by Kristie Cook
“Are they in Faery?”
“I have no idea. Only rumors that they could be.”
She stopped and turned, giving me a long look, then shrugged. “You should have said something to him. The Shadow Lands are far removed from the rest of Faery and the Court of Souls even farther, so we don’t follow all the goings-on of the continent—only what interests us—but this is something he needs to know. He would want to find them.”
My brows arched. “Would he now? And at what cost?”
“Of course, he would and at no cost. You are his future family. Your family is his family.” She hurried on again with me following on her heels.
She said it so easily, but I couldn’t quite believe that Tor would do anything for my family. I supposed it wouldn’t hurt to ask, especially if we were truly going to be united.
“Oh, ew!” I nearly choked. “I promise you this—his family will never be mine!”
She glanced over her shoulder as we turned a corner. “No offense taken.”
I said no more, following along as she rattled off other rooms, gesturing toward a doorway to the kitchen and rushing us through a sitting area full of plush settees and pillows as large as beds, with several large glass doors that opened to a terrace. Of all of them, I hated Saoirse the least. Well, no, that wasn’t true. Not anymore. Tor had been right—I didn’t hate him at all. I didn’t want to admit how or what I did feel for him, but it wasn’t hatred. I wasn’t sure about his sister yet. She aggravated the hell out of me, but I knew the only harm she’d done was an attempt to help me.
I’d meant the king and Tor’s brothers—they would never be my family. I may have to kill them before the wedding to make that true.
We passed through an archway off the sitting room, entering another hallway with curved walls, the outer one lined with windows framed by blue drapes, and more whorls, scrolls, and fae runes glowing in various jewel-tones along the inner wall. Saoirse stopped at a set of double doors painted a deep blue.
“Your room. You have enough time to clean up and change. If you take too long, however, and Tor makes me wait on you to eat, it may be your heart that I’ll be consuming.” With that, she strode off, back the way we came.
The circular room was decorated in teal and silver, and more homesickness for school hit me. Those had been the colors of our dorm. My heart hurt more as I glanced up and noticed the tops of the walls were painted with vines that circled the room and climbed up toward the domed ceiling where clouds were so realistic, they seemed to float through the air. It reminded me a bit of Sadie’s room.
Dad. Mom. Sadie. Brielle. Charleigh. Sasha, too. What were they all doing now? Where were they?
Heaving a harsh exhale, I fell back on the soft bed and threw an arm over my eyes, fighting a strange desire to cry.
I wasn’t a crier. But my whole life had turned upside down, and I was in a strange—and dangerous—land with otherworldly beings and no idea where anyone I loved was. I wondered if they were okay … and knew they probably were not. Would I ever hug any of them again? Would I even see any of them again?
Stop being so dramatic. Suck it up and do what needs to be done.
Giving myself another minute, I finally inhaled deeply and forced myself to sit up. A private bathroom was off the bedroom, and it was as opulent as I’d expect in a faerie castle, even if this wasn’t quite a castle. I filled a large tub that appeared to be made of sea glass or some kind of crystal, the water warm faintly scented with lavender and chamomile. It should have been relaxing, and I did feel a ton better when I emerged, though that ache of loneliness still lingered. A large closet with only a few outfits hanging from one of the many rods was off the bathroom, and I grabbed the only dress, not knowing what to expect for mealtimes here, especially dinner.
Leaving my room, I went back the way we’d come, through the sitting room and toward the kitchen, but I hadn’t been paying attention to where the dining room was. Following my nose, I passed through another doorway and gasped. An arched ceiling of stained glass topped the broad corridor, the dark, shiny marble floor reflecting the various colors like a mirror. I marveled as the same colors danced along my skin as I walked through. About halfway down, I was pulled to the right, and I turned into a much darker hallway.
No natural light flooded this corridor as there were no windows, colored or otherwise. A few faerie light orbs were scattered along the ceiling, their light dim, just enough to see by. More paintings lined the walls, both sides, and these were not at all like the portraits Tor had painted and hung in the other hallway. These were dark … full of rage and anguish and pain … of torment. One to my right was only broad, harsh strokes in black and red, thick blobs of paint left on the canvas. One to my left showed the naked body of a fae, skin flayed, a pool of deep crimson surrounding it. Another appeared to be a stormy sky over an angry sea, but so blurred and abstract, it could have been a vision of the mind rather than that of the eye.
But at the end of the hall, I paused, my breath catching. Becoming trapped in my lungs as I remained frozen—all but my hand, which lifted and reached for the scene before me.
A blurred background of mostly brown stone walls, smudged faces gathered across the top, as though looking down. Down upon a pit where two female figures with copper-colored hair were surrounded by dead bodies on the ground around them—
Brielle and me, facing each other … our arms reaching for each other … a spear rammed through the hearts of both of us.
This was the image of our deaths in the Pits.
Chapter 18
My heart seemed to stop as renewed pain shot through my chest, as though I were feeling the killing blow all over again. The expressions on our faces—shock, agony, love—so beautifully and realistically captured. The same bedlam of emotions churned through me, all dark and full of anguish and rage, swallowing my breath and bringing me to my knees. What had happened to us? Why?
Tears once again filled my eyes, and I allowed them to spill this time as I pressed my hands against my chest, my gaze still locked on the image even as my head craned back to see it now. I sobbed for the innocent girls who’d somehow ended up in that prison and for the lives that were stolen from them.
But were they? Were they innocent? Were their lives stolen? Or are they traveling the paths they’re meant to—the ones they deserve for what they’ve done?
The dark voice of the beast inside me spoke truths I’d been trying to deny. I still wanted to deny. I knew what I’d done, but Brielle . . . she didn’t deserve what had happened to her. No, I could not believe our time in the Vault was a dish served up by karma, a punishment for something we’d unintentionally done at six years old, too young to understand or even know what, exactly, we had done. The Vault was done to us. Why, I didn’t know. By whom, I didn’t know either. But as my eyes drifted to the painting right next to ours, I began to wonder . . .
The cruel eyes of King Caellach stared at me, silver in color against the dark ash tone his skin became when he turned on his full power. The portrait was only of his face and white hair against a black background of broad, swirling brushstrokes. I glared back at him for a long moment, until a red haze blurred my vision and a storm of hatred filled me. I rose back to my feet, my beast doing the same within. As my gaze bounced between the cruel king and the death of my sister and me, new truths formed in the back of my mind, and the cage within began to rise, my beast’s tongue sliding up my spine, leaving a trail of Darkness.
“So you’ve found the Hall of Sorrows,” a soft, deep voice said from directly behind me, his breath hot on my ear, he stood so close.
And immediately, the anguish drained away, Tor absorbing it, taking it from me. Without hesitation, I leaned against him, feeling his power grow as my beast settled down, the cage back in place. My breaths still came unevenly as I tilted my head and looked up, his beautiful face over me as he glared at the same images. The hatred built in him, too, his skin darkening and his hair bleaching out. I stepped away as the power gre
w, lashing off of him in black tendrils of smoke. Rather than settling me now, his dark energy reached for my own, and my beast stirred again.
“I have to get out of here,” I gasped, rushing back down the corridor for the hall of light and color.
“Don’t know if I need food anymore, between the two of you.” Saoirse stood in the doorway, her own skin blackening and her short, spiky hair whitening. Though she’d shed her normal armor, wearing a loose silk top and harem-like pants that should have softened her appearance, the purple glow in her eyes made her look fiercer than ever. She inhaled deeply, consuming Tor’s hatred in large gulps until his own power settled.
I rushed past her and leaned against a wall, gasping for fresh air as I tried to calm myself. When I finally looked at the two of them with wide eyes, their hair, skin, and eyes returned to normal, though now dappled in bright colors from the stained glass overhead.
“You painted those, too?” I asked Tor. He dropped his head in acknowledgment. “But why keep them? Why put them on display?”
He didn’t respond but strode off.
“When you have memories like his, there’s no need to torture others to feed off their torment,” Saoirse said quietly before following him.
I stared after them as I began to understand. The Hall of Sorrows, as he’d called it, created enough torment of his own to feed his power. And that last picture was the being responsible for it all: his father. The hatred that face alone must have created within both of them kept Saoirse’s power well fed, too. This was how they remained strong without harming others.
We ate, just the three of us, a quiet meal of a white fish with a light sauce and greens, perfectly prepared by the prince himself. They disappeared right after, giving me freedom to explore the manor as I like, but I returned straight to my room and sat on the balcony that overlooked the plaza, watching the final light of the sunset disappear and night take over. Colorful light orbs danced and hovered around the small city, casting purple, pink, blue, and turquoise hues on the white marble of the buildings. Many of the domed roofs glowed softly, as well. It was all straight out of a fairy tale, including the prince himself.
Too bad I already knew this could never end with a happily ever after.
Unlike the previous evening, the manor bustled with activity the next morning when I emerged from my room for breakfast. The sitting room and kitchen were still quiet, but a platter of pastries was laid out. I chose a croissant, poured a cup of faerie tea, and followed the sounds to the front of the home. Fae seemed to be everywhere, chattering and a few even humming as they cleaned, polished, and hung swaths of fabric across the domed ceilings of the mezzanine, and more could be heard in the directions of the throne room and ballroom.
“Ready?” Saoirse asked, appearing next to me, dressed in tight pants, a cropped tank top, and armed to the teeth.
“Ready for what?” I choked out, wondering what everyone was preparing for. “And I thought Tor didn’t have slaves.”
“He doesn’t,” she snapped. “Hired work is not the same as slavery.”
“So they’re paid?”
“Very well paid, in fact.”
“Do they do this every day?”
Saoirse snorted. “The prince does not get engaged every day, now does he?”
My heart stuttered, and I turned to stare at her. “Whoa. What does that mean? What’s going on here?”
Her pretty little mouth curled into that smirky grin. “You are to have an engagement celebration, of course. The fae love their parties, don’t you know? Even the Shadows.” She chuckled at the horror that was clear on my face. “Come with me. I know what you do like.”
She walked off, and at first, I only watched her, wondering what exactly she had in mind as her round ass sashayed across the room.
“Yasta, Elliana! Yasta!”
I hurried after her, following her through the halls again to the back of the home and out to the rear lawn. A large terrace of more marble, with a few different seating areas scattered about, gave way to luscious green grass. The mountain’s gray face that was as vertical as a wall rose just beyond the marble wall bordering the lawn. Stopping in the middle of the grass, Saoirse turned to me and gestured to put my teacup down on the nearby table.
“What are we doing?” I asked, though I was pretty sure I already knew.
“You are scared of your own power. You need to overcome that, or you will never gain control, and eventually, you will explode. I imagine you wouldn’t like the repercussions of that.”
I shrugged. “Depends on where I am at the time and who’s around me. I don’t regret what happened in the throne room at the Court of Shadows.”
She smiled. “No, I don’t figure you do. But that’s a dangerous way to defend yourself and no way to live. We’re going to do whatever it takes to figure this out, so you don’t have to live in fear of yourself.”
How could I argue with that? I’d spent years fearing what the beast inside me could do. Now that my memories had returned, I knew exactly the carnage she could create, so much worse than the greedy, soul-sucking fae in the throne room at the auction. If I could harness that power, though … destroy the Shadow king … that might be worth the effort it would take to learn to trust myself.
Except it took a lot more effort than either of us expected—or, it seemed, that I could muster.
I trained with Saoirse for days, only seeing Tor in the evenings. I assumed he was planning our wedding, which annoyed me because if I had to actually marry him, well, I’d like to be a part of the plans. But when I asked, he insisted he was attending to court business. Our evenings together were, well, nice, if I had to admit. We sat on one of the balconies each night after meals, drinking faerie wine and discussing life in the Court of Souls. The pride for his people and love for them came through in the stories he told and details he shared, and I could almost imagine myself happy here. You know, if my family weren’t scattered across the realms and who knew what was happening to them.
“I’ll send some scouts to the Light lands to find out if your parents are there,” he promised me, and for the first time since that day in the mirrors at college, I felt the tiniest bit of hope.
During the days, I worked with Saoirse, yet barely made any progress. I knew how to find the power and even tap into it, but I couldn’t bring myself to embrace it. To allow it to run through my veins freely, without fear of what it might do if I lost control. Without fear of decimating all of the fae busily preparing for my engagement ball. Saoirse’s glamour tricks to become the king no longer worked, since I now knew it was her. A trip back through the Hall of Sorrows brought my full power rising once again, but voices in the rooms beyond reminded me of the risk, and I sucked it all back in.
“You’ll get a break the next couple of days, but then we’re back at it again,” Saoirse said one afternoon when we ended early. “I no longer care if you use your power to help us, though I hope you will. Now you’ve just become a challenge I must overcome. The fae in me just can’t go on knowing that there’s such immense power in that body of yours. The Shadow fae in me who’s seen so many be drained of their powers, including my own mother, can’t fathom the idea of all that power being suppressed . . . all that potential wasted.”
I scowled at this perspective, not liking it either. But it seemed nothing we did could change it.
“What’s going on the next couple of days?”
She smiled. “Tor has plans for you tonight, and tomorrow is the big ball.” My mouth gaped, and she laughed at my reaction. “Have fun.”
She flitted her fingers in a little wave, then sifted away.
I found two female fae waiting and a beautiful dress laid out for me when I returned to my room. After a luxurious bath in that perfumed water, the duo went to work on my hair and face, making me into a piece of art. The gossamer dress, an almost sheer dark blue fabric with sparkles that made it look like the night sky, fell perfectly over my curves, the back completely open almost al
l the way down to my butt.
“Are you sure this isn’t for tomorrow?” I asked them.
The more outspoken one scrunched her brows together. “No, my lady. This is just a simple gown.”
I could only imagine what the dress I’d be wearing tomorrow would be like then—or the one for the actual ceremony. I couldn’t wait to see either. Just trying to find the silver lining in the fact that I was not only marrying someone I didn’t love, but a male at that. At least this male was … bearable. I didn’t know if he was better or worse than Maeve. I just knew neither were the one I truly wanted to be with.
Neither was Sadie.
Tor waited for me on the back veranda, which was lit up with colored faerie lights, a table laid out like a fancy restaurant at the center. He sipped from a glass of wine as he leaned against the balustrade, wearing a black jacket and dress pants, a turquoise tunic underneath that brought out his eyes. As if they needed any help. At least he was handsome. When the time came to, uh, consummate our marriage—after all, I wasn’t a fool and knew the king expected a grand-prince or two out of this—I could easily remind myself there were much worse males to have to lay with. His power could help things along, though I feared he might not have to use it. Still … this was not my fairy tale ending.
“Before the true chaos begins, I thought you and I should have some time alone tonight,” he said, his piercing gaze traveling over me from head to toe. “You look . . . divine. The dress is perfect.”
I dipped my head in thanks, then realized what he was saying. The backless dress was on purpose. I snapped my wings out, and he grinned in approval.
“You and your sister are simply amazing.”
My brows pinched for a moment as I wondered why he said it that way. Why he even mentioned her. Before I could ask, the very well paid attendants came out and began to serve us.
Dinner was out of this world. Faerie food was so much . . . more than even that of the shiny world.