Rising Silver Mist

by Olivia Wildenstein

  A trumpet sounded, knocking Ace right out of my mind. I stumbled against the pile of books next to the armchair. They crashed onto the floor.

  “Your ride has arrived.”

  I crouched and gathered the books with trembling hands. Veroli knelt beside me, laying a palm on my arm. “I’ll take care of this.”

  Nodding, I stood back up.

  “From the sound of it, it must be a royal runa. Only royal runas can make fanfare.”

  Royal? Did that mean Ace had come to get me?

  38

  Middle Month

  I took baby steps toward the door. When I drew it open, my breath tangled in my throat and made me sputter. It wasn’t Ace, but Veroli had been right. It was a member of the royal family who’d come.

  Angelina stood next to what looked like a gondola basket. “Morning to you, Catiri.”

  I ground my teeth so tight the enamel was sure to chip. “It’s Catori.”

  She smiled brightly. “Oops.”

  When I hadn’t moved from the doorway, she patted the basket that rested on the back of a flying male faerie.

  “Linus asked me to fetch you.”

  I still didn’t say anything.

  “If we don’t hurry, we’ll miss the air joust tournament. I have bets on who’s going to win, so I don’t want to miss it.” Her too-perfect smile was still intact. “Come along.”

  I unglued the soles of my bare feet from the wooden boards and walked toward the runa. Carefully, I climbed inside of it.

  Angelina gracefully soared into the basket beside me.

  “You’re not flying?”

  “Ace doesn’t want me to overexert myself.” She patted her protruding stomach.

  I wanted to ask if it was actually Ace or Linus who’d asked her to take it easy, but it wasn’t any of my business. Besides, I shouldn’t care.

  Our faerie hot air balloon took flight. I clutched the ochre edges of the basket, fingers whitening as we descended. Calimbors rose around us, and soon their crowns melded with the lilac sky. Green-clothed bodies stood on the spirals wrapped around the thick trunks, almost indistinguishable amidst the spots of moss mottling the bark.

  Angelina waved at them like a Miss America contestant, her plastic smile in place. “It’s a boy, you know.” Her lips barely shifted as she spoke.

  “What’s a boy?”

  “Why, my baby, of course.” She gave a little laugh. “Don’t you read human magazines?”

  Right.

  “Well it’s a boy, which means I’m carrying a future monarch. I was thinking of calling him Kingston. What do you think?”

  “I think it sounds Jamaican.”

  She lifted her chin up haughtily. “Well I like it. And Linus likes it.”

  “Does Ace like it?”

  She fixed her wide orangey-brown eyes on mine. “He’ll have to.”

  “Fathers don’t get a say in Neverra?” I made sure my expression was curious and not taunting. I didn’t need to make an enemy out of Angelina. It was surely wiser to make a friend of her.

  Her smile morphed into a brighter one. “They do. When their wives allow them one.”

  “I thought women had to do everything men asked in Neverra.”

  “Women like you, yes, but not women like me. I’m a royal caligosupra. Only Linus and Ace can ask things of me. They are my only superiors.”

  “So they could have a say in naming your child?”

  “They have more important things to bother with than naming children.”

  The runa dove into the cottony mist, which wrapped around my bare skin like wet hair.

  I rubbed my arms once we’d passed through it. “What about Addison Wood?”

  Angelina squinted one of her eyes. “What about Addison Wood?”

  “Isn’t she higher on the food chain?”

  “She is, but the only thing that interests her is chewing mallow, so she’s out of it most days.” Angelina brought her lips closer to my ear. “There’s not much of a mind left in that head of hers. Mallow is extremely addictive, almost as addictive as Daneelie scales.”

  A chill swept over my skin, colder than the strands of mist that still clung there.

  “But unlike mallow, Daneelie scales don’t screw up your head in the long term.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Have you ever tried them?”

  I shook my head.

  “I’ll get you some today. An early wedding present.”

  “I’m— Thank you but I’m not interested.”

  She tsked. “That’s because you’ve never tried them.” She went back to waving at the curious bystanders crowding the spirals. Suddenly, smears of sapphire blue broke the surrounding gray-greenness. It took another couple seconds to realize that those smears were flags. They flapped over an enormous canopy woven from flowery vines and leaves.

  The basket veered to the right so suddenly that Angelina snapped her neck up and bit out Faeli words that I suspected were as unpleasant as they sounded. Our faerie “driver” murmured excuses, his eyes cutting to the spot we’d dodged.

  A gilded birdcage larger than our runa flitted in the air next to us. A body was sprawled inside. Gray hair curled around the prisoner’s limp shoulders, fluttered in the nippy breeze like the leaves on the pergola below. “Is that a…a…?”

  “A cupola? Yeah.” Angelina pinched her lips. “It’s in such poor taste to have it floating around so close to the marketplace during Middle Month, subjecting caligosupra to the spectacle. At least the prisoner is unconscious. Their screams can be really grating.” She sighed deeply. “I bet it was Lyoh’s idea. She’s more beast than woman if you ask me. Sometimes I think she’ll turn into a dragon permanently.”

  I scanned the dim sky for a black-winged creature. None appeared.

  “She doesn’t like me, but she doesn’t like anyone, so I don’t take it personally. She doesn’t even care about her own son, although now that he shook off Lily, who between you and me, was such an ankle-grabber, he rose in her esteem. Don’t get me wrong, Ace’s sister was plenty nice, but so freaking desperate. Men aren’t attracted to desperation. I tried to tell her, but she wasn’t interested in my advice.”

  I would’ve smirked at that last part, had I not been so peeved by Angelina’s use of the past tense. I didn’t want to hear Lily spoken of as though she were already dead.

  “Anyway, since he disposed of her,” Angelina droned on, “even though she was his ticket into the royal family—the draca seems to appreciate her son more.”

  The ground rose beneath us fast.

  Soon the tiny forms next to the leafy big top became bodies. The pinheads became upturned faces. I recognized Linus. He sat in a golden runa flanked by four golden-eyed guards. He smiled widely when he spotted us. And then he turned and spoke in Faeli to someone on the ground. It took me a minute to make out the body lurking in the shadows of the marketplace. Once I recognized it, I hardly noticed anything or anyone else.

  Unlike his father who hovered several feet in the air, Ace had his feet firmly planted on the muddy, mossy ground.

  Our “driver” lowered us further, then leveled off behind Linus. I’m not sure what inspired me to hop out of the runa—probably my desperation for firm ground—but I jumped out as soon as I deemed the ground close enough. A collective hiss echoed around me.

  “Catiri?” Angelina yelped, shooting to the edge of the basket.

  I shot my gaze up to her face. Her cheeks were pale and her plump mouth was parted wide. “What?”

  “You’re not supposed to wade on the marsh.”

  A chill went up my spine. Cold green muck sucked at my feet. Was it like quicksand? Would I vanish into the belly of Neverra? Maybe it would spit me right into the Hareni… Would that be so bad? “Why not?”

  “Because it’s dirty,” she hissed.

  Ace walked out of the shadows. “To better hunt faeries, hunters rolled themselves in mud. So I doubt she’ll mind a little dirt.”

  More gasps.

  I na
rrowed my eyes at Ace. Was he trying to get a rise out of me or out of his future wife?

  “You could set a better example, son,” Linus said.

  “I would not want to rise higher than you, father.”

  A crushing silence enveloped the large crowd. Someone cleared their throat. That someone was Gregor. He dangled in midair next to the lucionaga shielding the king. “The jousters are ready to begin, Massin.”

  Trumpets sounded around us, their sound building to a crescendo as two silver-cloaked men flew over my head, stopping just before Linus. They bowed deeply, then nodded to each other and flew dozens of yards away.

  As the trumpet sound petered out, Ace said, “How was your night, Catiri?”

  Keeping my gaze on the silver-cloaked faeries, I whispered, “Shut up.”

  Ace chuckled. The faeries squared off and angled their torsos parallel to the ground. Arms outstretched like Superman, they soared toward one another.

  “So what are the rules of this game?”

  “A fight to the death.”

  I spun toward Ace. “Death?”

  His blue eyes were soft on my face. “The first to asphyxiate the other with dust can ascend over the mist and become a caligosupra.”

  “They kill each other for status?”

  “Most people would rather tread sky than mud.”

  Goosebumps coated my skin as the crowd cheered. I tipped my head back up as one of the faeries performed a backflip to get away from the other.

  “I’d advise you not to watch, little hunter, but I wouldn’t be so presumptuous as to think I knew what was best for you.”

  Reproach colored his tone. I folded my arms in front of my chest. The air was chilly under the mist, and although Ace was standing close to me, the fire burning beneath his skin barely warmed mine. His eyes traced the tiny bumps on my skin.

  Shrieks followed by laughter rose from the crowd. I looked back at the jousting faeries. Grappling against each other, they twirled and whirled in the air. Suddenly they came apart again.

  I was about to ask Ace how long it would last, but he was no longer next to me. I shivered at the iciness that enveloped my body in his absence. I’d been wrong. His fire had warmed my skin.

  I concentrated on the fight overhead, wincing when one faerie plummeted from the sky and landed with a wet thud against the ground. For several minutes, the man didn’t stir. I bit down on my lip as the other faerie shot straight for him, a spear clutched in his hand. Where he’d procured himself a weapon was beyond me. He tossed it at the fallen faerie. The fae rolled away, and the spear broke into a million glimmering pieces. The particles streamed back toward the faerie who’d wielded them and vanished inside his palm.

  The spear was made of dust!

  Something soft settled over my shoulders. White fur.

  “Veroli should’ve dressed you better,” Ace grumbled.

  From the corner of my eye, I noticed Gregor watching us. I stepped away from Ace. “Thank you,” I murmured, wrapping the heavy pelt tighter around me.

  I looked back at the spectacle that enchanted the large audience. A small bird with a sharp beak shot out of the other faerie’s palm.

  “Is the bird made of wita?” I thought I knew the answer, but wanted confirmation. And maybe it was my way of telling Ace I saw more than shimmery particles.

  Ace didn’t respond right away. “You see a bird?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “I’ve always been able to see the shape of wita. I didn’t think you—” He stopped talking.

  My throat felt dry. I swallowed, and my saliva wet the sides of my throat, but didn’t soothe it.

  “You can really see a bird?”

  I nodded.

  His dark eyebrows slanted over his nose, and then his gaze dropped to my exposed neck, and then lower, to the fur.

  “I think Neverra did something to my sight,” I finally managed to say.

  “Maybe it’s stifling your hunter side.”

  I chewed on my bottom lip. That didn’t sound like a good thing. If anything, that made me more vulnerable.

  Ace pushed my fur cape away and wrapped his fingers around my forearm, which made my brand burst to life. “You don’t feel warmer.” His palm glowed, yet he didn’t seem to notice it. “Has anything else changed since you arrived?”

  A great uproar had us both looking back at the fight. One of the faeries, the one with the backside covered in green muck, turned as gray as a storm cloud before breaking into thousands of glittery pieces. I winced, squeezed my eyes shut, and turned away. Laughter and clapping erupted around me. Then the trumpets sounded again.

  Ace’s hand, still wrapped around my arm, tightened. And then his long thumb stroked my skin. “It’s over.”

  Tears pricked my throat. “I think I’m going to throw up.” I lunged away from him just as a wave of nausea hit me dead center. I gritted my teeth and breathed slowly, forcing back the acrid bile. I managed the extraordinary feat of not throwing up. When I straightened up, Ace, who’d fisted my hair, let go, and my long locks settled against my cold, cold cheeks.

  “And here I thought hunters took great pleasure in seeing faeries explode into ash.” Linus’s voice snaked over to me, edged in a mirth that made my stomach roil all over again.

  My horror-stricken gaze struck his ruddy face.

  He laughed. “Why don’t you come and sit in my runa for the visit of the marketplace? You’ll see better from up here.”

  Ace stiffened next to me.

  “I don’t want to seem ungrateful, Massin, but my human legs would prefer walking. Would it be all right if I remained below?”

  “You are free to do what you like, but try not to brush against the caligosubi. They might rub off on you.” His words elicited delight from his courtiers. “I suppose my son can fend them off. He’s talented at keeping people away.”

  “I try my best, father.” He sent his father a jagged smile.

  Nonplussed by his son’s retort, Linus clapped, and the faerie carrying his runa dashed into the enormous pergola that stretched two stories high. A procession of runas followed. Only Gregor hung back, hovering mere feet away from Ace and me. He observed us a moment, but then Linus called him, and the wariff dashed to the front of the convoy.

  “You don’t have to hang back,” I told Ace.

  “And risk you brushing against caligosubi? Skies forbid that should happen.”

  I smirked, but then I didn’t. “After what I said yesterday, why are you even talking to me?”

  Ace glanced at me, his gaze as warm and soft as the fur cloak around my shoulders. He dipped his face toward my ear. “Because you want me to be angry with you and leave you alone.”

  I whipped my gaze up to his.

  His blue eyes gleamed in the darkness of the leafy canopy. “I still don’t understand why you’re so desperately trying to rile me up and push me away, but don’t think for a minute I’m not working on finding out.”

  “Ace—” I started but stopped. If I told him to stop trying to figure it out, it would be a confession, and confessions had to wait until my marriage or I wouldn’t be able to bring his sister home.

  But what if he guessed? Would Cruz revoke his bargain? Perhaps he was twisted enough to do that.

  “There’s nothing to figure out.” I stomped ahead of him, trying to put space between us.

  He grabbed my arm through the fur and spun me around.

  I shook him off. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t touch me.”

  “Once upon a time you couldn’t get enough of my touch.”

  I swallowed hard, his palm glowing with my drumming heartbeats. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  A shadow crossed his face, but then was gone. “Why’s your heart beating so fast then?”

  “Because I’m afraid.”

  “Of me?”

  Of how my body reacts to yours. Of how I feel around you. “Yes.”

  His nostrils flare
d. “I can work with fear. What I can’t work with is indifference.”

  “Ace, I’m taken. Forget about me. Live your life.”

  “You’re in no place to give me advice about my life.”

  I shut my eyes, opened them again.

  “Besides, I just want to be your friend. Nothing more.”

  “Why do you even want to be my friend?”

  “Because Lily told me to watch over you.”

  Lily…

  Her name brought back thoughts of home. “Are the hunters…awake?”

  Tendons showed through his taut neck as he turned his face away from mine. Around us, green-cloaked faeries stood expectantly behind long slabs of stone on which were arranged a hodgepodge of shiny and colorful wares.

  “Ace?” I touched his hand to get his attention.

  His eyes found mine again.

  “Did Cruz and Gwenelda wake them?”

  “Yes.”

  Time stopped. Noise vanished. The world around me became one great puddle of color. “Is my father…is he…?”

  “Your father’s unharmed. He won a cruise in the Caribbean a couple days after you left.”

  “He did?” I croaked.

  Ace smiled.

  “He must be in heaven. He loves boating so much.”

  “I know.”

  A tear slid down my cheek. “Did he really win a cruise or did you—”

  “Does it matter?”

  “It matters to me.”

  “Will I be in your good graces again if I said I’d bought him a ticket?”

  “You were never in my bad graces.”

  His smile diminished. “Could’ve fooled me.”

  My bottom lip trembled, so I bit it.

  Ace’s hand arced toward my face but stopped midway. He curled his fingers and brought his fist back at his side. “And when your father returns to Rowan, he won’t even realize anyone dug up his backyard. Kajika promised to return the site to its original aspect, and Lily is overseeing it.”

  My heart leaped with gratitude.

  “We better start moving, or you’ll sadden many excited caligosubi. Being able to show off their craftsmanship on Middle Month thrills them almost as much as when they get their two days of sunshine.”