Chapter 23
After several days of searching in the library, I still had no idea where the enchanted rose was or how to stop the Necro Shadows.
Ramia had helpfully offered to include my letters to Gerard and Eira in her response to Kendra, claiming it would be easy for the kitchen maid to deliver them for me in the Earthen Court.
At least I wasn’t completely cut off from the outside world, and Eira would know of my whereabouts.
This brought me a modicum of comfort, though I knew the post would take a while to reach the Winter Court.
I hadn’t forgotten about Varius’s request for my blood. I was still angry with him, but… if his people were dying and he needed my blood, then how could I refuse?
But after reading Gerard’s letter, it seemed more important to find the enchanted rose.
Instead of researching in the library, I decided to change tactics and explore as much of the castle as possible.
Perhaps if I could find the enchanted rose on my own and destroy Varius’s magic, I could end the shadows for good.
Then, he wouldn’t need my blood at all, and our courts would not go to war.
But exploring proved more difficult than I thought. Varius had been right: The castle did love toying with me.
It seemed to only want to show me places I’d already been to before: the kitchens, the library, even the courtyard where Varius and I had exchanged vows.
Then one day, I finally found myself in an unfamiliar hall, this one lined with silver carpet instead of the amber I was accustomed to by my rooms. My heart jolted with excitement at the prospect of discovering new rooms in the castle.
Strange purple smoke wafted down the hallway. Terror gripped my chest as I assumed it to be Necro Shadows. But upon further inspection, I realized they were fumes. I sniffed the air, which smelled so strongly of peppermint that it stung my nostrils.
Frowning, I followed the scent to an open door halfway down the hall. I peered inside, my curiosity getting the better of me.
The fumes were so thick it took me a moment to see through them. Heat floated around me, and from within the room, a female voice murmured words I didn’t recognize. They weren’t Terrish or Agnarrish.
I stepped forward, and a floorboard creaked under my foot. My heart leapt in my throat as I eased backward, afraid of getting caught.
In a flash, the door swung open to reveal Tislora, her sparkling silver eyes sweeping over me. Her brows lowered in displeasure.
“Can I help you?” Her tone was clipped.
“I—forgive me. I’m just—” I gestured helplessly toward the hall where I’d come, unable to find the right words.
Tislora scowled, then followed my gaze. She sighed. “The castle deposited you on my doorstep, did it? Well, come in, then.”
My eyebrows lifted as she stood back, retreating inside the smoky and hazy room to allow me to enter.
The room was not at all what I expected.
Nearly as large as the queen’s chambers, it was stocked with shelves that wrapped around the entire perimeter of the foggy room.
In the center stood a massive, bubbling cauldron, behind which rested a small stand with an open book perched on it.
My eyes widened. “What is this place?”
Tislora shot me a smirk over her shoulder as she moved closer to the cauldron. “Never seen an apothecary before?”
“Not like this,” I admitted, wondering why the castle decided to send me here, of all places. Was it possible Tislora could help me locate the enchanted rose?
“You might as well make yourself useful while you’re here,” Tislora said, flipping through the pages of the large tome on top of the stand. “Can you fetch me the jar of sage? It’s on the far right, with green leaves.”
I scanned the contents of the shelves, trying to wave the smoke out of my eyes, before I finally laid eyes on it.
The jar was small, and it easily fit in the palm of my hand.
I gave it to Tislora, who was staring intently at the page of the book.
She peered into the cauldron and inhaled deeply. A furrow formed between her brows.
“It still doesn’t smell quite right.” Her eyes became unfocused for a moment. “Something is… off.” She glanced back at the book and turned a few pages. “Human, fetch me some ground demon horn.”
I blanched, my stomach twisting with unease. “Demon horn?” I repeated.
She shot me an amused look. “It’s not actually the horn of a demon.
It’s the horn of a bakathra, the largest species of fae creature known to our kind.
It usually resides in the mountains and is dangerous and volatile when disturbed.
The powder is white, and the jar is quite tall.
The substance is rare, so do be careful, will you? ”
I nodded, turning to the shelves again as I searched for the ground demon horn. I allowed myself to glance over the labels of the other jars and vials while I looked. The worn parchment labels were written in an untidy scrawl, the ink slightly faded, which made it harder to read.
“Mother of Shade, you humans are so slow . Have you found it yet?”
I rolled my eyes. “And you fae are so impatient. I don’t have to help, you know.” I found the white powder, grabbed the jar, and handed it to Tislora. Despite our barbed exchanges, she had a small smile on her face.
Tislora’s moon-like eyes swept over my form. “You’re not dressed.”
“Yes, I am.” I glanced down at my violet gown.
Tislora snorted. “I mean for the revel.”
“What revel?”
Tislora looked at me again, her shrewd eyes calculating. After a moment, all she said was, “Hmm.”
I folded my arms over my chest and watched as she tipped the jar of ground demon horn just enough to let a few white grains trickle into the simmering contents of the cauldron. It hissed, and purple steam billowed from within. I coughed, waving a hand in front of my face.
“What is the revel?” I asked impatiently.
“It’s a day of merriment. A tradition for our kind.”
I arched an eyebrow. “You want to have a party? While there are deadly shadows surrounding the castle as we speak?”
Tislora’s gaze turned cold as she looked at me. “That is exactly why we should have it. The people are scared. Would you prefer we have them cowering in their closets every night for the foreseeable future?”
I had no response to that. She was right, of course. And I felt like an idiot. My gaze dropped to the cauldron once more. The steam had now turned fuchsia.
“Will you be attending the revel?” I asked her.
“I’ll make an appearance,” she said vaguely .
When I said nothing, she looked me over, her gaze calculating. “You should come.”
I blinked. “To the unseelie revel?”
“Yes. Consider this your formal invitation. Come and see what the unseelie do when we are… unrestrained .”
I resisted the urge to fidget. Her words sounded more like a threat than an invitation. “I—are you sure it would be appropriate for me to be there?”
She arched an eyebrow at me. “Aren’t you Varius’s wife? If he’s there, you should be, too.”
Varius. She was using his given name again. “The king will be in attendance?”
“Of course. He is unseelie, and he must make a point to show the people that even he will make time for them.”
My throat went dry as I considered her words. Should I really do it? Attend this unseelie revel? My efforts to explore the castle had been unfruitful. And if Varius was going to be there, I could speak with him and try to dig up some more answers.
My insides squirmed, but I forced myself to say, “Perhaps you’re right. If I’m the Queen of the Shadow Court, surely, I should make an appearance.”
Tislora laughed again, louder this time. “ Queen of the Shadow Court. As if that actually means anything.”
My cheeks flamed. Who did this fae think she was, to scoff at me like that? “Well, I am married to the Shadow King, as you said.”
Tislora leveled a hard look at me. “Even if you had consummated the marriage, which I’m assuming you haven’t, there hasn’t been an official coronation.
Not to mention the people of this court would never respect you as their queen.
You are a stranger, and a feeble human. No one even knows who you are.
You may be the Shadow King’s wife according to the law, but that does not make you the queen of this people or this land.
You aren’t even willing to give a few drops of your blood for the sake of protecting our people. ” Now her tone was downright icy.
I went completely rigid, my heart stuttering in my chest. She knew about Varius’s need for my blood?
Of course she did. She was the court sorceress.
I swallowed thickly, unable to find my voice.
Tislora’s lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Yes, I know about your blood. And I know you have refused Varius’s request.”
“I did not refuse,” I said tightly. “I just… needed to consider it.”
“Yes, and while you are taking your precious time to consider , those deadly shadows are killing innocent fae.” Her steely eyes drilled into me.
I gritted my teeth, trying to ignore the way my chest constricted at her words.
Stones, she was right. I was so selfish. I thought I could solve this myself, but people were dying .
I needed to speak with Varius. Sooner rather than later.
Which meant… I would be attending this revel. No matter how much the idea tied my stomach into knots.
I gestured to the cauldron, eager to change the subject. “What are you cooking in there?”
“An elixir,” she said shortly. She sniffed the contents again, then frowned. Clearly, something about this potion was bothering her.
I remembered Varius mentioning an elixir when he told me he needed my blood. “What is it for?”
“I’m quite certain that’s none of your business, human.”
“My name is Sybelle,” I snapped.
“I know.”
Stones, she was unpleasant. Did Varius let her speak to him this way, too?
My heart dropped as I realized that was not the same thing at all. Tislora was right—I had no authority here .
I smoothed my hands along my skirt, thinking it might be best if I simply left. Before I could turn away, however, a thought occurred to me. I looked at Tislora with newfound curiosity. “Have you ever been to the Earthen Court?”
She flicked a quick glance my way before returning her attention to the cauldron. “A few times. Why?”
“Have you ever heard of Earthen witches?”
Tislora froze in the act of stirring, the ladle going stiff in her grip. Her nostrils flared slightly, and I could have sworn her silver irises gleamed. “That… is an interesting question,” she said slowly. Her voice was low and lethal. I sensed I was treading on dangerous grounds.
“I came across a book in the library about the history of my court,” I said quickly, “and I’m fairly certain there were no witches in the lineage of my people.”
Tislora removed the ladle from the cauldron and set it on the table in front of her, then fixed her steely gaze on me. “And you humans think you know everything that ever happened in the history of your court? Your lifespans are so short. How can you possibly know what happened before your time?”
“Stories were passed down,” I said. “Histories and journals and texts.”
“Ah. And you believe it’s impossible that certain truths were omitted from these texts?”
“Of course not. But surely someone would have mentioned witches if they had been around at some point.”
“Yes, because you humans love to mingle with other species and then tell everyone about it.” Tislora rolled her eyes.
I frowned at that, remembering how I’d thought of Father and the way he would have balked at the idea of being descended from witches.
Could it be true? If someone like Father had discovered a bloodline of witches in the royal family, he would have covered it up before someone found it out.
He would have erased it from every record to ensure the public believed his bloodline was pure.
Nausea roiled in my gut as I realized that, once more, Tislora was right.
“So… so it’s true then?” I asked breathlessly. “My people are descended from witches?”
Tislora gave a single slow nod.
“Shit,” I whispered, rubbing my forehead. “ Shit. ”
Tislora chuckled again. “Indeed.”
I couldn’t believe it. I was descended from witches ? But how? And where were they now? Had they died out? I found that hard to believe. Witches were powerful; far more powerful than humans. So, what happened to them, and how did humans gain control of the court?
“Don’t think too hard, human,” Tislora teased. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
“Did you know any witches?” I asked. “From my court?”
Tislora was silent as she hovered over the open book resting on the stand. Her eyes weren’t moving, so I knew she wasn’t reading. Her mouth grew very thin, and her eyes were guarded.
“That was a long time ago,” she murmured, her voice distant. I noticed she did not answer my question.
I stood there, watching her, waiting for her to say something else. Her finger was pressed against the page, but she was utterly frozen, unmoving, her gaze fixed on a faraway point I could not see. What was she thinking about?
Suddenly, her eyes snapped to me, and she straightened, as if jolted from her stupor. “If you’re to attend the revel, you need a new dress. Enzira is your maid, right? I’ll send for her. She can escort you to your rooms and get you ready.”
“No, there’s no need—” I started, but Tislora had already crossed the room and pulled a small rope hanging from the ceiling .
A few moments later, an unfamiliar servant appeared, and Tislora said to him, “Send for Enzira, please.”
The servant bowed and left.
I sighed. “I can return to my rooms on my own.”
“Can you?” Tislora’s voice was filled with amusement.
In spite of the situation, my mouth twitched with the hint of a smile. “Well, perhaps not. But I’d wager everyone has trouble finding their way in this castle.”
“True,” Tislora said.
I watched her stir the contents of the cauldron again. The steam had dissipated, but the room was still sweltering. It didn’t seem to affect Tislora, who wore her usual black robes that fell down to her wrists and gathered along the floor like the train of a wedding gown.
Enzira appeared in the doorway, and her face paled when she noticed me. “My lady.” She pressed a fist to her chest and hurried over to me, gently grasping my elbow. “Your room. Please.”
I nodded. “Yes, I’m sorry. I got lost.” I let her guide me out the door. Just as we reached the hallway, Tislora’s voice floated after us.
“See you at the revel, human.”