“Would you like me to suture him instead?” Kemi asked. “I've done it before.”
“No. Why?” Iefyr asked, an eyebrow raised.
Kemi's ear twitched. “I just thought maybe it would be easier for me since my hands are smaller.”
“I am perfectly capable of suturing a wound.” Iefyr held his hand out toward Nador. “Tweezers. He's got a splinter still in there.”
Expecting a sharp pain, I closed my eyes. Instead, I felt only a gentle tug. “Iefyr does great stitchwork. He put me back together after I fought the Foxfae and some of the scars are already barely noticeable.”
“I'm sorry, Iefyr. I didn't mean to depreciate your skill,” Kemi said, leaning back on her knees. “I see the scars on your cheekbone and collarbone. They're new, but only thin lines. I suppose I didn't expect an orc to have such a delicate hand.”
“Needle.” Iefyr scowled and drew up a length of catgut. “I inherited my elven mother's dexterity, and my orcan father's love for knowledge and inability to put up with bullshit. I'm not an orc and not an elf and we discussed my parentage already, Kemi. I don't like assumptions being made about me by people who don't bother to pay attention to the truth about the races they belittle.”
“I wasn't belittling,” Kemi said, lowering her chin. “I'm sorry. I've never met an orc, let alone an orcan half-elf, so all I know is what I've been told. You're nothing like I expected and I'm sorry I offended you again.”
“Scissors. Don't . . . don't take my offense personally. I don't have much patience for highborn elves who aren't named Goldtree or Wingstorm. I suppose I have my own biases to work out.”
“Why do you assume I'm highborn?”
Iefyr clipped the tails off the three tiny sutures in my shoulder. “You're a dragonbound elf from Anthora sent to another realm on a diplomatic mission. You're wearing embroidered cadra leather and silk, and the dagger you wear on your belt has gemstones in the hilt. You're trying to appear practical, but the details give you away.”
“You're a highborn, too, Iefyr Sealash.” Kemi stood and rubbed her palms against the side seams of her long jacket. “I know who you are. Your mother was Ienya Ironwood, only daughter of Duke Yandel Ironwood of the Beryl Realm. Ienya was engaged to marry the High King's younger brother, Prince Nyshan, but then in the dead of winter she gave birth to a half-orc child. She ran off in a snowstorm with her orc lover and their bastard child, bringing dishonor upon her family.”
Iefyr snorted and shook his head. “I don't know where you heard that, but it's wrong. I'm not a bastard, wasn't even conceived as one. My parents married in secret a year before I was born. My father, Fyrel Sealash, worked for the Ironwoods. He was trapped as an indentured servant after Yandel financed his education. He was saving money to pay off his debt and take my mother away from Ironhelm, but then Yandel sent him to Stormfield as a bodyguard for one of my uncles. That assignment ended up being six months long, and my father returned to Ironhelm to find that Yandel had locked my mother in her room to hide what he saw as her great shame. Yandel had no idea at the time that the child she carried wasn't a full-blooded elf, and I'm certain he would have killed her outright had he known the truth. As it was, for three months he starved her and left her to suffer alone. Wouldn't even let her mother or sisters see her. She gave birth to me alone while my father tried to figure out a way to free her. Yandel came into my mother's room when he heard me cry. He saw my face, and then ripped me out of my mother's arms and tried to drown me. Mom hit him over the head with a candlestick. She saved me from the water basin, wrapped me in a blanket, and ran through the door Yandel had left unlocked in his rage. She and my father left Ironhelm with nothing but me and a few supplies strapped to a horse. She gave birth less than an hour before she had to flee into the frigid midwinter. The horse died on the fourth day and they had to make the rest of the journey on foot.
“They told me when I was older that they weren't sure how we all survived that, especially me, but we did and the Sealash clan of Tidegarden accepted us with little hesitation. There was a lot of love in my family and we were quite happy. Then the Ironwoods came for us when I was sixteen. My uncles murdered my parents, murdered my brother and two of my three sisters and the twins growing in my mother's womb. I killed my uncles that day, but I was only able to save my youngest sister. Everything I knew and loved was obliterated because the Ironwoods couldn't accept that one of their own loved an orc. So yes, Kemi Silverwind, by my mother's blood I am highborn, but that is exactly why I am so suspicious of highborn elves.”
Nador set her hand over Iefyr's. “You didn't have to tell her all of that. It was none of her business and now it's fresh in your mind again.”
“It always has been. Always will be.” Iefyr tucked the witch hazel bottle into his med kit and fastened the straps. “Kemi, when we spoke yesterday you didn't want to believe the truth of elven brutality. Well, that truth is my truth. I've lived it, and I've seen it fully displayed in far more families than the Ironwoods.” Iefyr dabbed a damp cloth around my wound to clean off the remaining blood droplets. “It's not just me. Tessen's father was murdered by the same elves who tried to kill his mother and brother, and then he witnessed the assassination of Duke Goldtree by his own guards, who would have murdered the rest of the family if not for the quick reactions of Tessen and his uncle. You asked me yesterday why I am so wary of Anthora, and I wasn't in a mood to answer then. Now I've told you and now you know.”
I was in a daze before, but I was now acclimating to the pain in my heart and I knew we'd already lingered too long. We were drawing unwanted attention. “Iefyr, can you continue this later, when Ragan's life isn't dependent on us? We need to pay for what I broke and get out of here. Everyone is glaring at us.”
Iefyr tilted his head to the right and stared at me. “You're right. My sentiment still stands, though. Don't trust highborn elves.” He held out his hand to help me sit upright, then pulled me to my feet. “Marita and the Goldtrees are exceptions, but that's because they have already proven themselves trustworthy. The Silverwinds haven't.”
Kemi's head dipped lower and her cheeks reddened. “I'll do everything I can to earn your favor.”
“You keep doing that, gorgeous,” Nador said, her nose scrunched. She handed Iefyr his med kit so he could return it to the saddlebag. “For what it's worth, I don't trust you, either. No particular reason, I just don't.”
I drew a deep breath to test my lungs. The tingling pain in my chest flared to repetitive stabs. When I breathed slowly and deliberately, the pain returned to barely tolerable. This was going to be difficult.
“Don't scare me like that again,” Rose said, embracing me. She was back from the vendor, a jar of dark honey in her hand and concern etched upon her face. “Are you all right?”
“Iefyr stitched me up. Just a little cut. The rest of it . . . don't worry about it. I'll be fine once Serida is back with me. Let's go get Ragan.”
Chapter 41
The outer gates of the Amberwood Palace were open and lightly guarded. Three disinterested sentinels squinted at us as we passed beneath the threshold, then returned to playing their card game.
Before us sat gardened grounds and elaborate sandstone fountains. Vine-covered archways shaded a labyrinth of wide paths, which were comprised of amber and red bricks set into elaborate sun and fire patterns. Huge planters of flameflower and hibiscus sat at the path intersections and red peafowl wandered between barberry shrubs.
Behind a wall of abstract murals and an iron gate sat the sprawling Amberwood Palace itself. Its sandstone spires and arches rose far above the surrounding plateau. Amber and cobalt glass windows and inlays sparkled in the afternoon sun.
A bored-looking Faeline guard sat in a booth near the gate, picking apart a pomegranate with the tip of his dagger. He rubbed his nose with juice-stained hands and glared at us as we approached. He sighed and said, “Are you here to make a petition or to have the King officiate a tourist wedding? Do you have an appointment?”
“Petition,” Rose said. I was several paces behind her but could clearly see the tremble in her hands.
The guard sighed again and scratched at his piebald hair, leaving two pomegranate juice fingerprints on his temple. “Leave your horses with the grooms and take the left path to the Office of Appeals. I suppose you'll have to take the dragons in with you.”
“Thank you.” Rose stood at the gate and waited for the interior guards to open it.
On the other side of the gate, a group of Horsefae waited to take our horses. They tapped their feet impatiently as we collected what we needed from our saddlebags.
“Tessen, put on a jacket. You have blood all over your shirt,” Kai said. He slung a black leather satchel over his shoulder, then patted Bronda's neck. “You don't need to go inside. Why don't you and Lenna fly up to the mountains and find yourselves something to eat? Not livestock, though. Something wild.”
Bronda squawked and clacked her jaws, then ran along the wall until she came to an area wide enough to spread her wings. She launched herself off the grass and flew toward the western mountains. Lenna followed a moment later.
Lumin waited until I had my jacket on to jump onto my shoulder. He stretched his neck in the direction of the larger dragons, then flicked his tongue. “Chirp?”
I rubbed the smooth scales under his chin and his neck relaxed. “I'm sure you'll be able to fly soon enough.”
“Three years,” Kai said, then shrugged. “That's about average. They glide until their wings are strong enough to lift them. They're not big enough to carry us until they're adolescents. That's why my family binds hatchlings with toddlers.”
Rose grabbed my hand. “Tessen, stay with me. The rest of you, come with us but keep back, out of the way.”
“Wait.” Kemi stepped in front of me. She held her palm up to offer a lemon balm leaf with a drop of honey in its center. “Eat this. I hope you like it because you're going to be eating lemon balm until you're returned to Serida.”
“Have anything for the pain?” I asked.
“Not right now. I'll be able to mix a tincture later, but it will only help you sleep and won't remove the pain.”
“Chirp?” Lumin arced his neck and stared at the leaf as I popped it into my mouth.
“Chew it well.” Kemi pinched a second leaf between her fingertips and held it near Lumin's mouth. “You too, little one. It might help delay your pain.”
Lumin snapped the leaf and swallowed it whole.
“You're lucky you weren't bitten,” I said. “He's not as feisty as he normally is, but he has still nipped at Iefyr and Nador a couple times each.”
“Maybe he trusts me,” Kemi said, her eyes shifting toward Iefyr. His ears twitched and his lips drooped into a scowl, exposing the small orcan tusks set in his lower jaw.
“Everything secure? Let's go.” Rose tugged me forward.
The Office of Appeals was only a short walk from the central gate. We ascended a set of red granite stairs to stand beneath a marble archway. Before us stood a wide door decorated with weather-bleached bone carvings.
“Deep breaths, sweetheart, as deep as you can manage. I don't know if this will work.” Rose squeezed my hand, then let go to open the heavy door.
The air inside the brightly-lit foyer smelled of musk and ginger, with a faint hint of something floral. The combination reminded me of the tiny mystic library in Jadeshire's Shade Hollow district that Shan dragged me into a week after Mom disappeared, but this was a palace and not an elderly Faeline's basement. Amber vases full of carefully-arranged dried reeds sat beneath yellow resin skull lanterns, and mosaic archways led from one segment of the architecture to the next. Rose held the door open to let the others in, then let it close and resumed her position next to me.
“Leave your weapons at the desk to your left. Do you have an appointment?” a black-haired, middle-aged Faeline woman asked from her seat behind a high counter.
We disarmed ourselves and passed our blades and bows off to the bespectacled Molluskfae at the weapons desk. Nador, Iefyr, and the elves waited near the door while Rose and I approached the reception desk. A sign hooked on the front of the desk read Riddia Dannis, Secretary to the Lord Chancellor.
I nudged Rose and whispered, “Dannis?”
Rose inhaled sharply, then stepped forward. “No, I do not have an appointment, Riddia. I need to see the person in charge of the gladiatorial tournaments. Immediately.”
The secretary pursed her lips and bobbed her head. “Rudeness is frowned upon in these halls. You look familiar. Do I know you?”
“Riddia, it's me. Rosalia. Your sister.”
“I'm afraid I have no sister by that name.” The secretary indicated toward a bench beneath a staircase. “Wait there. I will see if anyone is willing to take an audience with you and your . . . your collection of outsiders. There have been few visitors today, so someone might be willing to speak with you.”
The secretary disappeared behind a door. Rose led me under the staircase, but didn't sit down. She paced several circles, then stopped in front of me and glared at the empty desk. She rocked on her heels and crossed her arms over her chest while her tail flicked the air behind her. “That smarmy bitch knows exactly who I am. I saw it in her eyes. She's my older sister, and she knows what she's playing at. Thirty-eight years, and this is how she greets me. Our father must have told her—”
The door opened and the secretary slipped under the archway. Her nose twitched as she put her hands on her hips. “The Lord Chancellor has already heard about the commotion your homely little friend here made in the marketplace. Your arrival was expected, but no one bothered to tell me. Lucky you, you're being granted an audience with not only the Lord Chancellor, but also with King Mirabreln himself. Come sign the book, then I'll take you to the audience chamber.”
“A 'Hello, it's been a long time, sister,' would have been nice, Riddia.” Rose grabbed a pen off the counter and scrawled her name in the open book on the ledge.
“I have no sister named Rosalia,” the secretary said, scowling. “I did once, but that person no longer exists.”
“Rose looks real to me,” I said, taking up the pen. I helped Lumin rebalance on my shoulder, then neatly wrote Tessen Sylleth Lim and Lumin Goldtree beneath the angry scribble of Rosalia Dannis. I passed the pen to Kai, who signed something long and illegible, something that looked nothing like Kai Silvertree except for the starting K. I leaned close to him and whispered, “What's your real name?”
“Now is not the time for that,” Kai replied before giving the pen to Iefyr. “Bow deeply and don't look the Fae King in the eye. Don't look at his feet, either. He likes humans only slightly more than he likes elves, which is not at all.”
“Have you met him before?”
“No. I've only heard about him.”
Nador scrawled her name, then dropped the pen on the book and held her hand to her mouth. “I know who you are.”
“Not now, Nador.”
“Come on, all of you,” the secretary growled before I had the chance to ask what Nador knew. “Neither the King nor the Lord Chancellor like to be kept waiting.”
We followed her under the archway and through two sets of doors into a large chamber with a domed ceiling. At the far end of the chamber was an amber and bone throne, and upon the throne sat the largest Fae I had ever seen. His wrinkled skin was grayish and two tusks grew downward from his upper jaw, but most striking were the flag-like ears that sat on either side of his head. A crown of bone and lilies sat between those great flapping ears, complementing the intricate bonework on the lapel of his red silk robe.
“What is he?” I whispered to Rose, who was at my side again.
“Elefae.”
Of course. Elephant Fae. I'd heard of Elefae before, but I'd never expected to see one. Since I hadn't seen any others in the Faelands, I assumed that either King Mirabreln was one of the few living Elefae or the Elefae population was concentrated in Belise or another area we hadn'
t visited.
“Oh shit.” Rose muttered.
I followed her gaze to the throne dais. She wasn't staring at King Mirabreln, but instead at the elderly, orange-robed Faeline to his left, a wiry man with a neatly trimmed white beard, and graying black hair above golden eyes.
Rose hurried forward, pushing past the secretary. She stopped at the edge of the dais and knelt, her head bowed. “Your Majesty, I humbly thank you for hearing our petition. I am Rosalia Dannis of the Jade Realm. My companions and I have come to bask in your most glorious presence and to ask you to spare the life of Ragan Vale.”
The rest of us bowed, but kept several paces behind Rose. I heard a series of clicks as a dozen red clad Dogfae stepped into formation on the carpet behind us.
“Rise, child,” the King said, his broad hand raised. The Faeline leaned toward him and whispered into his ample ear. The King narrowed his eyes and lowered his hand. “We have been expecting you. Lord Chancellor Rosnar Dannis has informed me of your crime. He will speak for me now.”
Rosnar Dannis. The Lord Chancellor was Rose's father, the man who had abandoned and disowned his young daughter because she was pregnant with a half-Fae. Now she was before him for the first time in decades and his sneer indicated nothing but malice. An ominous shadow crept across the room as clouds darkened the sun. A shudder overtook my shoulders as Lumin let out a low growl.
Rosnar walked to the edge of the dais, his lip curled and his bushy eyebrows low. He glared at each of us in turn, then bared his sharp teeth and pointed his walking staff at Rose. “Human-loving whore. I knew the abomination was yours as soon as I laid eyes upon it. I told you to kill it before it had the chance to quicken and come to term, yet you birthed the monster and allowed it life. You defied our laws and you defied me. You are not my daughter, and it makes me sick that you continue to use my name. I know not why you returned to the Faelands, but you should have left well enough alone and kept your monster in the realm from whence it spawned.”
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