Chapter 17 An Upgrade
An Upgrade
No sooner had I given the question life than the air around us grew heavy, as if to suffocate it. Caius’ expression was devoid of any lightness it’d held moments before, and I couldn’t help but notice how he rarely guarded his expression in front of Endymion—or vice versa.
“We don’t know yet,” Endymion said with a shake of his head.
As if loath to admit it, power pulsed off of him in slow, steady waves, making my fingers tingle in response.
I shook my hands out trying to dispel the feeling; not that it was uncomfortable.
Not at all. It was just too… intimate. Endymion marked the movement and tilted his head a fraction as if confused.
A blink later his magic snapped back to him, and I wondered if he’d even noticed that it’d reached out to me in the first place.
“I need to get back and reassess the situation,” he said, as if nothing happened.
“It’s only a matter of time before my troops have scoured the human lands and I’m forced to shift their focus to our realm.
Two things are in our favor, though: the fact that you’re here, safe”—he glanced at Caius, who nodded—"and that Thaddeus has no idea you left on your own volition. For all he knows, Wymond or Amos could’ve taken you. "
I scoffed. Of course the king wouldn’t think I’d left. I was too well trained for that. As the bitter thought lingered, I stabbed a piece of fruit harder than necessary, and the tines screeched against the plate.
“And the twins?” I asked, my words strong but hollow. We’d just begun this conversation, and I was already over it.
“That’s something else I’ll have to assess.”
“Shocking,” I said, the word dripping with sarcasm as my mood soured further. Unwittingly or not, his answer was no different than Thaddeus’ when I’d asked after the twins that first day in his study.
My patience was waning.
Fruit forgotten, my fork clattered against the plate as I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms.
Silence reigned as Endymion absorbed my words like the accusation I’d intended. It was evident in the tick of his jaw. The whitening knuckles around his utensil. The dilated pupils.
All delicious indicators that I’d hit my mark.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “If there’s something you want to say, then say it plainly, Nyleeria.”
There was something in his tone that was challenging. Not against me, but as if opening the door for him to prove that he wasn’t Thaddeus, and it drew me up short.
What—specifically—did I want?
I’d been so busy running away from what I didn’t want that I hadn’t discerned what I wanted, let alone articulated it to them. Leaning forward in my chair, I idly tapped a finger against the table.
What did I want?
What would show me—truly show me—that these fae were different?
And then, it hit me.
Hand now idle, I spared a glance to a relaxed Caius before shifting it to an expectant Endymion, who seemed to be holding his breath for my next words.
“You asked if there was anything you could do,” I finally said, recalling his offer.
He nodded, eyes dancing as if he’d been waiting for those exact words.
“I want the twins free,” I said, suddenly nervous from my declaration.
“I don’t care that stasis is harmless; Thaddeus and Wymond aren’t.
And since they’re currently being held in the Autumn Court, I want you to free them.
” I stole a nervous glance to Caius, then back, waiting for them to shut me down, deny me, or tell me all the reasons it couldn’t be done or that I shouldn’t care—but they didn’t, so I continued.
“If after six weeks Endymion is unable to deliver on my request, then”—I turned my focus to Caius—"the Summer Court will have two weeks to retrieve them. "
“And what if we fail?” the High Lord said without hesitation.
“Failing is different than not trying.”
“And in exchange?” he pressed.
I shook my head. “Endymion asked what I wanted, not what I was willing to trade.” Swallowing hard, I looked to him in confirmation and could’ve sworn pride radiated from him.
“Caius?” Endymion asked, though I wasn’t sure what his question was.
As if understanding what I hadn’t, the summer lord took in a deep breath, then leaned back in his chair in the customary ankle-over-knee position I was starting to recognize as his pondering stance.
“It’s nothing I wouldn’t promise Artton or Sidrick if their only remaining relatives were in Wymond’s hands. ” He gestured to the empty chairs.
“Agreed,” Endymion echoed.
“So, that’s a yes?” I asked, suddenly unsure. My body coiled, waiting for the inevitable backtracking I was about to receive.
Endymion leaned in closer. “It’s a yes, Nyleeria.”
I swallowed hard, biting back the flood of relief, and fear, and hope, and so much more as my eyes burned with emotion.
“Thank you,” I croaked.
“In the interim,” Caius said as if what they’d just offered me was nothing, “we’ll work on controlling your powers—starting today.”
“Today?” I asked with unguarded surprise.
A wide smile broke across his face. “Yes.” He chuckled.
“That’s what you get for going all Autumn Fae on Kai yesterday.
Besides, we have to make sure you’re expelling enough on a daily basis.
By Endymion’s best estimate, it only takes about twelve hours before you’re taking on excess—which is alarmingly fast.”
“And you’re going to train me?”
“To start, yes.”
“On that note,” Endymion said, standing up. “I have to get going. Wymond will ask questions if I miss another daily brief.”
“Now?” My voice pitched up despite myself.
“I have to grab some things first, but after, yes.”
The pit in my chest that the spark swirled around earlier seemed to grow.
Standing, Caius met Endymion halfway and embraced him hand to elbow.
“Be well,” Caius offered the commander.
“And you, old friend.”
Endymion released his hand, then gave Caius a firm pat on the back before turning his attention to me.
I stood, speaking before he could. “I’ll walk with you, if that’s okay?”
A smile bloomed across his face. “It would be my pleasure.”
“I’ll meet you in the courtyard in an hour,” Caius said.
“Perfect,” I said, then turned my attention to Endymion, who gestured for me to go first.
I offered a small smile as I stepped past him, wholly unsure as to why I’d asked to walk with him in the first place; truth was, ever since I knew he was leaving, there was a heavy sensation lingering in my chest. It was akin to anxiety, only duller, and I couldn’t fully discern if the feeling was from the spark or me—either way, there was a palpable sense of unease.
Following by Endymion’s side, he led us down a short hallway I didn’t recognize, and then another before we entered the residence wing in half the time it normally took.
I made a mental note of the artery, not just for its efficiency, but because we hadn’t seen a soul.
With the exception of the residence wing, hallways were almost always abuzz during the day with fae going about their daily lives.
“How did you find out about your parents?” Endymion’s low words startled me, kicking me out of my thoughts.
“I’m sorry?” I said, stopping.
He turned to face me. “I’m assuming Thaddeus didn’t tell you he was responsible for your parents’ deaths, so how did you find out?”
“Oh.” I shrugged and continued to walk. “I’m not really sure how to describe it. I had this vision of an argument he and Tarrin got into.”
It was his turn to stop and look at me, a faint line etched between his brows. “And then what?”
Shrugging again, I continued down the long corridor. “I stole Luca.”
“And you don’t think it’s strange that you had a vision?” he asked, his long strides catching him up to me.
“I mean, the voices were a bit creepy, and I was gutted—of course—but of all the strange things that have happened in the past year, it’s not even in the top ten.”
The corner of his mouth ticked up. “No, I suppose not.”
Something about his line of questioning had me wondering about my first night in the Summer Court as fae. “You know the dream I had, the one with Thaddeus and Wymond.”
He craned his neck, eyebrow popped. “If you mean the night terror where they both tried to siphon your powers, then yes.”
Side-stepping the implication as we passed through another archway, I said, “I was wondering, are you able to… um… I don’t know… maybe write me—like send a letter when you’re back in autumn?” I cringed, suddenly aware that it might be yet another stupid question to ask a fae.
His mouth quirked up in a way I was starting to recognize was amusement. “In a sense. Why?”
“Well, it made me worried for Tarrin. With Thaddeus' deal with Wymond, you’ll most likely see Tarrin, and I need to know that he’s okay—that I’m just being paranoid.”
He turned to face me so fast that I took a half-step back.
“What?” I said, suddenly on guard.
Tension lines pulled at the side of his mouth, his eyes going darker as they bore into me. “First,” he said with lethal calm, “stop calling it a dream. Second, why in the name of the old gods would you care what happens to him?”
My eyes bounced between his. “What do you mean? Tarrin didn’t do anything.”
“Exactly.” The single word was biting enough that it bounced down the corridor.
“He didn’t do anything,” Endymion pressed.
“He didn’t interject, or stop it before it happened.
He didn’t try to find a way to tell you about their perverse connection.
He. Did. Nothing. Nobody did anything to help you.
To protect you. And if you hadn’t found out about your parents and left when you did…
” He shook his head, face falling. “Stars only know if you’d still be alive.
You had to run away. Physically, run.” The intense rage emanating from him was strong enough that I had to stop myself from taking another step back.
Not out of fear, but to get oxygen. “And as far as I’m concerned,” he added, “that damn horse will never be his again.”