72. Kat
Kat
O ver the following days, the queen kept Bastian busy with work. He told me it was because of the coming wedding and the fact he’d been away, so she needed him all the more. After using Princess Nyx’s death as a warning, I suspected it was because he’d been away with me .
Though he did find out how Rufus and Robin had secured permission to come to Elfhame.
As Caelus had said, Uncle Rufus had told anyone who would listen that I, the woman who had saved Albion from war, was his niece.
It was only a short step from there to worming his way into the good graces of Queen Elizabeth herself.
So when she had to choose people for her diplomatic mission to Elfhame, my devious uncle was an obvious choice. Then, cut off from credit, Robin had caught wind of opportunity.
What a pair of fucking vultures, feeding off my scraps.
Feeding off me .
Other than taking Vespera for a ride with Rose, I kept to our rooms and tried to lose myself in research and, when that didn’t work, in a bottle.
With the iron ring, the magical effects of fae drink didn’t affect me, but the regular alcohol Bastian kept in his rooms was intoxicating once more.
I even managed to sleep without any nightmares about poisoning people, so the iron was doing the trick.
But one morning, Bastian made time to have breakfast with me. I should’ve known it wouldn’t only be breakfast.
“Hold this.” He passed me an apple as we ate.
“You… could just put it on the table or your plate, you know.” I raised an eyebrow at the fruit’s bright red skin.
“Indulge me.” He narrowed his eyes, a hair’s breadth from rolling them.
I huffed and held it up, waving it side to side to show my obedience.
“As tight as you can.” He nodded at my plate. “You can continue eating—this is going to take a while.”
I screwed up my face, trying to decipher what this was about, but he gave no further explanation, so I gripped as hard as I could and speared a mushroom with my fork.
“ Good .” He gave me a half smile, knowing what that tone of voice did to me. “I promise this has a purpose.”
“I’m dying to hear it.”
“I said I’d help you with your magic, didn’t I?”
I went still, clenching my jaw. This wasn’t something I had to worry about anymore.
“When you weren’t wearing that thing, you could feel it, right?”
Slowly, I nodded and glanced at the apple. “The Lady of the Lake said I held on too tight. I did hear her, and I tried letting go. It got a lot of people killed.” I frowned at him. “Why does this feel like a trap?”
“It isn’t, Kat. I just… I want you to understand what you can do—how it works. And why .” He peered at me over his coffee cup, a plea in his eyes.
When I said nothing, he took a sip and went on. “Magic is everywhere, but most people—fae and humans with gifts—they can only feel the magic that’s inside them.”
Like Rose had described when she’d tried to teach me. She’d spoken of reaching inside.
“But we can feel what’s around us. Think of it as tethered and untethered. Enchanted objects and people—their magic is closely tethered. That’s why Horrors have to go right up to them to feed.”
I grimaced at the memory of Horrors feeding on people in the city streets.
“Remember the apple.”
I sighed and re-focused my grip.
“On the other hand, animals and plants vary depending on their age and intelligence—their will.”
“The Great Yew—I’m guessing that’s tightly tethered.”
“Exactly. While the magic of the land is untethered. It’s the easiest thing for us to draw upon, just as it’s easiest for Horrors to feed upon.”
“So… unseelie draw on magic, and Horrors feed upon it.”
“Hmm.” He nodded and something flickered over his expression before he took a long draught of his coffee.
I thought of the monsters’ void-black eyes and the void blade of his unseelie sword. “Have you ever thought about the similarity between them and unseelie powers before?”
He exhaled through his nose, tension twitching around his eyes.
“I have. Often.” He dragged his gaze up from the table to me.
“I suspect Horrors came from the Underworld, the same as unseelie. Or that unseelie magic was used to create them. But it was so long ago, and their creators or summoners were all executed after the war. There’s no way to know. ”
And, through him, I had something in common with those monsters. Until I was cured, at least.
“I think that’s long enough. You can put the apple down.” He fetched a thick book off the shelf and brought it over. “Now, hold this, your hand at the top, the book beneath.”
My forearm ached as I placed the apple on my plate and turned my chair from the table. When I tried to take the book, it only stayed there a moment before slipping from my grasp.
Crouching, he caught it. “The tighter the grip, the sooner it breaks.”
I half groaned, flexing my stiff fingers. “And there’s the lesson.”
“I told you there was a purpose.” He sank to his knees before me. “I think this is what the Lady of Lake was getting at. You hold on to the magic near you, even when you don’t realise. But you need to let it flow through and around you, like you’re directing water rather than trying to hold it.”
“Look, I appreciate you trying to help me, but this isn’t going to matter soon.”
“Your cure,” he murmured, gaze dropping to my lap.
Silence washed over us for long seconds.
“Well, just in case it doesn’t work or you decide to take off that iron ring other than when you sleep…” He gave me a quick smile and squeezed the fingers of my other hand. “Letting go is an important part of holding on. It’s something my father taught me when I was learning to control my magic.”
“And when do you let go?”
He pulled away slightly, but I kept hold of him. “I’ve been doing this a long time.”
“ When ?”
He took a long breath as though he needed to steel himself to go on. “In small pleasures… and recently, in greater ones.” One corner of his mouth rose.
“You mean beauty and sex?” I frowned. “But you’re so… in control.”
“I create parameters that allow me to let go.”
The way he’d slammed into me after I’d asked him to give me everything. He’d only allowed it once I was held down by his shadows. Hadn’t I thought before that control was his form of safety?
“I’m glad it works for you. And I’m exceedingly glad that I can help with your magical control.” I kissed him, pulling back when he tried to deepen it, though the heat in me wanted to answer in kind. “Ari’s coming before she opens the shop.”
He sighed and glanced at the orrery, thumbs tracing circles on my thighs. “And I should get to work.” Yet he didn’t make any move towards leaving.
I gathered his hands and pushed them away but couldn’t resist planting a quick kiss on his brow. “You should.”
* * *
With great force of will, we got him out the door just as Ariadne arrived. She gasped when I grabbed her for a hug.
“But… your poison?”
“Iron.” I held up my hand and showed her the ring, smiling despite the queasiness that came after I ate while wearing it. If it wasn’t the iron making me feel faintly ill, it was the poison. At least this way, I didn’t risk killing anyone by accident.
“Oh!” She pulled me into another hug, squeezing hard. “Need to make up for all the times we haven’t been able to.”
I laughed, and when we finally broke apart, I took her to the sitting room and showed her the insignia Sura had given me. “I was hoping you could tell me something about this.”
She bent over, examining it.
As the silence wore on, I fidgeted. Ari had seen the one from the Solstice attack, but Bastian had it locked away with his evidence. “I can get hold of the other one I showed you before, if you want to compare them more—
“No need.” She shook her head, flipping the patch over and checking the back.
“The differences are stark. The style—they’re by different hands, which isn’t a surprise.
” She shrugged. “If you needed lots of these, they wouldn’t all be sewn by the same person.
Your fingers would drop off, even with a thimble. ” She flashed me a grin.
“So… they’re different, but that’s explainable?”
“Yes… and no.” A crease pinched between her brows as she held it out and pointed to the hydra’s golden eyes.
“The goldwork on this one is only on the eyes, but the other one. I remember it clearly, because the thread is so unusual. I’ve never seen anything like it.
Two-ply…” She glanced up. “Sorry, I’m not sure how much you know about sewing… ”
“Only enough to make exceptionally mediocre repairs.”
She snorted and went on, “Well, a two-ply thread is one made up of two yarns. In the case of the other insignia you showed me, one scarlet thread and one gold. Real gold, too—high content.”
“Sounds expensive.”
“It is. A length of that probably could’ve paid my rent for months back in Briarbridge.”
It probably could’ve gone a good way towards clearing Robin’s debts.
“Anyway, this…” She tilted the patch so the goldwork glinted in the light. “This is standard crimson thread for the hydra and gold for the eyes. To my mind, the stitch difference makes sense, but the colours…” The crease between her eyebrows deepened.
“What are you saying?”
“These weren’t just sewn by different hands but… for different people. Do you think if Bastian asked for crimson like this, he’d be happy with that other insignia? It was almost vermillion, for goodness’ sake.” She snorted, shaking her head.
I sat back. I’d never seen Ari so animated.
Yet… I could understand. The black and charcoal serpents on Bastian’s clothing were always perfect—the difference in their shades just enough to show the intricate embroidery.
Dawn’s guards wore pale, pale grey, while the Kingsguard wore pure white.
Dusk’s had that deep blue-black, differentiating them from the Queensguard’s black.
Subtlety in colour mattered to fae.
“The scarlet and gold thread might as well be yellow—that’s how different it is from this.” I held up the insignia.
Ari gave a single nod. “Exactly.”
I thanked her, and we drank tea and chatted before she had to go and open her atelier. I couldn’t tell if I made good company, not when my thoughts snagged on the idea that we had two versions of Hydra Ascendant, a real one and a false one.
That evening I showed Bastian and explained what Ariadne had told me. He peered at the patch a long while, a deep frown furrowing his brow.
“I’ll look into it,” he muttered before tucking it into his pocket, though he sounded unconvinced.
It was better than nothing. Once he saw them side by side, he’d have to realise the truth. Sura was not behind the Solstice attack.