by K. A. Linde
But this didn’t feel like her visions. This felt like the spell was alive. Not just alive, but mad. Could spells have emotions? She’d never heard of such a thing.
“It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”
Fordham nodded. “The lore is that the people who cast the spell all perished after casting it. Its strength is gained by their sacrifice.”
“Scales,” she murmured. “How terrible.”
Fordham made a noncommittal sound. He’d been so stoic the entire morning that she hadn’t quite noticed he was in distress until that moment. That he wasn’t mad at her because of the hangover. He was taking out his own unease about coming home on her.
“Are you ready?” she asked him gently.
“Yes,” he said, straightening his shoulders.
“Fordham, it’s me. You don’t have to pretend.”
But his eyes never wavered to her face. He stared straight ahead, as if he were facing down an enemy.
“Do you think you’ll be able to come back through?”
He didn’t respond, just lifted one shoulder.
Kerrigan came to his side and stared forward. “Together?”
He tipped his head down. She closed her eyes briefly, working up the courage to take his hand. When her fingers touched his, he didn’t yank them away, just twined them together. Then, as one, they crossed the border that led into the House of Shadows.
Kerrigan opened her eyes in a new world.
She’d grown up in a palace, surrounded by lush Bryonican gardens, and then lived inside Draco Mountain since she was five with the entire city of Kinkadia as her playground. But nothing prepared her for this.
The mossy valley led to a rustic village. It sat on the edge of a lush forest, leading to a trio of peaks reaching for the sky. Purple wildflowers blossomed along the stone walk, which was just big enough for a carriage. Horses grazed in open pastures, birds trilled in the trees, and everything was fertile and blossoming. The air was colder than home, and snow still lingered on the mountains. The view was picturesque. Not at all what she had thought the House of Shadows would be like.
“Wow,” was all she could manage.
Fordham’s face was conflicted, as if he’d finally come home and he wanted to be anywhere else, all at the same time. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she breathed. “As if it were stuck in time.”
“It is. We haven’t any of the advancements of the outside world. Much is still run as it was a thousand years earlier.”
“Kinkadia must have been a huge shock.”
Fordham’s jaw tightened. She remembered the look on his face when she’d first taken him to the Square and how he’d devoured the meat pies as if he’d never tasted anything like it. He likely never had. Or when they’d gone to Carmine’s for a poetry reading. The light in his eyes. She hadn’t understood what it really meant to him until this moment.
“We should test the border,” he said instead.
Kerrigan faced the valley. Already, Tieran and Netta had vanished into the skies. If they were bound, she’d know in exactly what direction he was. But they weren’t, so she didn’t.
“Should we walk back through?”
“I’m sure you can. You’re half-Fae.”
She scowled at him. “Thanks for the reminder. I had no idea.”
She pushed forward, back through the oppressive border that held the House of Shadows within. When she looked over her shoulder, the little village had vanished. Just like that.
“Whoa,” she breathed as she stepped through. “That’s creepy.”
Fordham swallowed, not acknowledging her.
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
He glanced at her, the words painted on him in a way he rarely let her see. The worst was that he’d be stuck here all over again. The barrier would recognize him as a Fae of the House of Shadows, and he wouldn’t be allowed back out into the new world he was beginning to love.
“It’s going to let you through,” she told him.
“It is.”
She didn’t ask if he wanted her to go with him. He had to face this particular demon alone.
With a deep breath, he put one foot in front of the other and stepped back through the barrier. She thought he would disappear, as the village had done on the other side, but no, there he was. A prince in every aspect. Her heart lurched at the sight of him, the elation on his face. He’d passed the test that had been weighing on him. He could now come and go as he pleased. Whether that was because of his exile or some other new trick of the magic, it didn’t matter. He’d be going home with her to start dragon training.
He stepped back through, brushing imaginary lint off of his silk garments. All grace and power returned to his too-beautiful face. “Let’s go meet my father.”
5
The House of Shadows
Kerrigan couldn’t stop gawking as they neared the village. The path had been deceptively long. More space than she’d assumed they’d have, but not enough to truly feel free. She fought for neutral as they walked along the cobbled steps and into the town.
“The village is called Cavour,” Fordham said. “It’s ancient Fae for …”
“Songbird,” she said.
He looked at her in surprise. “Yes. I didn’t think you were fluent in ancient Fae.”
“I’m not, but …” She paused on the word and sighed. “My father used to call me his little cavour de thiery when I was very young.”
“Little red songbird,” Fordham translated. He reached up, as if to touch a lock of her tangled red hair, but seemed to think better of it and let it fall. “I’ve never heard you sing before.”
“It was a joke,” she said. “I couldn’t sing at all. He said I scared all the birds away with my racket.”
A real smile hit Fordham’s face. As if he’d forgotten for a moment where they were. Then, he quickly let it slip and faced forward. They’d both had complicated childhoods. Neither of their fathers were going to win any awards. It could have been something they bonded over; instead, he’d hidden his exile and his father’s wrath.
As they ventured deeper into Cavour, villagers appeared around every corner. Their eyes wide with surprise at seeing their prince walking among them again. A group of women washing in basins curtsied deeply at his approach. A girl no older than Kerrigan looked out at him from a second-story balcony with open want. A group of Fae children, still too young to have grown into their ears, giggled nearby, running across their path.
“Don’t bother the prince!” their mother yelled, ordering them inside.
Fordham was impervious to it all. Kerrigan didn’t know how he did it. She wanted to scoop up the little bundles of joy and thank them for being welcoming. But this wasn’t her court. She no longer had a court.
When they made it to the town square with a three-tiered fountain at the center, a woman stepped out of the masses that had now gathered and offered him a single black rose.
“We rejoice in your return, Your Royal Highness.”
Fordham nodded his head at her but made no move to take the flower. Kerrigan smiled at the woman and took it for him. The woman put her hand to her chest and backed away quickly.
“Let’s go,” he barked at her.
His voice held none of the gentleness that she had grown accustomed. Had she made some sort of faux pas by taking the bloom? It’d seemed insulting not to accept it.
But Kerrigan didn’t know the customs, and Fordham hadn’t prepared her for any of it. She tucked the black rose into her bag and hastened after him. They finally reached the end of the village, she decided it was safe to ask.
“Should I not have taken the flower?”
He shook his head. “It’s fine. I couldn’t have taken it.”
“Why?”
He still looked straight ahead at the forbidden forest that led to the base of peaks. “I will have to maintain a certain appearance through this, Kerrigan,” he said, his face like s
tone. “You may not like it.”
She gulped and nodded. The flower was the least of her concerns. “We’re going in there?”
“Yes, the court lies within the mountain. You should feel right at home.”
“Is it modeled off of Draco Mountain?”
“It predates Draco Mountain,” he told her. “When the dragons first landed in Alandria, they didn’t go south to the valley where you live. They made their home on Nineveh, now just called the Holy Mountain, and its neighboring peak, Ravinia.” He gestured before him. “This is Ravinia.”
“I’ve never heard the story told that way.”
“Of course not. Draco is now the seat of power for the Society. They wouldn’t want anyone to think that power had ever resided elsewhere.”
Only a few weeks ago, she wouldn’t have believed it. But with everything raging through the Society now, she was sure it was possible. Power corrupted; absolute power corrupted absolutely.
The path cut straight through the forest until it reached an open meadow full of tall, wild grasses, and on the other side of the meadow lay the opening to the mountain. The path across the meadow was empty of people. Not a soul wandered the area before the forbidding entrance.
“I’ve gone to battle on these fields,” Fordham told her almost absentmindedly. “Killed on these fields.”
“It doesn’t appear that blood has been spilled in some time.”
His gaze cut to her. “Let’s hope to keep it that way.”
Fear coated her scent, but she could do nothing about it. She’d never been away from her home for this long. Not since she was a child. And she was walking into certain danger. Anticipatory anxiety laced through her.
But Cyrene’s words came back to her, as they always did when she was afraid. Cyrene had won the dragon tournament five years prior and was the first person to see Kerrigan for who she truly was. Her mentor and friend. When she’d told Cyrene of her fear, Cyrene had told her that everyone was afraid, but those who mastered their fear, they were the ones who went on to do great things.
Kerrigan lifted her chin and continued forward. Fear wouldn’t hold her back. She could do anything.
A breeze blew in across the meadow, ruffling her hair. She tilted her head to the sun. She wished that something so evil couldn’t come out of something so beautiful. But that was fantasy, and she was in the real world.
The entrance was a wide stone archway, rough on all edges, as if battles had been fought against it and won. Large metal doors were thrown open invitingly with a Fae male standing in the center, awaiting their arrival.
“Prince Fordham,” a man said, stepping forward with a stiff bow. He was short in stature and round in the middle. He had flimsy blond hair and eyes like a weasel. “You have returned to tribe Charbonnet.”
“Indeed, Langdan. Are you here to prevent me access to the House of Shadows?” Fordham asked, his voice low and lethal.
Tribe Charbonnet? Kerrigan had never heard the House of Shadows called that before. Was this another term lost to time?
“Of course not, Your Highness,” Langdan said.
“Then, stand aside.”
Langdan sniffed. “First, allow me to direct you to refreshments and a place to freshen up after your long journey.”
Fordham narrowed his eyes at him dangerously. He could force his way in. This sniveling little man couldn’t stop him. Not with Fordham’s skill with a sword and magic. But that wasn’t the entrance they wanted to make either.
She cleared her throat slightly, and Langdan’s eyes found hers. His nose wrinkled at her appearance.
“Maybe freshening up would be good.”
Fordham didn’t look at her, but he stiffened at her words. Langdan’s smile grew.
“As the lady wishes,” Fordham said finally.
Langdan turned on a mark and headed into Ravinia Mountain. Fordham kept his head high, following him into the depths. Kerrigan had no other choice but to do the same.
The doors closed behind them by magic, sealing them inside the Dark Court. The way was brightly lit, and though she should have felt at ease, being in the heart of a mountain, it didn’t quite have the ambience of Draco Mountain. This felt like a tomb.
They saw no one as Langdan showed them down a set of stairs and to a bathing chamber. Unlike the hot springs under her mountain, this was a large claw-foot tub already brimming with magically heated water. Fordham was shown to his own bathing chamber. Langdan formally bowed to him as he left but said not a word to Kerrigan.
A pair of twins appeared from behind a curtain and came toward Kerrigan. They were dressed the same in beige dresses with their blonde hair pulled back into severe buns.
“I am Benton, and this is my sister, Bayton. We will be your attendants while in the House of Shadows,” Benton said.
Kerrigan frowned. She hadn’t had a bathing attendant since she was five years old. “Oh. That’s okay. I can do it myself.”
Bayton frowned and looked to her sister. “That is unnecessary. We were assigned to you.”
“Right. Just doing your jobs,” Kerrigan said. “Well, okay.”
They hurried over and stripped her down, plunging her into the heated water. Thankfully, she’d lost most of her modesty in the House of Dragons. The bathing quarters were filled with dozens of littlings at any given time. The last year, she’d actually enjoyed that only the senior Dragon Blessed had to share a space.
“So, which is which?” Kerrigan asked.
The twins looked at each other.
“I’m Bayton,” the first said. She had a small mark on her upper lip that was her only distinctive feature.
“I’m Benton.” Benton might have been just a little softer in the face, but otherwise, they were entirely the same.
“Ben and Bay,” Kerrigan said. “Got it.”
The sisters giggled, and Kerrigan joined them. Then, they straightened and sobered. Their eyes were wide with alarm.
“Apologies,” Bayton whispered.
“We didn’t mean …”
“To laugh?”
“At you, miss.”
“With me actually,” Kerrigan said. “It’s fine. I like to laugh.”
But apparently, laughing wasn’t an approved task because the twins withdrew after that. Saying nothing while they finished with the bath, dried her off, and pulled her hair up and out of her face. A fine silk dress appeared, and they slipped her into it. It was the black and silver of the House of Shadows livery that she had so admired on Fordham. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.
“Thank you,” she told the attendants.
Their eyes rounded, and they curtsied deeply before disappearing from the bathing chamber. She shook her head in confusion. They’d acted like beaten dogs.
When she stepped out of the room, Langdan was waiting for her, but Fordham was nowhere in sight.
“Where has Fordham gone off to?”
Langdan narrowed his eyes. “His Royal Highness has already retired to his chambers.”
“Right. His Royal Highness,” she said, trying not to let the words come out sour.
“If I were you, I would be sure to use the formal denotation while you’re here.”
“Of course,” she said. “I assume that you are to escort me.”
“Indeed,” he said flatly and then turned on his heel.
She resisted the urge to kick his shin. But she thought about it.
Langdan either took her on the most circuitous path around the mountain or no one lived here. They didn’t see anyone. No whispers trailed behind her. Maybe no one even knew they were here besides Benton and Bayton and this insufferable dolt.
“Here we are,” Langdan said.
Langdan rapped on the door twice, and Fordham’s face appeared a moment later.
“What?” he snarled.
Langdan straightened and gulped at the tone. “I have brought your … lady.”
Fordham arched an eyebrow. “You didn’t set up rooms for her?”
&n
bsp; Langdan looked scandalized at the suggestion. “Certainly not.”
Kerrigan’s cheeks flushed at the insinuation that they wouldn’t need separate quarters. Why else would a half-Fae walk willingly into these halls?
“Let her pass,” Fordham finally bit out. “And tell my father I am ready to see him.”
“Of course, Your Royal Highness,” Langdan said. He looked over his shoulder once before disappearing down the hallway.
Fordham jerked the door the rest of the way open. “Get in.”
Kerrigan didn’t object. How would she even begin? She felt wildly out of her depth. She stepped across the threshold into his suite of rooms. They were night and day compared to the corridors. Complete with plush rugs, tapestries and paintings covering the stone walls, and a magnificent set of black-and-silver lounging chairs. An arched doorway led to a bedchamber with a writing desk and fireplace. Only the nicest suites in Draco Mountain had fireplaces that would vent out. And she could tell by the additional set of adjoining rooms that this was probably the lushest and over-the-top room she’d ever walked into. And that was saying a lot.
Fordham snapped the door closed behind her. “Well, this is a disaster.”
“Nothing has happened yet.”
“Precisely. Langdan waited for us at the doors. He’s my father’s chief buffoon and was there to handle us. I would almost expect the bathing before an official meeting but then depositing me into my old rooms …” He shook his head. “And you …”
“Me?”
He huffed. “He didn’t give you separate rooms.”
“Noticed that. Why is that a problem? I mean, besides the obvious,” she said, her eyes drifting to the canopy bed in the other room.
“It’s about propriety,” Fordham said. He paced back and forth in the sitting room as irritation clogged the very air she breathed. “He must think you’re my concubine.”
Kerrigan choked on the word. “Is that … is that a thing here?”