Chapter 75
CHAPTER 75
Farron
T he party unfurls before me like a silken veil. A part of me hates how beautiful it is. The prismatic courtyard of Cryptgarden is draped in pastel fabric. Sculpted crystal trees and flowers cast a glow over the guests. It’s oddly reminiscent of Caspian’s birthday party, and a part of me aches for the company of Ezryn and Keldarion, but most of all, for Day and Rosie.
Caspian again sits on a throne of briars, a black fox mask covering the upper half of his face. My own mask is an elk, brushed with burnished gold, long antlers jutting from the top. It covers my nose and everything above. I expected to feel uncomfortable dressed in Caspian’s tight clothes, but there’s a part of me that finds it a tad … thrilling. Tonight, I’m not the Prince of Autumn, but just another debauched citizen of the Below.
Hand trailing on the cool stair handle, I head down into the throng. The air is rich with the intoxicating blend of musk and sweet incense. A kaleidoscope pattern shines over the dancers, cast by the crystals, making them look like dreams—or nightmares—brought to life. Everyone is wearing a mask, but for some, that’s all they’re wearing. The outfits range from elegant gowns to nothing at all.
Fae grace the dance floor with a hypnotic rhythm, their movements akin to poetry in motion, as if ensorcelled by the enchantment of the night.
It’s the drink , I think, having made sure to not have any myself. It’s working. They’re all mad here.
“Dance with me,” a woman with a wolf’s mask says. Her attire of silk and lace hugs her curves, leaving little to the imagination.
“I’m all right,” I say, sidestepping away. I know we have to stay at this party long enough for Caspian to be seen, but it doesn’t mean I have to dance with this stranger.
But she stalks me through the party, like a hunter after prey. Then she snags my arm. “Caught you,” she laughs. Her lips, painted a deep crimson, curl into a playful smile.
“Sorry, Caterina,” a smooth voice says. “His next dance is with me.”
I’m enveloped in the scent of lavender as someone steps between us.
“Oh, Prince Caspian, of course,” the woman in the wolf mask says before slinking back into the crowd.
“Try to act like you’re enjoying this,” Caspian says dryly, pulling me into a dance. “You are the one I’m going to disappear with later.”
My words are all caught in my throat, and I can barely keep up with the footwork of the dance. How is he so good at this?
Caspian exudes majesty, wearing the finest midnight velvet. The fitted doublet hugs tight to his slim waist, its silver stitching reminiscent of the stars. A belt of woven gemstones adorns his waist, catching the light and casting prisms of color that dance across his figure. His cloak is a twilight-hued masterpiece of silk. As he moves, it billows behind him like moving shadows. Embroidered along the hem are stars and crescent moons, their celestial beauty mirroring his own.
As I watch him, I can’t help but be swept away by the sheer enchantment of it all. He’s like a character from a fairytale come to life, a prince of darkness with a charm and allure that are impossible to resist.
“I see you decided on a new cloak,” I finally say.
He laughs. “Had to have something special for tonight.”
Together, we move as one, our bodies swaying to the hypnotic rhythm of the music. The other partygoers track us with their eyes. Even with his mask, Caspian is impossible to ignore. Everyone here wants a piece of their prince.
“Well, I like it,” I say.
I catch a flash of his lavender gaze from beneath the black fox mask. He pulls me closer so we’re chest to chest, and I can feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek.
A sudden chill sweeps over the courtyard. The music stops abruptly. Caspian must notice this a moment before me because thin briars wrap around my feet and shoot me across the dance floor, bumping me into people before I crash against a table laden with food and drink.
Gasping, I push myself up and stand just in time to see Sira enter the party. The crowd parts before her like grass bending to the wind. She wears a black dress with a silken spiderweb cloak.
Caspian regards her with a look of disinterest, leaning on some random half-dressed fae man. “Welcome, Mother.”
“What is this?” Her voice is knife-sharp.
He gives a mocking smile, the kind of smile one might give if drunk. “Why, I do believe it’s what some call a party.”
“A party,” Sira gleams and looks to the crowd. “Your prince makes merry while our enemies plot above?”
Caspian gives a mocking laugh. “Mother, life can be so boring if it’s all work, work, work.”
Why is he baiting her like this? It’s like he wants to infuriate her. I push through the crowd to get closer.
“And you .” Sira turns to the man Caspian leans against. “How are you enjoying this party, knowing it keeps your prince from thwarting those who would keep us down here in the dark forever?”
“Uh,” the fae man stammers.
“As I thought,” Sira says.
Shadows fall off her like water rolling off a rock. They gather on the ground before lashing up and devouring the man. Ash flutters away in a slight breeze.
Terror ripples through the crowd, but they don’t scream. They don’t even move. It’s the kind of terror that freezes you to your core.
“There shall be no merrymaking, no parties, and no gallivanting until the Golden Rose is in our possession,” Sira says. The sound of clanging metal rings behind her as black armored fae and goblins march to her side. “Return to your dwellings or reap the consequences.”
Breath heavy in my throat, I back away into the crowd.
“And you,” Sira says to her son, “follow me.”
The soldiers begin to direct the partygoers away from Caspian’s palace and down the swirling steps to the city below.
This is bad. This is so, so bad. The party was supposed to be a distraction. What are we going to do now?
I dodge out of the way of the soldiers and walk deeper into the halls of Cryptgarden, trailing after Caspian and his mother. They’re heading in the direction of his private chamber. Quickly, I double back, taking a shorter route Cas had showed me earlier in case of an emergency, and enter his room before they arrive. I’m sure he won’t like me following him, but I can’t let the soldiers direct me down to the city. I’d never get back in time to get to the pool.
I creep inside and tuck myself into Caspian’s wardrobe, leaving just enough of a crack so I can peek out. The door opens and Sira and Caspian march in.
“It was just a little fun,” Caspian says, running his hands through his hair.
Sira snatches the fox mask off his face and throws it to the ground. “Your sister is working tirelessly while you do nothing.”
“I’m not the one who lost the Golden Rose,” Caspian snaps, turning away.
Sira grabs his face with her hand. “But you can find her.”
“I don’t know where she is.”
She pushes him away. “I find that hard to believe. Perhaps you have forgotten what’s at stake. Perhaps you need the proper motivation. Vespera, come to me!”
A chill runs through my veins. I’ve heard whispers of that name before. One of Sira’s main weapons in the War of Thorns.
Vespera, the Abyssal Sorceress.
The door begins to creep open.
“Mother,” Caspian says quickly, only a tinge of panic audible. “If I could find the Golden Rose, I would but—”
“Wait,” Sira says and the door halts.
“I do so hate to do this to you, my darling boy. I hate to see you look so frightened,” Sira coos. “I suppose I did already remove one of your party guests. I know how you hate to see your people upset.”
“I can begin my search tonight. I’ll leave immediately.”
“Very well.” Sira lets out a long breath.
Relief courses through me.
The Queen of the Below turns to go but pauses near the door. “Though it is a shame to call Vespera up from deep Stygian Hollows for nothing.”
“A little trip won’t hurt her,” Caspian sneers.
“Now that I think of it …” Sira gives a smile with no warmth behind it, “the Golden Rose was lost in Summer, which is your sister’s domain. Perhaps Vespera can have a little fun with her as proper punishment?”
“No,” Caspian says, and the word is so forceful that even Sira takes a step back. “I’ll take it for her.”
His mother whirls. “Oh, Caspian, darling. You wouldn’t want to do that. You see, Vespera has brought the hood. I know how you hate the hood.”
I can almost feel Caspian’s fear as if it’s my own, waves of it rippling through me so intensely, nausea overwhelms me. But all he says with that same cocky smile is, “Bring her in.”
“Very well.” Sira opens the door.
The Abyssal Sorceress glides in. Her skin an unnatural pale blue. Her dark hair floats like snakes. I’ve never seen her this close, only from a distance on the battlefield. It’s her teeth that are truly the most horrific: rows of razor-sharp fangs and pale blue gums that ooze blood.
As she extends her hand, holding a tattered black hood, my heart quickens. Every fiber of my being screams at me to flee. But even if I could get away unseen, I know I can’t leave Cas—not that he even knows I’m here.
“So, you haven’t taken my advice and got those teeth checked out?” Caspian says, biting a nail. “I told you; the raw fish of the Hollows are no good for dental hygiene.”
“Kneel,” Vespera says, voice laced with venom. Blue blood splashes from between her lips, a few drops landing on Caspian’s cheek.
He wipes it off, then obeys.
Vespera lifts the hood, her fingers long and bony. She draws it open and descends it over Caspian’s head. At first, nothing happens.
Then I notice Caspian’s chest, heaving in and out as his breath increases. He starts to scream, a chorus of agonized moans. Caspian pitches forward, clawing at the ground.
What is that thing doing to him? Vespera’s smile widens, and she rubs her fingertips together.
My breath rises in my throat, and I place my palm flat against the wardrobe to steady myself. I wish I could help him. I wish there was something I could do. But revealing myself to Sira now would only jeopardize our plan, put Kel and George in danger, and ruin all chances of saving Rosalina’s mother.
I know all this, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch.
A bloodcurdling scream tears from Caspian. Shadows leak from his body, briars burst through the floors, and emerald fire sprouts on his fingertips.
Enough. It has to be enough. His limbs are shaking, his room near destroyed. Sira has to stop this. But there is nothing but void emotion on her striking face.
Caspian’s broken cries pierce the air like shattering glass, and the green fire begins to grow, curling around his arms.
Sira’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before she holds up her hand. “Stop. That is enough.”
Vespera makes a bird-like screech and shuffles over the thorns and shadows, tearing the hood from his head.
I expect Caspian’s face to be marred in some way—burned, scarred, broken—but the only difference is the black makeup smeared down his cheeks.
Sira wipes his face with the long sleeve of her dress and smooths back his hair. “What is your mission?”
Caspian opens his mouth, closes it. Opens it again, and when he speaks, his voice is hoarse and broken. “To bring you the Golden Rose.”
“That’s right.” Sira smiles and bends to kiss his forehead. “Do not disappoint me again.”
Like twin shadows, Sira and Vespera leave the room. I stay rooted in my spot, unsure how to proceed from here. Fear still grips me.
“You don’t have to keep hiding,” Caspian says without moving. “She won’t come back.”
Slowly, I crawl out from the wardrobe, catching my reflection in the mirror. My own cheeks are streaked with black paint. I’ve been crying too. I raise my mask over the top of my head.
Kneeling in front of Caspian, I ask, “What did the hood do to you? Does it show you visions? Nightmares?”
He shakes his head, as if trying to clear the memory. “The Soulrender’s Hood can show many things. But today, it showed me wishes.”
I study him and watch the ghost of a smile crawl over his lips. “My mother’s wish for my future. One in which I kill you all, slowly, one by one. Ending with her .”
“I know you’re not going to bring her Rosalina.”
His hard gaze is a challenge in the worst way. “I’ll endure worse if I don’t.”
“Probably. But you still won’t.”
“What makes you so sure, Autumn Prince?”
I grab his hands. “Because you’re her mate.”