Chapter 17 #2
“No.” His voice gentled. “I’m only showing you what they must be thinking, up above, and what they may do with it.
Consider how you are seen, how you let yourself be seen.
Think before you move. You must learn to be shrewd, Gazelle, if you mean to clear your name.
I have offered to help you, but you don’t trust me.
I can’t force trust, and I can’t stop you wondering whether I am what I claim.
I have my own ends. I’ve never hidden that from you.
” His eyes held mine. “But do not come into my kingdom and accuse me of being something I am not, just like up there they accuse you of being something you are not.”
I’d been wrong. I’d insulted him, and now I saw it. Unsure what to say, I followed him out, feeling the tension stretch between us as we walked.
He crossed the passageway, and as the light grew brighter, I realized we were on a balcony—no, not a balcony but a tier—overlooking a cascade of floors, halls, and passages, and open-air galleries that went down as far as the eye could see.
And from somewhere down there was the glowing blue light, casting a shimmering brightness about us.
My breath caught. It was beautiful, beyond anything I could explain. It glowed, and tiny motes escaped from it, like jewels floating in the air, carrying the light near and far. A calm filled me, and I thought, If this is the hall of demons, it is not one of torment or fear, but of peace.
I could live with that.
A feeling came over me, a floating effortlessness, and I thought I wanted to lie down and go to sleep, a dreamless sleep. Or, at last, one full of sweetness, where all the hopes and joys hidden in my heart came true.
Airen kept walking, one hand trailing along the rail. I saw he wore a red ring on one finger, circlets of gold on some of the others. My stomach did a flip-flop, and then he pointed away from the expanse to a wall of glass.
On the other side was another bedroom, similar to Airen’s with plush carpets on the floor, rich tapestries on the wall.
And on the bed, wide enough for three or four, a man lay on his side, golden hair spilling down his back.
He was a big man, almost a giant, his bare chest rising and falling, his bulky muscles plain even in sleep.
“That is Thadis. Keeper of Arms, my bodyguard, when he is awake. The best warrior in the realm. He has a fierce temper, and when he’s not at war, he likes to indulge, which is often his downfall. I would like him to wake, to amuse me with his boisterous spirit once again.”
I said nothing but followed him. Thadis did not look like a demon.
At the next room, he paused again. A woman lay on the bed, beautiful, with long black hair, a voluptuous body, and pale skin.
Her blood-red lips were parted, one hand flung above her head.
“This is Vadella,” Airen began. “People called her a witch because she can speak to animals, and they do her bidding. She lived in the hills in the forest, and the wolves guarded her, and the city.”
Vadella did not look like a demon either.
At the next room slept a girl, about the same age I’d been when my family was taken from me.
“This is Kiya. She’s a shapeshifter. She can morph and shift to look like anything living.
The last person she mirrored was a child, so now she appears like a child in slumber.
She changes so often, no one remembers her true face. I don’t believe she does either.”
Another room. A sleeping man with red hair and pointed ears and a thick beard. “This is Becamel. He’s a mason. He shapes stone simply by laying his hands on rock and speaking. He sculpted many of the statues in my kingdom.”
And so it went, room by room. Airen patiently walked me through his kingdom, level by level.
Showing me the sleeping demigods, introducing them, and telling me a story of their magic, their great feats.
A woman who could weave the future into tapestries.
A dream walker who would steal into your dreams and cause chaos.
A storm lord who could cause rain, wind, or lightning, depending on his mood.
My steps grew slower as the night wore on, and an apology rose in my throat. I’d been wrong. I’d misjudged him this entire time. Now that I’d seen with my own eyes, it only confirmed it. Demigods had magic, and perhaps they were misunderstood, but should they be forced to sleep for eternity?
They were alive, the same way the people in my city were alive. Should I be the one to deny them life when it was mine to give?
I tried to think from Airen’s perspective. How frustrated he must be with me. How it must gall him when he held the means to compel me, to bend me with his music, yet he hadn’t. He’d taken the time to explain, to show me, because I could not trust his word alone.
I still had questions. I was still uneasy about the demons, but with him, I had no more quarrel.
There were more levels, more rooms to go, but we’d already walked for so long, I felt as though I might drop. My own bed felt far away, so I laid my hand on his arm, squeezing gently.
“King Airen, I’m sorry.” The words hurt to say, but they were true. “I was wrong. I let my fears rule me. Please forgive me.”
“I already have,” he said, gazing off into the distance.
When he faced me, there was something behind those green eyes I could not explain. It flickered, then died, and something within me ached to see it again.
“I should sleep,” I added. “But I promise to come again, and we will dance.”
His gaze moved over my face, settling on my mouth. The pull dragged at me, and for a breath, I was certain he would finally close the space between us.
Instead, the world went soft at the edges. I felt myself going—swaying, swooning—and then my legs went out from under me.
He caught me and lifted me in his arms. “Sleep,” he murmured. “Sleep.”