be you and me. This’ll be done.”

  He shook his head. “She promised she’d help me, Kella. And she is. She’s helping me save you.”

  My heart beat louder, my eyes flying open. Even though I could still see Caleb clearly, everyone else blurred together in a tapestry of muddy, shifting shadows. “That’s not what she—that’s not what I meant!” I struggled into a half-sitting position. Distant murmurs erupted around me. Hands gripped my arms, pulling me back. I threw them off.

  “Caleb? Caleb! What is she going to do? What’s happening?”

  His eyes widened at something to my side. “Kella, she got clean, but the queen never came back. Your mom’s been drugged up for so long… Kella, I’m sorry. I don’t have enough time. I…” His image paced back and forth in front of me. He looked up. “I’m sorry. I love you. And this is what I want.”