2. Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Rahk
I slam the unseelie’s body into the cliffside, the roots protruding from his scalp shaking with the impact. “I’m going to ask you again. Where is my sister?”
The creature’s eyes roll back and turn glassy. I sigh as I release my grip. He falls to the ground in a lifeless heap, the back of his head caved in. I forget how delicate their skulls are.
It doesn’t matter. I can track my sister without him, and he deserved far worse than what he got.
The air around me tingles with a symphony of scents. I inhale deeply, sorting through the sweetness of evergreen, the heaviness of earth, the dusty tang from the sedimentary cliffside, and the distinct spice of rot coming from beneath the fingernails of the dead unseelie. There . Among those scents, I catch what I’m looking for: the bright zest of lemon mixed with blooming jasmine.
Don’t worry, Pavi, I’m coming to get you.
I follow her scent, running along the cliff’s base, staying near the boundary between Caphryl Wood and the Star City. When the scent grows from a tiny thread to a river, I leap into the air, letting my wings carry me faster than my feet can. The scent takes me higher, higher, until I’ve reached the top of the cliff. The city sprawls below in the valley, its tall spires piercing the evening and rising even above this cliff.
I land on the waving grass beneath the setting sun.
There, a stone’s throw away, is a line of Star City warriors. They wear violet armor imprinted with glowing rings of star-like gems. I cannot see past them, but Pavi’s scent is so strong that she must be here. My blood runs hot. I brace my feet wide as I draw my two broadswords.
So it was the Star City that captured Pavi. It is a bold move for a vulnerable city not associated with a Court.
“Caspar!” I shout. “I know you’re behind this. Don’t make me slaughter all your good men.”
Pavi’s high-pitched voice comes from behind the line of warriors. “Rahk! You’ve come too early!”
So Caspar has her at knife point. Cowardly snake . “If negotiations are what you want, then say so. The Nothril Court doesn’t deal kindly with those who harm their heirs,” I shout. I size up the warriors between my sister and me, landing on the one with a misbalanced stance as the target of my attack.
Abruptly, they fall back, parting like a curtain to reveal Pavi.
She’s sitting at a table set with a white tablecloth, a tiered tower of sweet refreshments, and a very human set of china for tea. Caspar, with his long, purple robes and tied back golden hair, sits on the opposite side of the table. He doesn’t hold a knife to Pavi’s throat, and though I search his person, I find no sign of a single weapon. Knowing his magic, however, that doesn’t mean he isn’t threatening her. I scan the area beyond them, looking for archers. The cliff is rocky and grassy, with no visible hiding places.
“Rahk!” Pavi cries, clapping her hands together after popping a tiny pink cake into her rosy mouth. Her white hair blows in the wind, her pale complexion brighter than normal. “Look—I’m winning!”
I frown, not lowering my swords as I tentatively step closer. Caspar doesn’t turn toward me, but instead keeps his attention fixed on . . . a game board?
“We’re playing Fool’s Circle and he’s very good, but I’ve practiced so much against you that I caught him off-guard with the Seizer’s Strategy!” Pavi laughs, before turning to Caspar. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Starborn Prince. Maybe I’m more fit to rule your city than you are.”
“It’s true,” Caspar says to me, leaning back in his chair. “She’s outwitted me with her Nothril strategy. I’m taking notes.”
My mind flips through a dozen possibilities of what is happening. Has Caspar threatened that if Pavi doesn’t act happy, he’ll kill her? Or does he hold a shadow hand at her throat? Surely, he isn’t trying to charm my sister into an illicit relationship that he intends to leverage against the Nothril Court? She is beautiful, but she is far from marrying age. That would be greatly lower than I anticipated him stooping—and if it’s true, he will pay for it with more than his life and his precious city.
“Come here, Pavi,” I say as a test, aware of the warriors flanking us.
Her bottom lip protrudes in a pout. “Can’t I finish the game? I’m so close to beating him!”
The next instant, my blade rests against Caspar’s throat. He doesn’t move, only shifts his gaze from the board to me with one lifted eyebrow.
“Finish the game,” I growl, a dark threat in my voice.
“Rahk!” Pavi whines. “Don’t you dare hurt him! He’s been very nice to me this entire time.”
“I should clarify that I was also not too nice to her,” Caspar adds, only flinching slightly when I press the blade harder against him. He waves one hand for his warriors to stay back.
“He was a very normal and decent level of nice,” agrees Pavi, nodding. “So put away your sword and let us finish our game. Then I’ll come home.”
“The sword stays where it is,” I reply. “Finish your game quickly.”
She huffs irritably, but makes her moves. Caspar uses his turn to put himself at a disadvantage. A wise choice. Pavi claims her win in triumph, none the wiser.
“I told you I’d beat you,” she croons at Caspar.
I nod. “Time to go.”
She sighs as though I am asking a great deal to remove her from her kidnapper. She pops one more little cake into her mouth before I can stop her and hops to her feet. “Thank you, Caspar, for the lovely afternoon.”
He smiles, not moving because I keep my sword at his throat. “I’d offer again, but your brother might not approve.”
“You are not going near her,” I say coolly.
“Then don’t touch my city.” Caspar’s teeth flash in a smile. “I know the Nothril Court has been sending spies. I know you want to claim it as part of your Court.”
There is the reason for this kidnapping then. He’s making a statement to Lord and Lady Nothril—and the rulers of any other Court that tries to annex his city—that he isn’t to be trifled with.
I ease my sword away from Caspar. “I do not care who rules your city. You leave Pavi out of your threats, or I will personally ensure there is no city for anyone to rule.”
His eyes flash with anger, but beneath it is a tinge of fear he tries to bury. His posture may be casual, but the salty drift of his sweaty hands gave him away from the beginning. He wonders if he has miscalculated in the statement he made by stealing Pavi.
If he had laid a hand on her, that would have been a grave miscalculation. As it stands, he might just get away with his city’s continued independence.
It’ll all depend on Lord and Lady Nothril’s moods when I return home.
“Come, Pavi.” I sheathe one sword and place my empty hand between her shoulder blades, keeping my other armed and ready.
She gives one last wave at Caspar, and then surrenders to being rescued. Her wings are not deep blue like mine, but gleam like the moon in the last light of day as we leave the cliff and the Star City behind us, flying toward the Path that will take us home.
“How did he capture you?” I ask, once we’re on the Path. I’ll need to inspect our fortifications when we arrive back at the Nothril Court.
“He just knocked on my door and asked me if I wanted to visit the Star City and play Fool’s Circle with him. Of course, I said yes. You cannot imagine that I would turn down such an opportunity when Mama and Father keep us so confined at home!” Us —even though Pelarusa and I are hardly confined anywhere. Our third sister, recently bonded with another Court’s heir, almost never returns to Nothril these days. Only Pavi is confined at home , and for good reason.
I restrain my groan. She just went with him? I’ve always known Pavi’s personality is not suited to the Nothril Court, but the older she gets and the more she refuses to conform to the expectations placed on her, the more certain I become that she will get herself killed.
Not by outside forces—but by Lord and Lady Nothril.
“If you must temporarily escape the Nothril Court, then do so with me or Pelarusa, not strangers.” I try to keep my irritation and fear out of my voice, but I don’t fully succeed. “We will ensure you won’t get caught.”
She isn’t satisfied, her little brow puckered, and her chin lifted in that characteristic stubbornness that always makes me anxious for her. Very early on, I ascertained what was expected of me, observed the consequences of failing to meet those expectations, and arranged my life accordingly. Pavi has no interest in doing the same.
“You wouldn’t want Caspar’s entrails to decorate the throne room, would you?” I ask darkly.
She turns such a look of disgusted horror up at me. “Why must you be so morbid ?”
“That is what will happen,” I say, forcing home my point. “You know it as well as I do. If he had hurt you, every single Nothril warrior would have been sent to rip apart the Star City. All because you didn’t slam your door in his face and scream for your guards. Would your few hours of fun be worth it then?”
“I hate you,” she growls, and then spits as iron fills her mouth and my nose.
I wince, the stench so strong it pulses through my brain, almost blinding me with its intensity. “You are cruel to speak lies in my presence.”
“It’s the only vengeance I can have for you ruining my conscience and making me now feel guilty for enjoying even the smallest moment of fun.”
The smell of her lie fades from the air, and I take a deep inhale. I look down grimly at the top of her white head. There is only so much Pelarusa and I can do to protect her.
In the darkest, quietest parts of my heart, sometimes I wish I didn’t care about her so much. I wish her goodness and innocence were blackened like mine and Pelarusa’s. Maybe, if she was hardened like us, I wouldn’t feel the need to protect her. Maybe then, I wouldn’t feel this creeping sense of vulnerability that always follows me when she enters the picture.
An army of guards meets us at the grand iron gates leading into the palace set into the side of Nothril’s great cave. I hold up a hand and nod toward Pavi beside me. “She’s unharmed. Stay at your posts.” We pass them, the air turning damp the deeper we take the hallways into the cavern, and I say to Pavi, “Don’t say a word. I will speak for you.”
“You never let me talk,” she grumbles.
If she learned the art of politics and placation, I would. “Do you want Caspar to stay alive and keep his city?”
She tosses back her head and groans irritably.
“Do you want to stay alive?” I ask, nodding to the runner quickly approaching us, giving her permission to announce Pavi’s recovery to Lord and Lady Nothril. The runner turns on her heel and vanishes. “Unless you have a plan to maintain both of those things, you will stay silent.”
She stops fighting me, biting back her tongue, and I do not know if it is because she has accepted defeat, or because there is an unexpected figure lounging by the doors to the throne room. He wears fine robes of gold, the crest of Valehaven, and his crown rests slightly lopsided on his brow.
“Rahk!” cries Trenian Ashrift—Ash, as he is known to me and others close to him—as he straightens and flashes a bright grin at us. “There you are. I’ve been waiting so patiently for you. Hello Pavi.”
She gives a little wave but doesn’t answer back.
“What are you doing here?” I ask in a low voice. “Why aren’t you in Valehaven with Stella?”
He twirls one finger in the air. “I need you to run a little errand for me.”
“For you ?” I lift my eyebrow.
He gives a dramatic sigh. “For your High King and Queen of Faerieland.”
I nod my head toward the doors of the throne room. “I’m in the middle of something. I have a kidnapping victim to restore to her parents, and a city to discuss destroying.”
“He didn’t kidnap me!” Pavi protests.
Ash smirks before returning his attention to me. “The borders of Caphryl Wood have begun receding, returning what my father stole from the human lands. I need you to go to the human lands and act as emissary for the High Throne of Faerie during this time of transition. I anticipate it getting messy.”
I frown. “Why?”
Ash scratches the back of his head. “Well, Ymer the Indefatigable is squatting on the edge of the Wood, and when the border recedes . . .”
“You’re not serious.”
“Unfortunately, I am.”
“You want me to kill the troll, so he doesn’t terrorize the humans?” I ask blandly. It won’t be easy, but I’ve succeeded against greater foes.
“Ah, no, I would not prefer that. Stella and I are still working to settle any unrest after my father’s death, and you know how the trolls can be.”
I shift my weight to one leg. “Old Ymer won’t move under my persuasion. He follows the ancient ways.”
“Yes, exactly, so you must persuade the human queen to come down to the border, once it has receded, and politely ask Ymer to return to the Wood.”
I hesitate, reading the lines of Ash’s expression. “And why, pray, would you send me to do such a simple task?”
Ash snorts. “Well, unfortunately, the queen is Stella’s eldest sister. We don’t anticipate her being cooperative. And Ymer will hardly be cooperative either. That is why I am sending my best man.”
It makes sense that he would ask me, considering that I am the only person besides his wife that he trusts. Lord and Lady Nothril might be pleased that I receive this important commission from the highest power in our land—or, more likely, they will be put out that it takes me away from their service.
“Do I have a choice in the matter?” I ask, laying a hand on Pavi’s shoulder to keep her from barging into the throne room without me because she’s bored of this conversation.
Ash shrugs, tilting his head from one side to the other.
Ah—it’s not an order if I don’t want the assignment, but it is an order if Lord and Lady Nothril object. “I understand. As long as you’re not sending me to get embroiled in some political marriage with a human.”
Ash grins. “You might find a political marriage to a human to be exactly what you enjoy most.” He pushes off the wall, smirking at my unamused face, and begins marching away. “Give my best wishes to your parents. I’ll send over details of the post immediately.”
With that, the High King of Faerieland saunters off, ignoring the guards and servants dropping to their knees in obeisance.
This night grows more complicated by the moment.
“Mama and Father aren’t going to want you to go,” Pavi says. “And they won’t want you to get married.”
The last thing I would ever do in the human lands is get married. I give her a stern look. “Not a word out of you when we go in.”
She rolls her eyes as I shove open the doors to the throne room.
Lady Nothril sits quietly on her throne of carved obsidian, her white hair contrasting sharply with her dark skin and the shining silver dress she wears. She doesn’t move a single muscle. Unlike Lord Nothril, who has abandoned his throne and paces across the dais, his hands in a knot behind his back.
At our entrance, Lord Nothril stops pacing. Lady Nothril’s eyes shoot to us.
Pelarusa, who sits second in the line of three smaller thrones to the right of the dais, is the one who cries, “Pavi! You’re safe!”
I nudge Pavi toward Pelarusa, and she hurries over to embrace our sister and then take her seat. Out of Lord and Lady Nothril’s line of vision—just where she needs to stay.
“You have done well, my son,” Lady Nothril says with a lift of her chin.
I bow before them both, silently accepting the praise.
“Who was it?” Lord Nothril demands. “Who dared to take our daughter?”
I rise, fixing my gaze on the wall just above their thrones, where the Nothril crest hangs. “The Starborn Prince took her—not by force, but by coercion—as a statement he will do worse if the Nothril Court continues to make efforts to claim his city.”
Pavi’s desire to defend Caspar emanates from where she sits. I will her to keep her mouth shut.
“Did he, now?” Lord Nothril growls. “Does he truly think his city can stand against the force of Nothril?”
Lady Nothril’s gaze is heavy on me. I keep my face blank, and my eyes fixed on the crest. “He does not think his city will survive an attack by the Nothril Court, but he makes it clear that he will fight hard to maintain his city’s independence, and that such attacks will prove costly for the Nothril Court.”
That is all I can do for Caspar and his city.
“Interesting,” muses Lady Nothril, tapping one finger lightly on the armrest of her throne.
“I will investigate any breaches in our defenses at once,” I say.
Brow furrowed, Lord Nothril shakes his head. “Pelarusa will handle that.”
I mask my surprise.
In my periphery, Pelarusa blinks twice. “Me? Why?”
The doors burst open behind us. All eyes—save mine—swivel toward the loud bang of thick doors against cold stone walls.
“Lord and Lady Nothril! It has been far too long since you visited Valehaven!” cries a bright, golden voice.
I stifle my groan.
“High King Trenian,” replies Lady Nothril with snakelike calm. “What brings you to our Court?”
I was going to handle this. He didn’t need to announce his presence.
But of course, he did anyway. He’s Ash.
His hand lands in a smack of comradery on my shoulder, his wide grin a sunny contrast to the blacks and grays of the throne room. “I am here for the services of my most trusted warrior.”
“He is busy,” Lord Nothril growls.
“I’m afraid my errand is too important. He will go at once to the human lands and act as my emissary while the High Queen and I adjust Faerieland’s border.”
Lord and Lady Nothril both go quiet, which is typical for the latter—not so much the former. Ash stays at my side, facing them both, the cunning light in his eye sparking. Lord and Lady Nothril may be the rulers of this Court, but Ash and Stella are the rulers of Faerieland. My parents may not like this assignment, but try as they might, there is nothing they can do to fight it.
“Please do not keep him too long,” Lady Nothril says with a smile. “We do not like being parted from our heir.”
Ash offers another bright grin. “Noted. Your service to the Crown will be rewarded.” He squeezes my shoulder and gives me a look that seems to say: “Enjoy your time away from home, my friend.”
Normally, I’d return the gesture.
He strides out of the hall, whistling as he goes. The doors shut with a thud that resounds through the entire space. I keep my gaze fixed above the thrones, not moving an inch.
Nothing I do or say, however, will overcome the suspicion now lingering in Lady Nothril’s eyes as she regards me. It is like my friendship with Ash, and all I did to put him on the throne of Faerie—even aiding his overthrow of the last High King—suddenly come crashing back to the forefront of our relationship. No matter how unshakeable I have always proved my loyalty to be, no matter that overthrowing the last High King directly strengthened the Nothril Court, I am forever tainted in their eyes.
They wonder if I entertain notions of working with Ash to overthrow them too.
“As I was saying, I have a different assignment for you,” says Lord Nothril irritably. “One that you can tend while you are in the human lands on business for the High King.”
I breathe out slowly through my nose.
He flings something to the ground at my feet. Something he had crumpled in his fist this entire time. I watch it skitter to a halt. My pulse leaps with recognition.
A mask covered in ivy.
I lift my head. “The Ivy Mask struck while I was gone?”
The vigilante is not well known, but I am familiar with how he sneaks into the Fae Courts and breaks human slaves free. Because of his neglect of fae slaves, it’s assumed that he is a human too, though his proficient navigation of Faerieland has always struck me as a curiosity.
“His mask was found in Lord Nothril’s chambers. He stole several of our slaves, including your father’s favorite,” Lady Nothril says. “He has trifled with our Court long enough.”
“I will apprehend him,” I say.
Lord Nothril sits back on his throne, his perpetual frown deeper than normal. Caspar better be glad that the Ivy Mask infuriated him so much tonight—otherwise the Star City might have become a desolation within a fortnight.
“You will apprehend him under blood oath,” says Lord Nothril.
A chill races through my blood, followed by a thick cord of irritation. Must they always be so paranoid? I keep my gaze from straying to Pavi. “Have I displeased you, Lord Nothril, that you would require such a guarantee on my word?”
I do not ask the question because I do not know the answer, but to remind them of my proven loyalty.
“It is nothing that you have done,” Lady Nothril says with another light tapping of her fingers. “But your association with High King Trenian and his hideous human wife poses a conflict of interest. We wouldn’t want anything to . . . distract you from your mission.”
I translate this to mean: We don’t trust you unless you have collateral at stake.
“You will swear the blood oath,” says Lady Nothril firmly.
“Very well.” I take a knife from my belt and hold out my wrist, pretending to be oblivious to what they intend. “What are the terms of the bargain?”
“We will not swear on your blood.” Lady Nothril’s gaze trails away from me and lands on Pavi, who hasn’t stopped fidgeting in her chair since she sat down.
And this is why I wish I didn’t have any collateral at all.
I briefly close my eyes, and that is all the vent I give my frustration. Pavi hasn’t been safe for even an hour, and now she is back to being at risk.
No one is allowed to hurt a Nothril heir . . . except Lord and Lady Nothril themselves, I think derisively, but I bite my tongue. This is punishment for Pavi, too, for her reckless behavior and continued refusal to fall in line. I’ll just have to fulfill the terms of this bargain to the letter—something I would have done without the blood oath anyway.
“Come to your mother, Pavi,” says Lady Nothril.
Pelarusa doesn’t move a muscle, despite the weighty gaze she levels at me. Pavi obeys at once, coming to kneel before Lady Nothril. Without a word, she offers her palm.
She winces at the pain of Lady Nothril’s long, taloned nail raking across her palm and drawing a line of blood. If she is afraid of the instant death, the consequence of this bargain not being upheld, she doesn’t show it.
Lady Nothril drags the pad of her finger across Pavi’s cut and paints a rune across the back of her own left hand. Pavi gets up and, without looking at me, offers me her bloody palm. I am careful not to aggravate the wound as I take the blood I need to paint a matching rune on my skin.
“You will bring the Ivy Mask to us for rendered judgment within three moons, measured by the human lands,” says Lady Nothril.
Lord Nothril motions for Pavi to go to Pelarusa. I drag in a shallow breath through my teeth as Pelarusa’s face shifts in alarm.
“And if you do not return with the Ivy Mask by the second moon, Pelarusa will join you on the hunt, and she will not be allowed to leave the human lands until the task is finished.”
“Me?” Pelarusa cries. “Stuck in the human world?”
“Do you object?” Lord Nothril asks in a cold, weighty voice.
Pelarusa’s pale skin goes ashen. She shakes her head quickly. She accepts Pavi’s blood and writes the rune on her hand. The magic locks into place, searing a tattoo into my skin at the back of my neck. I shove away the instinctual trepidation that always floods me when blood oaths are invoked.
They’ve given me three months, two on my own. It’s a very generous allotment of time. It only took me a few hours to hunt down Pavi. This tells me that they don’t want to risk the bargain being broken.
It won’t be broken. I will hunt down the Ivy Mask, hand him over, and wash my hands of the matter before the week is out.
“That is enough,” Lord Nothril declares, rising from his throne. “The wrongs of this day will all be righted. Our Pavi is back to us safely, and the Ivy Mask will be brought to justice.”
“You were in need of a new slave girl anyway,” Lady Nothril says.
“I did have her longer than usual,” Lord Nothril agrees.
“You’d better catch the Ivy Mask quickly,” Pelarusa growls irritably, getting to her feet. “I think I will die if I have to go to the human lands. I can barely put up with the human stink of the Valehaven Tailor.”
I can think of fewer things worse than Pelarusa stuck in the human lands. I give her a nod, acknowledging her concern and offering my promise to avoid the situation she fears. She scowls at me—apparently having decided it is my fault that we’re now bound by a blood oath with Pavi’s life in the balance, even though I was the one who hunted down Pavi while she did nothing.
When I’ve left the throne room, I finally let myself breathe. I go straight to my chambers, craving peace and quiet. The problem of Pavi’s behavior returns to haunt me. Pelarusa will do her best to keep Pavi in line while I’m gone, but Pavi trusts me more and follows my bidding readily.
She doesn’t realize how precariously her life hangs in the balance. She doesn’t believe Lord and Lady Nothril would kill her if they knew she’d walked out of this palace with one of our enemies. She doesn’t know, because they haven’t grabbed her by the throat and threatened to squeeze the life out of her if she didn’t obey.
But I know.
And I need to get her out of here before she finally finds out.
An idea occurs to me. What if I caught the Ivy Mask, temporarily allied with him and made him get Pavi out of Nothril—so I could not be implicated with her disappearance—and then double-crossed him? That would fulfill the terms of the blood oath. It would also ensure Pavi’s life is never again at risk.
And also that Pavi is not used to control me anymore.
I place my hand on the smooth, cold surface of my door. The wards unlock, and I push it open.
Immediately, the air is different.
I shut the door behind me and grab one sword hilt, ready to draw it. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the familiar scents—and the one unfamiliar one. One that smells very sooty . . . and very human.
Moving silently past my wall of weapons, I follow the scent. It’s a slave’s scent. Which one, I’m not sure, but I’ve smelled it before. What is a human slave doing in my rooms? I have given strict orders that only fae slaves are to service my rooms; the human stench is too unpleasant. It lingers and clings like a rotting carcass.
I reach the bedchamber, still not making a sound. At last, I find the culprit.
A young woman in an ill-fitting slave’s uniform is on her knees, half of her torso stuck under my bed.
I let go of my sword’s hilt. “What are you doing?”