45. Chapter Forty-Five
45
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
ELODIE
A short while later, I was standing in a circular chamber. A staircase ran along walls that spiralled higher than I could make out. I looked back down before I could give myself vertigo while wondering what in the gods I was doing here.
Alouette had helped me to put Kaius’ ruined jumper on. Rolling the sleeves as Healer Kale pressed a cup of cold liquid into my hands, telling me to ‘drink up’ before instructing me to continue feeding my magik into my wounds, and to find him in a couple of days. I downed the cup which must have had something a little special in it, because it woke me up and eased my aching muscles enough that when I was then practically pushed out of the healer's space, it didn’t hurt too bad.
Who am I kidding, it hurts like fuck.
That’s how I’d found myself here, alone, staring at the hundreds of frames crammed on the walls, all different sizes, all different colours. There were tiny black ones containing photographs of what looked like a multitude of different birds, to huge ornate golden frames that held beautifully painted pictures of people who all looked vaguely bored. There were paintings of flowers, and posters of what I thought were movies. A huge photo of two people hugging that could easily have been life size.
Where the hell did they get a printer that big?
Between the random mess of frames, stones had been removed from the wall, and the space they left crammed with books. There was no rhyme or reason, and the more I looked, the more confused I became. Empty bird cages hung on hooks around the room, all their doors open.
Thick patterned rugs blanketed the floor, and a collection of mismatched armchairs were arranged in a circle around a small, empty, and also circular, table. A workbench ran around half the room, curved to the shape of the walls and containing a whole load of... stuff.
It was a jumbled collection of items I couldn’t even begin to name. Lumps of twisted metal holding jewels the size of my fist, delicate stringed instruments that I was sure I’d never seen before. Heaps of scrolls that looked suspiciously like skin that I decided to steer well clear of. The air smelt faintly like burnt herbs, and I wondered if there was incense burning somewhere.
A low fire crackled in the fireplace built into a hollow in the brickwork. Stepping closer, I noticed that within the fireplace, more stone had been removed, and more books had been stuffed inside.
Who in the gods keeps their books inside a fireplace?
I moved forward for a better look, wondering whether I should try and get them out, when a whoosh of magik settled in the room.
“They like it in there.” A voice spoke from way too close, and I yelped as I spun around, putting myself much closer to the fire than I would have liked, my back niggling uncomfortably at the sudden jolt.
“What?” I stammered at the man smiling down at me, the thick white beard that neatly covered his jaw twitching as he did.
“The books.” He gestured towards the fire with the pipe clutched in his hand. “They enjoy the heat.”
That explains the smell, but where the fuck did he come from?
“The books… enjoy the heat.”
“Mhm,” he hummed, dark eyes twinkling before stepping back, allowing me to move from the fire.
He was a tall man, with loose black trousers and matching top hanging from his thin frame, and a velvet, dark-purple smoking jacket was belted at his waist. Raising his pipe to his lips, he took a pull before breathing out the smoke which curled in the air around his white hair, and he said nothing as it whirled through the space longer than it should have.
“I was told to come here,” I explained, feeling awkward that I had invaded his space.
“I know.” He inclined his head to me.
“That you could help with my magik.”
“I know.”
“Right,” I mumbled, unsure of where to go next with this conversation.
“I know a great many things. Now come sit and tell me of the things that I don’t know.” He gestured to the gathering of chairs behind him and made his way over to an overstuffed, floral one.
“Like?” I asked, not moving from my spot by the fire.
“Like who you are.”
“I thought you knew I was coming.” A faint rustle of wings from far above me caught my attention.
“Knowing you were coming and knowing who you are, are two very different things.” I looked back down, and again he gestured to the seats around him.
Slowly, I moved, choosing the chair directly opposite him—a hard, red leather, wingback with no give whatsoever. I was mad at myself—and so was my aching body—for not being smarter and choosing one of the comfier options, as he sank back into his and crossed one leg over the other. It was then I noticed the thick carpet slippers he wore on his feet and looked down at my mud-covered shoes, and then at the scuffs of mud I had trailed in here without thinking.
“There’s nothing to worry about, Margot enjoys cleaning,” he said, as if sensing my train of thought, lined faced crinkling with the soft smile he offered me.
I had nothing to say, so I just nodded, intending on keeping my feet as still as possible in order to give Margot less to clean. With another pull of the pipe, blooms of smoke stretched between us. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell, and the wisps seemed to have a mind of their own, dancing a pattern that twisted and rolled.
“So, I’ll ask again,” he started, not unkindly. “Who are you, Elodie?”
I shouldn’t be surprised he knew my name, considering Bastian had demanded for me to come here, but it unnerved me all the same.
Who was I? I wasn’t sure even I had the answer to that question anymore.
More to the point, who was he?
“I don’t know.” My voice was quiet as I put that truth out between us. “Not anymore at least.”
“But you used to know?”
I frowned in thought. “I don’t know,” I repeated lamely. “Maybe I never did.”
“It would seem that if you don’t know and I don’t know, it can be a discovery we make together.”
“Is that what I’m here for? So you can feed Bastian information on who I am, so he can continue to keep everything from me?” I accused.
“Not at all. You’re here for whatever I decide you’re here for. And I decide that at the beginning is where we shall start.” Strangely, I believed him.
“I.” He placed a hand on his heart before continuing. “Am Aumanus Aquila Clement Ardenas, but for the sake of ease, you may call me Arden.”
Good job, too, because that’s a mouthful.
“And you are Elodie.”
“Yes.”
“Good. Tell me about life before the castle.”
“Before I was kidnapped, you mean.”
“Indeed.” A light laugh fell from his lips.
“What’s there to tell? I’m an orphan who grew up with her nan. I lived—live—in a cute little cottage with my dog. My best friend has a different hobby each week that she tries to drag me into, and Nanna's crazy friend turns up every now and then. And I make jewellery which I sell online.”
“Sounds perfectly average.” Another bloom of smoke billowed between us and began twisting into shapes before it dissipated.
“It is. A perfectly normal, human, life.”
Why did I feel the need to specify human?
“From what I’ve heard, you’re anything but average. Have you had your power levels tested yet, or has Bastian been stubbornly keeping you in the dark of even that?”
“If he has, then I know nothing about it.”
“Well, looks like we’ll get to find out for ourselves.” With a flick of his wrist, his pipe disappeared, and he unfolded himself from the chair, crossing to the workbench that held the jumble of objects. Items shifted and rattled as he sorted through them, before he released a noise of satisfaction and turned back towards where I sat, a smile causing the lines at his eyes to wrinkle even deeper.
“I haven’t done one of these in a long time,” he mused. “But they’re always exciting.”
Seating himself, he placed the object he had collected on the table in front of us. It was a thick bronze tube no longer than a pen, the middle section bulging slightly. The whole thing emitted a faint humming sound that made my energy buzz in excitement despite its fatigue
“What does it do?” I asked, knowing I couldn’t take any more pain today.
“It’s an ergeia cognitio. It will give us a more accurate reading of your power level instead of you wandering around with no idea of your capabilities.”
Not taking my eyes off the little tube, I asked. “Will it hurt?”
“No, my dear. It is mostly used on children; it will not harm you.” I met his soft eyes as they creased with concern.
“He really hasn’t told you anything, has he?” Knowing exactly who he was talking about, I shook my head.
“Throughout our kingdoms, every Fae holds power—magik,” he started with a sigh, obviously taking pity on my complete lack of knowledge. “Our power level is determined from birth, with our element inherited from our most powerful parent, your power level will also roughly match theirs, too. Higher power levels tend to stay within families, the Royal Lines being the best example of that power hierarchy. There are other families who are, of course, powerful and forever looking to match their offspring with other high level lines in order to gain power.” I listened, desperately trying to keep up.
“Sometimes, the Goddesses have their wicked way with us and send an Anomaly. A child born whose power level hugely surpasses that of their parents and, though they are loath to admit, even some of those within the Royal Line. It is often detected quickly, as you can imagine, the things that little Fae get up to without adding vast amounts of power to the mix.”
“What happens to the child?”
“Nothing happens to them, Elodie, but oftentimes it’s necessary for others to step in and ensure the child has someone to guide them in ways their parents cannot.”
“So, they’re taken away?” My mouth gaped with the image of crying children being ripped from their parents’ arms.
“They’re sent to a school, my dear. Or offered a place, though it’s down to them if they want to accept. It's merely a way for them to gain control over who they are. The power they can wield.”
“Right.” I looked again at the object on the table, glinting in the light. “What do I need to do?”
“Hold it in your fist as tight as you can and open your mind. Don’t fight against it. I know that may be difficult as an adult, but you are safe here.”
“I don’t know how well this will work, I’m not sure what I’ve even got left to test.”
“Just trust the process.”
Not exactly reassured, I slowly reached for the bronze tube and closed my fist around the cold metal, unsure at how my magik was pulsing under my skin. As soon as my fingers closed around it, it began to heat, moulding to my hand like I was gripping a lump of clay. It was strange but not unpleasant, and I flicked my eyes towards Arden to ensure that this was right. He nodded in approval as he leaned closer, and I allowed my eyes to close.
The heat from the ergeia cognitio radiated through my hand, as its own energy spread up me.
No, it was inside me.
It raced along with my own, who welcomed it with open arms—without the slightest hesitation.
This wasn’t the raging, feral energy that had fought against Healer Kale. The two magiks raced through me, my own seemingly showing it the way to every part of me like some grand house tour it was showing to one of its friends.
Together, they found my heart, and I gulped down a breath as they engulfed it in their combined power. Raw energy filled me then, no trace of the exhaustion from fighting off The Darkness.
My eyes opened, fixing on my clenched fist, and where there had once been smooth unblemished bronze, the metal was glowing with hundreds of tiny symbols. The power grew inside me, my head light as the energy didn’t stop. The symbols grew brighter until beams of light shone from them. It was beginning to feel like too much, like my body wouldn’t be able to contain it.
If it kept growing like it was; could it rip me apart?
Before I could spiral from that thought, the connection snapped, and the ergeia cognitio was instantly cold under my skin. Gasping at the suddenness with which my magik had retreated, the bronze clanged against the table as it dropped from my grasp. I frantically reached for that store of energy inside me, shuddering in relief when it answered my call.
The symbols were no longer visible, yet the metal had formed in the imprint of a fist, rivets and dips marked where my hand had fit around it perfectly. Slowly, it smoothed itself out, the room far quieter than it had seemed a moment ago.
“You’ve done well.” Arden’s voice was soft. “How do you feel?”
“Tired.” I forced my heavy eyelids to stay open.
“Naturally so.” His fingers twitched, and the black pipe appeared again; he held it out to me in offering, but I shook my head. Another twitch and it was gone.
“It would seem, from what the ergeia cognitio has shown me, that you are indeed an Anomaly. One of the most powerful I’ve yet had the pleasure of testing. As we are both aware, I know nothing of your parents, nor their magik. However, with levels like this, should they have been even a fraction near you, it would more than likely be known,” he said bluntly.
“Your magik,” he continued, his head tilting slightly as he watched me. “Being here was your first experience with it?”
“No,” I breathed out, unwilling to hold back when it seemed I was on my way to some answers.
“You had control over your magik while in the mortal realm?”
Mortal realm?
“Yes, but it was nothing like what I feel now. Is that not normal?”
“It’s uncommon, but makes sense with the power level you are displaying, and the fact I can see there’s potential you haven’t even tapped into or aren’t able to. It’s also a reasonable conclusion that you are indeed Fae.”
“But I—” I began to protest.
“You don’t see how you can be Fae.”
“Can you read minds, too?”
“No, my dear, I’m just very old and very good at reading people .” Arden settled back in the soft armchair, leaning his elbows on the armrests and steepling his fingers together.
“I just don’t understand how.” My voice was quiet as the edges of exhaustion crept up on me once again.
“Your parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, and so on, were Fae. That’s how.”
I blinked at him, not yet willing to feel the repercussion of his words. “Then why don’t I know anything about being Fae? How is this not my home?”
“There are a few ways I can think of in which it would be possible, and more than likely many other ways that even I don’t know of. For example, across our world, there are portals. Some are tiny pockets that provide a mere sliver of window into another realm, where others may be a door or even an entire field. Most are controlled by their respective kingdoms, however, there could be hundreds that we don’t know about, for our world is vast and wild with many untouched places. It wouldn’t be hard for a wandering Fae child to accidentally fall through with no idea how to come back.” His dark eyes surveyed me, perched on the hard leather chair.
“Perhaps you are a changeling,” he continued, “a Fae baby sent to the mortal realm and switched with a human one.”
“Why would someone do that?” I asked, horrified at the thought.
“Why do people do anything? I would like to know more about your parents.”
“I can’t give you much. I don’t really remember much about them except that they died in an accident.”
“I see, how old were you?”
“Seven.”
“You said you lived with your Nanna. Did she never tell you anything about them?”
I swallowed thickly. “I never asked.” Confusion was almost overwhelming me as I tried to find any memory of my parents, but there were none. If I were honest with myself, I only knew what they looked like because Nanna had given me a photo of them. Why did I never ask more questions? What type of person wouldn’t want to know about their parents?
“You have no reason to believe that they weren’t your real parents?”
“None.”
“Any other family, no brothers or sisters?”
“Just Nanna and her friend Briar.” A scuffle of wings came from high above, and a large, single, black feather floated down towards us, landing softly in Arden’s lap. He held it gently between his fingers, a small smile playing on his lips.
“I see.”
Was that to me or the feather?
“The others,” Arden started slowly, “they had magik, too, didn't they?”
“N—” I began, before pulling back the lie I was about to speak and nodding my head instead.
“While there have been a few rare cases across the millennia where a human has exhibited signs of magik, a Fae child cannot be born to human parents, nor can they be born anywhere but here.” His eyes pierced into me as my mind raced to catch up.
“Do you understand what I’m telling you, Elodie?”
“Yes,” I breathed out shakily, because I finally did.
“You are Fae, which means your parents were Fae. Your Nanna—Fae. You are an Anomaly who was raised in the mortal realm, who still managed to retain control over her magik; regardless of how little you were able to access.”
“Why?” My words no more than a whisper.
Why did I know nothing about this?
Why had my only family lied to me my whole life?
Why did his words feel so right?
The sting of betrayal echoed the sting of tears that pricked my eyes, and I slumped back against the uncomfortable chair, forgetting again about my freshly closed wounds until the slice of pain reminded me.
“That is an answer I cannot give you, my dear. Though there are other answers we can attempt to discover together if it’s something you want.”
My mind swam with the reality that my life had been a lie. Whatever drink I had been given earlier must have begun wearing off, because my body felt weighed down with the exhaustion of the day. My bones a lead as heavy as the truth that had been uncovered.
And I knew it was the truth; I could feel it deep in those heavy bones. In the magik dancing through my blood and trickling from my fingertips.
“Return here tomorrow. Alouette will bring you, and we can see what can be done.” Arden’s dark eyes assessed me, but I couldn’t find it in me to meet his gaze.
“I think you would benefit from some time in the Fyria Caves before you get some rest. The sacred waters will help to speed up the healing of your physical injuries. In turn, that will help keep your mind clear, which is important if you are to start lessons.”
I perked up at his words. “You’re still going to teach me?”
“Of course I am, can’t have you running around with no control. What a hazard that would be to the rest of us.” He winked at me, and I couldn’t help the small laugh that came out until it pulled at the deep wounds still embedded under my skin.
Wincing at the twinge of pain that streaked down my spine, I could no longer hold back the question I had been determined to ignore.
“Why me? Why was I the one it attacked?”
Arden waited for a moment, wise eyes surveying me as I looked to him for answers.
“That, for now, is a question I do not have the answer to. It could be a random attack. It could be you were the most powerful, therefore the biggest threat.” I blinked back my surprise at that statement. “It could be something more sinister than that.”
Silence stretched between us for a heartbeat as I took in his words.
“Now, go and rest. The caves are the perfect place for it, water from the fountain of the Goddess Blessed is coaxed into it, and when used in such tiny amounts, it can be a wonderful healer, so no need to worry. It’s completely safe.”
A memory half formed in my mind from his words, but I was too tired to take much notice as I stood and followed Arden to the door. Another whisper of wings came from above, and as I looked up, another feather began to descend towards us. This one was white, and it floated slowly in front of me as I held my hand up to catch it.
“She likes you.” Arden smiled widely at me before opening the door and ushering me out.
“Who does?” I asked.
“I shall see you tomorrow, Elodie, daughter of the Fae.”