Chapter 37
thirty-seven
Both iron doors swung open slowly and with a weak screech. Hil let go of the handles, and he looked just as shocked as I was.
Holy shit, it worked. The doors were open.
Maera’s wolf was the first one to go through. I held my breath instinctively as I followed her into the dark room, and Hil was right beside me.
It was daylight outside, but either there were no windows in here, or they were closed off somehow, because no light seeped through anywhere.
Only darkness. Only shadows. But by the sound of my sigh alone when I let go of my breath, you could tell that we were in a big room with possibly a very high ceiling.
“Light,” I breathed, as the memories came back to me, rushed through my head fast. “Ask for light, Hil.” Because that’s what I’d done when I’d been in the Ice Palace with Vair. I’d asked for light.
“Ask for light?” Hil’s eyes were on me, and I could just see the outline of him from that orange light he’d made outside that was hovering by the door.
“Yes. Ask.” He probably thought I’d lost it or something, but he did as I said anyway.
“Give me light,” he said dramatically, and…
Nothing happened.
“Wow. That worked.” Hil stepped forward and the light behind him came closer, though it didn’t really illuminate anything. “Genius. Thank you for that, Nilah. It was—”
Light.
Light sprung atop torches and sconces all around us at once, and a scream stuck in my throat as Maera growled and Hil’s hands lit up from within. My own magic reacted, rushing down my arms, fluid, smooth—but there wouldn’t be any need for it. The room was empty. Nobody was there.
“Oh, my God,” I whispered when I took in the large space in front of us. It was exactly what we’d been looking for. This was the throne room of the Fire Palace.
Hil and Maera were already walking ahead, but my feet were glued to the floor still, and I reached for my pocket absentmindedly, wrapped my fingers around the marble cube that used to be Vair.
Fuck, I’d have loved for him to be here with me right now.
He’d know what to say. He always knew what to do in times like these.
There were a lot of animals here, frozen in place, just like Vair. Just like the rest of the statues we’d seen around the court, except these were in a much better condition.
The room stretched wide and was almost completely empty, covered in dust and cobwebs, even more so than the hallway outside.
So much more. Just how long had this place been closed down?
There were windows ahead and on the sides of the room, and they were closed with what could have been wooden shutters.
No light came through, but the walls were lined with torches, and they were all alive with fire now, which also brought to life the rose-gold foil that decorated the coral-colored walls, shaped like vines and flowers and animal faces.
The tiles underneath us were large, a mix of orange-tinted gold and a deep brown that looked almost black.
There were four chandeliers made of glass that looked like leaves, but there was no light shining in them.
The ceiling was shaped like a triangle, and it was made of the same iron and the same design as the doors to the throne room.
But the dais was unlike any other I’d seen so far.
Above two sets of three stairs stood a rose-gold structure that looked like a mouth at first, but the more I focused, the more I realized it was a helmet with a large crown at the top, which had a star in the very middle that could very well be bigger than my body.
The entire thing was covered in dust and cobwebs that reached from the star on that gigantic crown atop the gigantic helmet, and all the way to the floor.
The space below it, inside the helmet, was empty, the back of it decorated with vines of gold.
No chairs, no furniture, no nothing—just that, and the countless animal statues on its sides, like they were half hiding behind the helmet.
Foxes crouched on their haunches, wolves frozen mid-snarl, ravens, some watching, some with wings spread wide like they were about to take flight, and antlered stags with their heads bowed.
They, too, were covered in dust, and though they had cracks everywhere, they weren’t broken. They looked so real it freaked me out.
“Do you smell that?” Hil whispered, finally pulling me out of my trance. I moved forward, pulled my hand out of my pocket, and sniffed, just as Maera’s wolf did.
“Dust,” I said. “I smell dust.”
“No.” Hil turned to look at me, his eyes wide, his lips parted. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him look so…confused. “No, it’s something else.”
Maera gave a whine.
“She doesn’t smell it, either.” I went closer, breathing in as deeply as I could, but the scent didn’t change even when I was standing right next to Hil.
“It’s…like honey.” His eyes fell on every single detail around us slowly, then stopped on the dais, the large helmet and the crown on top. He moved toward it, almost like he was being pulled. “Like honey and fire.”
I smelled no honey or fire, but I followed him, anyway, as Maera went around to search near the walls, the corners, and she didn’t look concerned. For now, I took it.
“This is it,” I told Hil when I stopped beside him in front of the first set of stairs that led to the dais.
“There’s no throne,” he said.
I was tempted to smile because somehow I knew more about fae thrones than this guy who was born and raised here and was actually a royal by blood.
“Because there’s no true king or queen here. Go ahead, Hil. Go closer.” He turned to look at me, eyes wide still. Glossy. “It’s fine, I promise. Just go closer.”
And the fact that I knew this with absolute certainty was hilarious to me, too, but my smile didn’t falter.
And Hil believed me, because taking in a deep breath, he walked up the three stairs and went closer to that monstrous helmet and the dais that looked almost like a tongue stretching out of the invisible head wearing it.
His hands burned with orange light just slightly—Hil was afraid.
I didn’t blame him, but he still walked with his head up and his shoulders back, his every step precise.
Until he stepped onto the top stair and was right in front of the large helmet. It looked even bigger now in comparison to Hil.
I felt the energy shifting when Maera stopped at my side, looking up curiously. I felt it in the way the air changed, like it became heavier all of a sudden, like time itself suspended, forgot to count a second or two.
I felt it exactly as I had in the Ice Palace, and my eyes closed as I breathed deeply, prepared mentally for what I knew was coming.
“What now?”
Hil’s voice echoed in the tall ceiling. I said nothing, only smiled.
Then the wall decorated with vines at the back of the large helmet moved.
I’d seen this happen before, twice. I’d seen throne chairs spring out from under the ground, both in the Ice Palace—for me—and in the Midnight Palace for Rune.
This one was a bit different, though. Because the wall moved, pushed itself back and slid to the side, and the throne chair made of the same metal, with a deep orange, velvet cushion, simply slid out from behind and moved onto the dark wooden surface of the dais as if it had wheels underneath.
It stopped right at the mouth of the helmet, with the large crown right over it a few feet in the air.
“Hil,” I whispered, but he didn’t even turn to look at me or Maera as he slowly walked toward the throne chair.
I couldn’t see his face, but his hands were burning even brighter than before, and my heart was about to break right out of my ribcage because it worked-it worked-it worked!
The throne was right there, had opened up for him, and Hil was close, so close.
Hil turned, put his shaking hands on the armrests.
Hil sat on the velvet cushion—and the whole world held its breath.
Our eyes locked. He looked terrified and at peace at the same time, something I’d never seen on anyone before. The corners of my lips turned up, and his did the same.
He was sitting on the Unseelie throne because he really, truly was of royal bloodline.
Then the walls began to move.