Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Is everything alright?” Cillian asks when I get back to the table.
I nod and force a smile. “Yes. Fine.”
He raises his brows. “A friend of yours? From House Aeternas?”
“I wouldn’t say friend,” I manage to get out through gritted teeth, my fingernails pressing into my palms. Even after walking all the way back to the tent, I’m still shaken up by what Daemon had said to me.
“Daemon is another one of my students at Shadow’s Keep,” Professor Julian says. “He has, ahhh… an unfortunate family situation. Remember our discussions about that, Embyr?” He shoots me a look that is as close to stern as he’s probably capable of.
“Yes, Professor,” I mumble. He had warned me. And I’d chosen to ignore him. It seems my self-preservation instincts are getting a bit rusty.
“Speaking of family,” Julian continues, “I’d very much like to meet yours.”
I pause halfway through lifting my goblet of ale to my lips. “Um… that’s probably not the best idea.”
“I’ll back my cousin up on this one,” Cillian says. “Our grandparents could give competition to House Aeternas in terms of truly unfriendly dinner conversation.”
Professor Julian chews a mouthful of food thoughtfully and then wipes his mouth on his napkin before responding.
“Be that as it may, I’d like to meet the family of the mystery girl who showed up on my doorstep with no memories of her past. I’m very curious as to how they found you after all this time.
” He levels another intense gaze at me. “After all, we have spent the last few months trying to regain your memories and your magic. It’s a missing piece of the puzzle that bears examination, don’t you think? ”
He’s not wrong, but the idea of striking up conversation with my grandparents is as close to verbal torture as one can get. I nod and force myself to eat, though my appetite is now completely gone.
Cillian and Julian strike up a robust conversation through the rest of dinner.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people with such a gift for chatting in my entire life.
I don’t bother trying to keep up with them.
I’m sick to my stomach about what happened with Daemon, and I’m even more nauseated at the idea of trying to introduce my grandparents to Julian.
If I get lucky, perhaps they’ll leave dinner early.
Or maybe they’ll outright refuse to talk to him.
But as people begin to finish the main meal and head back through the other tents for more drinks, or to smoke, my grandparents join the crowd and Professor Julian gestures for us to follow them.
We wait until they’ve refilled their wine, and then, to my great relief, Cillian says, “I’ve got this, cousin. You can relax.”
He approaches our grandparents with a broad smile and impossible-to-dim charisma. “Beloved grandparents, I must introduce you to one of Embyr’s professors from Shadow’s Keep, Julian Eimyrys. He is the Shadow Guardians’ Commander of Spells.”
I cringe, expecting a sour response, but they turn to Julian with pleasant smiles, even offering small nods of deference.
I realize that despite his befuddled academic appearance, Julian is in fact one of the leaders of the most powerful organization in Aureon.
From their demeanor and the looks on their faces, my grandparents are eating up this introduction and the chance to get in close with someone so high up within the fae royal chain.
My eyes roll before I can stop them, but only Cillian notices, and he shoots me a quick grin.
“I am beyond delighted that Embyr has been reunited with her family,” Julian says after initial pleasantries are exchanged.
“I told her when she wound up outside the gates of Shadow’s Keep that I would do everything in my power to help her regain her memories.
And now you’ve arrived out of nowhere… such a happy story. ”
I suppress a wince. My secret is out in the open now, if they hadn’t already figured it out.
My grandmother smiles, sweeping her gaze over me. The warmth doesn’t reach her eyes. “Indeed. We’re so grateful.”
“You’d been searching for her for what, eight years?” Professor Julian asks, not seeming to notice.
“Aye,” says my grandfather. “Eight long years.”
There’s a slight burr to his tone, and my grandmother pats his arm in a placating gesture. “My husband worried more and more with each year that passed. We were so relieved to catch wind that a girl fitting our Ariana’s description had been taken in by the Guardians.”
Ariana? I blink. Of all the things I’d wondered over all these years, my given name had certainly been one of them. But now, hearing it spoken aloud by my family, it feels wrong. Like a puzzle piece that doesn’t fit, or the note of a song sung off-key.
“You must have an extensive network,” Julian says pleasantly. “We Guardians tend to keep the news of what goes on behind our walls just that… behind our walls.”
My grandmother lets out a small musical laugh. “I can’t even remember who we heard that from…lucky coincidence. Fate clearly wanted us brought back together again.”
“Ahh, fate. Yes.” Julian nods. “Always popping up when you least expect it.”
“It has certainly bitten me a few times,” Cillian adds with a chuckle. “Though I will agree that this time it was benevolent, reuniting me with my dearest cousin.”
“You have plenty of other cousins,” my grandfather says gruffly. “Whom I doubt would appreciate your favoritism of the one who wasn’t even here the last third of your lifetime.”
Cillian merely laughs, and I wonder if anything bothers him ever.
“Speaking of cousins,” Julian says, “I’m always fascinated to speak with humans to learn more about their magic…
some do not have the gift at all, but others are quite proficient in it.
Does House Harkyn have many gifted in the art?
Is there a particular line of spellwork the bloodline tends to inherit? ”
My grandmother doesn’t respond right away, taking a very slow sip of her wine.
When she finally looks back up at Julian, her expression has dimmed somewhat, a tightness in her smile.
“Not many in our line possess the gift of magic. It does appear every few generations. Usually some form of elemental magic.”
“Fascinating,” Julian says, his eyes bright. “I do wonder why it skips some and appears in others. Magic can be so finicky.”
“Yes,” she responds. “Yes, it certainly can.” Her eyes sweep over mine again, and there’s something in her gaze that makes me shiver.
“I would love to look at your family tree,” Julian says, seeming oblivious to the change in mood. “If you’d allow me.”
“Perhaps another time,” my grandmother says, her cool smile back in place. “My husband needs to head back to our tent to get some rest.”
My grandfather shoots her a look from beneath furrowed bushy brows but says nothing to contradict her.
“Delightful,” Cillian says. “I knew everyone would get along fabulously. So glad I could make the introduction.”
“Quite.” My grandmother offers a small bow to Professor Julian. “We bid you goodnight.”
They turn and depart, and once beyond the tent, are joined by their guards, who escort them across the valley.
“Can I get you another glass of wine?” Cillian asks Professor Julian.
“That sounds lovely.”
“And you, cousin?”
I shake my head. “I think I’m also ready to rest for the night. It’s been a long day.”
“That it has,” Cillian concedes. “Make sure the guards escort you.”
“Of course.” I say my farewells to them both and head out into the night, summoning several of the guards to accompany me.
As I walk back down the length of the valley, each step seems heavier than the one before.
In the last three days I’d been taken against my will on a crazy twenty-four-hour cross-country journey, met my incredibly unpleasant grandparents for the first time in memory, and participated in my first tournament challenge.
Not to mention that Daemon, the one person I thought might be an ally and a friend, now hates me and considers me his enemy.
All of that, paired with the fact that I’m very unlikely to survive the next few weeks.
I want to go to sleep and wake up a hundred years from now, when all of this is over.
I’ve just reached the edge of the tent village that glows between the jagged peaks of the valley when a group of fae step out from behind one of them.
Toryn, and the same group of fae he’d paired up with during the first challenge. My heart climbs into my throat, pulsing there like a star.
“Embyr Harkyn,” Toryn growls, his eyes glowing with hatred, “I challenge you to a one-on-one tournament duel.”