Orlon’s voice boomed through the hall, silencing the nobles immediately, as he recited his conclusion for the grueling meeting. Finally, everyone stood, and idle chatter arose while the high fae started to file out of the grand council chamber. Nik remained seated, as he always did, to hear the afterword from the king; his real verdict on the adjourned congregation.
Nik couldn’t stop his gaze from flashing to the captain one last time before he too filed out through the main doors. Varis turned to face them and bowed low, ever the submissive lapdog to the king. Except the captain liked to add his own flare of malevolence to the orders he was given. Nik blazed at the sight of him, relieved when Varis twisted sharply and marched from the hall. It curbed his impulse to challenge him.
A thick silence fell when everyone—even the rest of the guard—had left the room, leaving only Nik and the king still seated. Nik glanced at the great throne seating the King of High Farrow, but the ruler didn’t meet his eye. Instead, crooked fingers propped up his powerful jaw in quiet contemplation. Nik took it upon himself to rise, standing straight but not making a move to exit unless dismissed.
When the king remained within his own head, Nik opened his mouth to request leave, but Orlon’s commanding voice shook the silence. “I don’t like to be made a fool of.” The king echoed his thoughts. “And I feel Lord Hellias thinks I am just that.”
Nik couldn’t hide his hint of a frown. Nothing about the high fae in question had seemed suspicious to him, but he knew better than to debate the king’s observations. He let Orlon continue.
“Some of the humans with warrants of arrest have been conveniently slipping out of High Farrow before they can be brought in for questioning.”
Nik felt the air drop in temperature, but he focused his breathing to keep his heart steady. He knew the king’s fae ears might be able to pick up on an increase in tempo and give away his nerves.
“As you know, Hellias has the Nightwalker ability, and my spies have tracked his movements into the outer town on several occasions. It almost fits too perfectly to be coincidence.” The king’s lips twitched up cunningly. He believed he had uncovered the truth of the human disappearances all on his own. It would have been Nik’s head long ago if he really knew the truth—that he was the one warning the targeted humans to flee.
He kept his face placid, remaining stern and attentive as he had been trained to do. The king rose from his throne at last, and Nik tried not to let his size and poise intimidate him.
“You’ll understand why I raise this matter to you specifically. I need his mind searched, and I gather it is no easy task to remain undetected in another Nightwalker’s head. You are the most powerful in my service with the gift, and you have not disappointed me before.” His black orbs bore into Nik’s emerald eyes, and he raised his chin in confidence.
“It will take time, but I will find out what you seek.” Nik spoke firmly, offering a small nod of obedience—though, internally, he was cursing the male for bestowing the task. He didn’t doubt he could achieve what the king asked, but he always hated being used as a weapon for his dirty work.
“Good. Though I don’t like to be kept waiting on results. If there are traitors in our midst, I want them exposed and dealt with swiftly. Any accomplices, I want them searched as well.”
Nik flexed his fingers behind his back in irritation. “Of course, Your Majesty. Though it will require great strength and focus to enter another Nightwalker’s subconscious without detection. I will have to be well rested between tries.”
The king hummed his disappointment, which irked Nik further. “A pity the Nightwalking ability has such…restrictions.”
It wasn’t a direct insult as there was no one more qualified for the job than Nik and no ability that could get him the information he sought quicker. But Orlon’s lack of patience and understanding of what it took, and what Nik was risking for it, riled him to no end.
Nik already knew Lord Hellias was innocent of what the king suspected, but he still planned to carry through with the task in the hope of uncovering something that would satisfy the king’s quest to bring down the perpetrators. Selfishly, he needed to sway suspicion from himself too. He wasn’t as foolishly naïve as the lord who clearly lacked the competency to cover his tracks. Nik knew of a labyrinth of tunnels that ran under the inner city and led out just beyond the wall. From there, he was aware and stealthy enough to remain perfectly incognito and evade the king’s secret spy force in the outer town of Farrowhold. He almost felt as if Hellias deserved to be caught for his amateur attempt at discretion.
“If that was all, Your Majesty…” Nik said, desperate for release from the formal setting.
The king didn’t bother to respond with words, simply raising a lazy hand in dismissal. Nik didn’t take it personally; the High Farrow ruler was never one for pleasantries.
He stepped away from his chair and strolled for the exit. In the wide, bright hallways, he found himself immune to the pristine glamour and luxury of the castle. In fact, despite its grand size and maze of hallways and passages, Nik had started to feel suffocated within its confines. The inner city wasn’t much different. It was why he had started to venture into the humble dwellings of the outer town some months ago. He found it somewhat comforting to walk inconspicuously among the humans and see how their lives in the unruly brown town fared in comparison to the fae inside the gleaming white city. The contrast was stark, and he couldn’t shake the guilt of living in such prestige while the humans were cast out to live impoverished lives. So he’d taken to Nightwalking through them, to offer those he could get to on time a chance to flee rather than be executed for something that wasn’t entirely their fault.
Though the king sent out fae patrols to the towns, they were sparse and had lax protection orders. Nik always believed he could do more to prevent Valgard from infiltrating the kingdom and preying upon the innocent human citizens, terrorizing them for information. The prospect of another dawn of carnage like the great battles shook him to his very core. Whenever he approached his concerns on the matter, Nik was immediately shut down by his superior, the ruler of High Farrow.
His mind was too preoccupied to dwell on the matter. Saving the convicted humans had come to a halt when he’d stumbled upon the impossible; discovered an anomaly that challenged the order and hierarchy of the species—or, rather, she found him.
“You’re a hard male to get a moment with these days.”
The eloquent voice of the king’s ward didn’t come as a surprise. He’d already slowed his brisk walk when he picked up on her quiet approach from behind. Nik cast her a sidelong smirk as she fell into step with him.
“Have you been missing me, Tauria?”
Her golden-tanned cheeks flushed a shade of rose at his teasing response. Rolling her eyes, she looked away. Nik took the moment to admire her beauty. The tone of her skin was radiant against the green of her gown, the rich emerald a proud reminder of who she was; where she came from.
Her standing as the king’s ward was only a title to keep her safe, and High Farrow wasn’t her native home. It was known to everyone on both sides of the wall that Tauria Stagknight was the sole heir to the Fenstead throne and had fled here over a century ago when her homeland was invaded and conquered by the merciless Valgard. A day he knew still haunted the female behind her mask of resilience.
The King of High Farrow wasn’t the most loved ruler, not since those dark battles that had turned his heart. Since then, he’d ruled with little mercy and ruthless punishment to those who even slightly displeased him. One of the last acts of kindness Nik was grateful for among the king’s wickedness was his taking in of the terrified Fenstead princess who’d fled to their doorstep as the only surviving royal from the Kingdom of the Stag.
“If I have to suffer the company of court ladies and imperious lords one day longer, I’m going to go insane,” Tauria complained, her bottom lip almost falling into a pout.
Nik chuckled softly. “And I suppose you
want me to help you get out of it?”
A sheepish smile tugged her lips in response.
Nik felt guilty then. That he’d been so absent these past few weeks and had failed to check in on his friend. Over the century of her living within the castle of High Farrow, they’d become very close companions and confided in each other about everything. Without her knowing of his antics in the town, it twisted his gut to think she might believe he didn’t care. In truth, he couldn’t tell her what he’d been up to with the humans because he cared. He cared immeasurably for her safety, so he wouldn’t risk her having any knowledge of his treason and possibly be implicated if he were ever to be caught.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around,” he said quietly, dropping the amusement. She gave him a look of understanding that pained him. He hated keeping things from her. “How about we take the horses out tomorrow?”
Tauria beamed wide, the smile creasing her hazel eyes. It instantly brightened up Nik’s mood.
“You know I always beat you at horse racing,” she gibed with a nudge of her elbow.
“In my defense, I never know we’re in competition until you announce you’ve won. With forewarning, I might get the chance to put in a little effort.”
The princess barked a laugh. “As if! You just can’t stand to be bested by a female.” She teased the word.
Nik offered a crooked smile but felt hideously guilty another female surfaced to mind in that moment—one he wished he could tell Tauria about.
Faythe. The name struck him with both thrill and fear. Not for what she was capable of, but for the dire fate that could befall her in the hands of the king. A human girl. A Nightwalker! The thought was inconceivable, yet Nik had a daunting feeling he was yet to scrape the surface of what truly lay dormant beneath her beauty and innocence.
Chapter 14
Faythe lay sprawled across the flat of a rooftop, basking under the intense heat of the midday sun. She finished the final bite of her apple and tossed the core, not bothering to check if there was anyone passing below.
Two weeks had passed since her last night in the woods with Nik. She’d only seen him when he invaded her subconscious on a couple of nights to check she wasn’t self-destructing or doing any more unwitting Nightwalking. But they never spoke of anything else, and his visits were quick before she pushed him out.
It wasn’t that she was upset or angry with him, but since she’d learned what she needed to do to prevent her mind from wandering at night, she didn’t see reason to delay the inevitable. His status would never allow them to be friends, and she had no desire to explore her ability any further since she had absolutely no intention of using it—ever.
Mercifully, she had managed to keep herself in her own mind, finding the darkness Nik had tried to explain that pulled her into blissful, deep rest every night. She hadn’t lingered in her subconscious either to explore what she could do with her own memories and imagination.
Marlowe and Jakon had spent many evenings together since she’d played Cupid, and it brought her joy to watch their relationship slowly blossom. Faythe found release and comfort through the swinging of her sword most nights, but she wasn’t always alone. Occasionally, Ferris would happen to be passing by and offer to be her sparring partner, which usually meant a colorful vocabulary of curses on his part when she bested him time and time again, much to Faythe’s amusement.
She’d also spent a lot of time alone with Marlowe, finding immense joy in the company of a new female friend. It was a different kind of comfort she was missing with Jakon, being able to chat about topics he would have no interest in, such as clothes, the men Faythe found attractive in town, and other harmless gossip. It brightened up her days.
Everything seemed normal, as if she didn’t harbor a deadly secret none of her companions knew about. She dared to hope that would be the end of it and she could continue to live her perfectly plain and ordinary life as she had been before she knew anything of her ability.
She had the day off today, but Jakon did not. She’d had a lie-in and taken extra time to laze around before deciding to get ready and make something of her day. She’d pottered about the streets, gushing over clothes and accessories she’d never be able to afford—at least not on her pitiful salary. The miserable feeling made her decide she would one day find a more rewarding job for herself, a purpose, and something to bring in more coin so they could live a little better. She didn’t have many skills without a sword in her hand, but perhaps she could apprentice in some trade.
Faythe sat up groggily, the midday sun making her seriously drowsy despite her extra-long rest. Standing, she made her way over to the edge of the roof and shimmied herself down the drainpipe, landing with a quiet thud in the empty alley. Deciding on a destination, she strolled lazily, in absolutely no hurry to do anything at all.
When she eventually approached the blacksmiths, she spotted Marlowe in the front of the workshop intently examining something through a magnifying eyepiece.
“Find anything cool?” Faythe asked in way of greeting.
Marlowe looked up and flashed her a grin. “Magestone,” she said, holding up the iridescent black sliver of a rock. “They say it’s the one material in the realm that can render a fae…well, mortal, I suppose. Diminish their strength, speed, abilities, and the like,” she said casually.
Faythe’s interest piqued, and she walked over to examine the rock closer. Marlowe held it out to her, and she took it in her palm. It was surprisingly ice-cold. Faythe held in the urge to flinch at the contact, in stark contrast to her clammy hand.
With a glance behind her, she said, “Should you really be flaunting this out in the open if it’s possible that’s all true?”
Marlowe waved a hand. “It’s just legend now. No one’s seen a significant quantity of magestone in very long time. Apparently, it used to be a component in the Farhin Mountains of Lakelaria, but it was mined and destroyed many centuries ago. All that remains is the occasional useless shard.” Marlowe snickered. “What could be worse for a fae than being made to feel like a human?” She teased the last word.
Faythe examined the rock. Colors bounced off its flat surface at all angles.
“Keep it if it interests you so much. I found it in a pile of scrap metal I bought off a merchant from Olmstone last week.” She leaned back in her seat. “It’s pretty though. I could make it into a pendant for you if you’d like?”
At the offer, Faythe smiled. “Thanks, but it’s yours. Make a pendant for yourself. Or sell it. Could be worth a small fortune if it’s as rare as you say.” She gave the stone back to her.
Marlowe shrugged. “Perhaps.” She pocketed it in her apron. “What brings you my way today?”
Faythe perched on the table in front of her. “Can’t I come see a friend without wanting anything?”
“Of course you can. But I don’t finish for at least another couple of hours,” Marlowe said, abruptly standing and retreating into the back. Something Faythe had quickly come to learn about the blacksmith was that she could hardly sit still for a minute and would always look for something to occupy her hands and mind.
Faythe followed her. Behind the curtain was where they kept the furnaces and heavy equipment for bigger projects. Marlowe picked up a blade and began to sharpen it. Faythe winced at the loud scraping of steel but watched her work in admiration.
After a moment, she asked over the noise, “How is it you know about the magestone?”
“They’re called books, Faythe. You should try picking one up sometime.”
Faythe rolled her eyes at the playful gibe, but knowing her friend probably knew a lot about ancient legends and beings, she asked, “What do you know about the…Nightwalkers?” As much as she tried to convince herself she was content with not knowing anything else other than what she needed to keep control and survive, Faythe couldn’t help the burning curiosity that there may be things she was yet to discover about her ability.
Marlowe paused, the space going silent
as she cocked an eyebrow at her. “No more than what everyone else knows, I suppose,” she said. Faythe wasn’t sure if it was disappointment or relief she felt. “Although,” Marlowe continued as if she’d just remembered something relevant, “I did read something once about a higher kind of Nightwalker.”
Faythe straightened, her attention piqued.
Marlowe set the blade down, turning to lean with crossed arms against the bench. Her face contorted with concentration as she tried to recall the details, and then she said, “I mean, none have been known to exist for centuries, if they ever did at all, but the book I read told a legend of those who could enter both an unconscious and conscious mind. Complete telepathic abilities and absolutely lethal.” She shuddered. “The Nightwalkers are bad enough. Just be glad we don’t have their superior mythical ancestors among us.”
At Faythe’s blanched look, Marlowe laughed. “Relax—it’s just an old scary story,” she teased, spinning around to resume her work.
“Indeed,” Faythe said quietly.
Her thoughts whirled. Perhaps Nik would know more; would be able to confirm if such an ability did exist—in his three centuries of existence at least.
“Why do you ask?”
Faythe cleared her throat and found something to fidget with. “Just curious. I wonder what other fae abilities there are,” she said, hopeful it came off as a bored question.
When Marlowe showed no sign of suspicion, Faythe internally sighed with relief. “There are quite a few: elemental, shades, shapeshifting…” She went on to list a few more before adding, “But gifted fae are fairly rare. Most of them are just as normal as you and me, save for the immortal strength, speed, and grace.” She huffed.
Faythe forced a breathy laugh. She wasn’t normal. Would her friend be disgusted if she found out what invasive ability she possessed? The thought of any of her friends looking at her with hatred or disappointment made her stomach sink.
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