Chapter Sixteen
Pain wakes me. And bright sunlight stabbing into my eyes.
My entire body hurts. The morning air is cold against my skin, which means the night before had been even colder.
One day, if there comes a time when I am not hunted, I will find someplace where it never gets cold, because the cold always makes my muscles and joints hurt the worst. As if I am a hundred years old, and not twenty-two.
But it’s not just my usual aches. My head is pounding like there’s a raucous trio of musicians taking residence there. Why do I feel so awful? And how in the dark goddess did I end up down here in the barn?
I stiffen as flashes of the night before begin to surface in my consciousness.
The ball.
Fae wine.
Something about wings?
And Daemon…
I sit up in a hurry and look around, but I am alone. Had Daemon spent the night with me, or had I been hallucinating from the fae wine?
It all seemed so vivid. We’d walked all around the gardens and over the river…my cheeks blush as I remember more than a few drunken stumbles…Daemon catching me…some of the silly things I said.
But that couldn’t have happened, right? Daemon hates me. He avoids me, and he’s standoffish, and sometimes he’s outright rude. It must have all been a crazy wine-induced dream. I shake my head. What I need is a huge breakfast and some hot tea.
I stand up, pushing past the screaming pain in my head, and I realize that the cloak I’d been sleeping on isn’t my own. My fingers tremble slightly as I lift the black cloak spread out over the hay bale. I lift it to my face and I inhale the familiar leather-man scent of it.
So, it hadn’t been a dream.
I’m not sure what to do with the cloak, since its owner is gone, so I carry it with me as I begin the long walk back to the castle.
I don’t have the energy to try to find Daemon right now and return it.
Not before I get something to eat and ease this headache and my protesting joints.
I also need to explain to Yenna and the others why I didn’t show last night.
When I enter the castle, the halls are empty and there’s a hush hanging over the place.
There aren’t any classes today, so perhaps everyone is sleeping off a headache like I was.
I shake off the uneasy feeling that tickles along my skin and make my way across the castle to the kitchen.
The smell of baking bread settles my nerves as I walk into the large room.
Yenna is there, standing over the stove as usual, and Carmeline and the others are working on braiding dough into wreaths.
“And where did you get off to last night?” Yenna asks, brows raised. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks,” I say wryly. “I was on my way here when Professor Julian insisted I come with him to the ball. And then I drank some wine, and well… I do feel pretty terrible.”
“You drank fae wine?” Brisa asks, a shocked look on her face.
“I didn’t realize I couldn’t,” I respond with a shrug and a sheepish smile.
Carmeline giggles. “Everyone knows that humans can’t drink fae wine.”
“Well, apparently not everyone.” Yenna shoots me a grin.
“I don’t suppose I can get more of that special tea?” I rub two fingers against my temple to illustrate my plight.
“I think that can be arranged.” Yenna gestures to Lyana, who is closest to the shelves with all the jarred herbs.
I take a seat at one of the stools, and Carmeline brings me a big piece of bread and some cheese. “You look like you need something in your stomach.”
“You are my favorite person in the world right now.” I shoot her a grateful smile and tear off a hunk of bread.
“Whose cloak is that?” Brisa asks, pointing.
I look down at Daemon’s black cloak slung over my lap. Color creeps over my cheeks. “One of the trainees helped me when I was…out of sorts. From the wine.”
Yenna turns and looks me up and down pointedly. “I wasn’t aware you were getting on with any of the fae.”
“I—I’m not. Or, well, I didn’t think I was. But maybe…maybe one of them doesn’t hate me as much as the others do.”
“Spit it out, girl,” Yenna says. “You’re obviously embarrassed. Who is it?”
“Daemon,” I say softly.
The room goes quiet. I can hear the popping of the flames over the stove, and even the soft simmer of whatever Yenna has in her giant pot.
“Daemon,” she echoes after the longest of moments. “I know you know that’s not a good idea, Embyr. No fae is a good idea, least of all that one.”
“I don’t think he’s as bad as everyone says he is…
he’s not trying to overthrow the Queen. I think he’s being punished for something his family did, which isn’t very fair.
” I’m not sure why my defense of him comes so easily, so naturally…
I really know next to nothing about him.
But what my head tells me and what my feelings tell me are two different things.
“And how do you know he’s not a traitor? I suppose he told you that?” Yenna lets out a bark of laughter.
My blush deepens. “Well, yes, but why bother lying to me? I’m even more hated here than he is. There’s no one within Shadow’s Keep lower in position than I am.”
Carmeline sniffs. “Are you sure about that? The fae at least know that you exist.”
“I’m telling you, it’s a very bad idea,” Yenna says, a deep frown twisting her face.
“It’s not like I was trying to get his attention,” I say sulkily.
Silence falls again for several moments, and then Lyana brings me my tea.
“Why is it so quiet here today, anyway? It seems deserted.”
The women all exchange glances.
“What?” I ask, my heart climbing in my throat.
“Last night, while the Queen’s balls were being celebrated all over Aureon, there were several border attacks,” Yenna says. “They knew all the fae would be deep in their revelry, so they struck when everyone was distracted.”
I suddenly remember what Daemon had said last night about how wrong I was about who sat on the throne. “Fae rebels? Or who?”
“That’s the rumor,” Carmeline says. “Half of Shadow’s Keep emptied out at dawn this morning to travel to the borders. There were at least three attacks, east, west, and south.”
For a moment, I wonder if that’s where Daemon has gone. But surely, they wouldn’t let him leave, especially if they thought he was a part of the rebellion.
And then another thought crosses my mind. “So, Shadow’s Keep is pretty much unguarded right now?”
“They left a handful of Guardians here, but yes. We’re mostly on our own.” Yenna looks more serious than I’ve ever seen her. “They even sent the solaris to the borders, even though they’re not full Guardians yet.”
A shiver runs across my skin. I’ve spent these last couple of months chafing at the idea of being locked within the walls of the keep, but thinking now that those walls might not be guarded anymore… I realize I don’t actually want to be back out on my own. To be hunted once again.
But surely my hunters won’t try to break into the keep, even so…
“Did Professor Julian leave as well?” I ask, as another unpleasant thought pops into my head.
Three nods confirm my fears. This is doubly bad.
Not only is the keep unprotected from outside attacks, but inside the walls I am unprotected as well.
Julian is pretty much the only one here who keeps the other fae in line.
I shudder to think what Commander Thornne or Toryn would do if they were here.
Surely, though, they’re both deployed to the borders.
I can only pray that they are.
Since there are no classes with everyone gone, I spend the rest of the day in the kitchen with the women helping them prepare food for the evening meal, albeit a much smaller one than usual.
Come evening, I eat with them and then head to my room.
I’ve discovered that Trix is fond of a certain type of berries that Yenna grows in her garden near the stables, a berry that as far as I know only grows here.
I bring a small bowl for my winged friend and bar the door behind me for the rest of the night, reading fae history texts and spellbooks until I fall asleep.
I don’t know what time it is when I’m awoken by the sensation of wings in my face. Trix is flapping violently against me, making soft mewling sounds.
Instantly I can tell that something isn’t right.
My room is completely and utterly black. No moonlight coming in the window. Not an ounce of light. I can barely even see my own hands in front of my face.
I realize then as my heart begins to pound, and everything in my body screams an alert, that the air is very thick. Like smoke, an acrid smell. But it’s not smoke made from fire, a scent I am intimately familiar with. I try to suck in a breath, and it burns.
Flailing, I try to get out of bed and move toward the door only three feet away.
But the room spins, and it feels like the night is attacking me, weighing me down.
I hear Trix squeal as I fall to my knees.
Even the impact feels fuzzy, distant, everything fading away.
I try to crawl toward the door, but my limbs won’t respond to me.
The stones of the floor are startlingly cold against my cheek.
My eyes flutter. I fight to keep them open and fail. As if from far, far away, I hear a pounding sound, though perhaps it’s just my heart, which feels like it’s exploding in my chest.
Darkness slides over me, pulling me under like a rip current in the sea.
And then I know nothing.