Chapter Fifteen
“Here, drink this,” says Yenna, handing me a steaming mug of dark liquid.
My brow wrinkles. “What is it?”
“It’s willow bark tea. It’ll help with your sore muscles.”
I’m sitting in the kitchen with Carmeline and the others, which has become a tradition of mine in the two months I’ve been at Shadow’s Keep. As often as I can, I sneak away here to spend time with… well, anyone but fae.
I take a sip of the tea and try, unsuccessfully, to hide my grimace at its bitter taste. Carmeline and Brasa giggle, and Yenna shoots me a look that tells me I’m being a baby.
“You really should tell Professor Julian about how Toryn’s treating you during sparring,” Carmeline says, her laughter abruptly shifting into a concerned frown.
I sigh. Ever since the night in the garden, Toryn has been absolutely brutal in our lessons, taking every opportunity to embarrass me in front of the other trainees, and coming just short of thrashing the hell out of me in front of everyone.
My mind flashes through the multiple times he’d slammed me into the ground during practice today.
“I won’t give him the satisfaction,” I say with a shake of my head. “Plus, that’ll make it worse. They all despise me already, and think I’m a weakling.”
“Well, you are a weakling, compared to the fae,” Yenna says.
I roll my eyes. “Gee, thanks.”
“There’s no shame in the simple truth.” She shrugs. “Julian should know better than to have you in classes with fae warriors.”
“Well, Julian seems to think his precious Guardians are all heaven-sent.” Another sigh. “But hey, my sparring skills are getting pretty good. And they weren’t half-bad before. If I ever get out of here and need to kick another human’s ass, it’s going to be easy.”
A short silence falls between us, and I sip my tea as Yenna stirs a huge pot on the stove, smoke curling up around her.
The others sit on stools around me, weaving flowers together into what looks like crowns.
No one says anything because we all know I’m not getting out of here unless Julian deigns to give me my freedom.
In the time I’ve been here, I’ve been tested dozens upon dozens of times, and have yet to show any affinity toward magic whatsoever.
But Julian seems unperturbed, his determination growing if anything.
I’m no closer to finding the truth of my past than I was the first time I walked through the gates of Shadow’s Keep.
And I’m also no closer to finding out why I was brought here.
Since the night Daemon protected me in the garden, I’ve only seen him a couple of times from a distance.
I’m certain he’s avoiding me. He’d finally admitted that he did save me that night from the hunters.
But that only brings up more questions. Why couldn’t he let me die, a mere human after all?
Why bring me here? And why pretend he didn’t know me?
Well, the last part mostly makes sense. Daemon isn’t supposed to be able to leave the castle grounds, so of course he can’t admit that he did so.
He must have been traveling nearby and seen the hunters chasing me and decided to intervene.
But Kyrn is hundreds of miles from Shadow’s Keep.
What was he doing there, and how had we made it back in such a short amount of time?
None of it made any sense. I want to talk to Daemon, to demand answers, but that’s not easy when I can’t even find him.
“What are those flower crowns for anyways?” I ask, forcing myself to think of something other than my confusing life and the green-eyed fae who altered it forever.
The women all shoot each other looks, and Yenna shrugs. “The Queen’s Liberation Ball.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, you celebrate that?” It’s the yearly anniversary of Queen Sarielle reclaiming her throne from the usurper Avonia, nearly five hundred years ago.
“No,” Yenna scoffs. “But while all the fae are distracted with their revelry, we have our own little celebration. We’ve spent days preparing the feast they’ll partake of tonight, so it’s our reward to ourselves for all the hard work.”
“You should come!” Carmeline exclaims.
Brasa and Lyana smile and nod in encouragement.
“Sure, thank you.” I offer my own smile. “Is it here in the kitchen?”
“No,” Lyana says. “We have our own special place. Out in one of the gardens.”
“We’ll show you later,” Yenna says. “Meet us here at sundown.” She sweeps her gaze up the length of me and makes a gesture with her hand. “And wear something nice.”
A few hours later, I examine myself in my small mirror.
I hadn’t really known exactly what Yenna was expecting when she instructed me to wear something nice, so I’d settled on a simple black dress that hangs to my ankles.
I rotate my hips as I stand there, feeling the strangeness of it swishing around my boots.
I’ve never actually worn a dress before.
It has short sleeves that barely extend to the edge of my shoulder, so I grab a cloak from the wardrobe.
The nights have been growing longer and colder as autumn heads toward winter.
It’s a deep green velvet with a silver clasp that looks like a crescent moon.
My hair has grown astonishingly fast over the last couple of months and now hits a bit below my collar bone in the front, which is also odd.
I feel as if a stranger is looking back at me from the oval piece of glass.
“What do you think?” I ask Trix.
The little cat-dragon lifts her head sleepily from her spot on my bed and gives a chirrup of approval before tucking her head beneath a wing and going back to sleep.
The castle is empty as I make my way down to the kitchen.
The Liberation Ball is taking place on the enormous green beyond the castle where we usually spar, and it had started late in the afternoon, so all the Guardians and trainees have already been at it for an hour or so.
I feel a thrill of delight at the idea of spending an evening without any fae, off with my own kind at a secret rendezvous.
My footsteps echo down the hallways, and through the windows I pass, I can see the twilight purple of the sky outside as the last of the sun fades, and the glittering lights strung across the green below.
It is beautiful, like the fae are beautiful, and it is not a place that I belong. If any such place exists in this world.
I am turning the final corner toward the kitchen when I abruptly come face to face with Professor Julian coming from the other direction.
“Oh!” I say, startled. “Apologies.”
Professor Julian takes in my dress and my cloak. “You’re running late to the ball, dear. Here, I’ll accompany you.”
I can feel my face fall. “No, I… I’m not going. I just came down to find some food in the kitchen. But thank you so much.”
“Nonsense!” Julian takes me by the elbow and turns me around. “There’s plenty of food at the ball.”
My heart drops into my stomach as we walk down the hall and out the main doors of the castle onto the lawn.
The lights of the ball sparkle before us like something from a dream.
Lights of all different sizes and colors hang in the air with no poles and no string.
Sheer gossamer creations shimmer in the air along with them, formed into flowers and birds and dragons and stars.
They float and spin slowly, looking almost alive.
Huge copper fire bowls dot the space, flickering with flames in unnatural shades of green and gold and purple.
The sky is dotted with clouds that almost seem to match the pastels below.
And for all I know, one of the House of Sky Incantrixes had worked their magic to make it so.
It fills me with wonder, yet I know the beauty of this place is just a facade over a core of darkness.
Professor Julian leads the way into the crowd of fae.
There are tables upon tables cascading with decadent food, and golden fountains of wine scattered about the green.
Each fountain is different. One looks like a peacock with pink wine pouring from its mouth, one looks like a goddess with pale golden wine draining from a pitcher held in her hands, and one looks like storm clouds from which wine so dark red it’s almost black bleeds into the basin below.
Performers move about the milling fae, some dancing with fire, others playing soft melodies, and others contorting their bodies around each other in rather intimate displays.
I notice that none of them are human. I am the only human in the crowd.
It’s clear from the sidelong glances I receive that I am very much not welcome at this most holy of fae celebrations.
It’s also clear it’s by design that Yenna and the others are not present here to serve food.
They do all the work, but they are not expected to be seen here.
Professor Julian seems oblivious to it, as always, as he guides me to one of the tables laden high with food, this particular one all different types of exotic fruit.
He chats animatedly and then saunters off, distracted by another table upon which stands a silver tree hung with jewel-toned combs dripping with golden honey.
Well, that’s just perfect. Now I’m alone in the midst of dozens of fae who seem to think I’m desecrating their party with my mere presence. I am not a stranger to loneliness, having lived the life I’ve lived. But here, surrounded by this huge crowd, I’ve never felt more alone in my whole life.