Chapter Twenty-Seven
O f course, it wasn’t that easy.
Damn incubus! I thought a short time later. Because Pritkin’s other half had had far less power than I’d expected. Regardless of what he said, he must have been helping his counterpart on the way here, and by the time I finished freeing them from Zeus’s curse and shifted us out of the damned cell, we’d used up most of that.
Which was a problem, as Bodil’s fey were everywhere, and it looked like they’d been warned that we might find some way out of our cage. They were on us before we’d gone ten yards. And I do mean on us.
One took me down in a flying leap before Pritkin pulled him off, and another dropped on top of us from a hidden perch we’d never even seen, all while bellowing for backup. And as soon as we took care of one group, another appeared. And Pritkin didn’t want to immolate them because these were the good guys!
Or as close as this place ever got.
So, that made shifting them necessary, or trapping them behind power-sucking wards, or doing Somnolence spells that, as it turned out, weren’t much easier on our power reserves. All while on a mad scramble through a maze of tunnels with more guards launching themselves at us at seemingly every turn. And I now understood why they wore those black outfits, as they were almost impossible to see in the dim lighting.
It was like fighting off a bunch of damned ninjas that appeared out of nowhere every time we looked. Another grabbed me on an incline, and Pritkin slammed him into the wall with a sticky, white, spider-silk-looking spell I’d seen him use a few times before. And then we were scrambling up an area that absolutely should have had stairs because it felt like my ankles were bent totally the wrong way.
And, of course, there were more guards at the top, firing down at us. And some we’d missed or new ones that had come up behind, doing the same. And us shielding like bastards in between while I shifted whoever I could see through the spell fire and thought about shifting us back to the room, but we could hear the trumpets echoing even down here, announcing the start of the next challenge. Pritkin said we were almost there, and so we kept going.
He lobbed sticky spell after sticky spell at the mob outside our shield, which the crazy bastards were grabbing the sides of and jumping on top, trying to slow us down with their weight alone. And it was working. Cursing fey ended up dotting the walls, floor, and, in one case, the ceiling, as Pritkin caught one halfway through a leap, yet still, they came.
You had to give them points for resilience, I thought, and shifted half a dozen into the canal.
But it was getting harder. We were battling a whole platoon on our own, and while it appeared to be working since we were still on our feet, it was draining us—fast. This needed to end!
Pritkin finally dropped the shield and we ran for it, having finally cleared the fey in front of us. But more were coming on little cat feet from behind, and they were barefoot. There were no boots to ring out here and give us any warning.
So, half the time, I didn’t hear them before some spell tripped me up and had me face-planting. Or a numbing curse clipped my shin on the way past and had me dragging that leg for what felt like half a mile. Or a web came spiraling out of the darkness and grabbed my hair instead of my body.
That last one had been fired too high because the fey weren’t used to aiming at someone my height. But it had enough momentum to rip me off my feet and drag me down the hall before affixing me to a protruding bit of stone overhead, like a circus performer dangling from her ponytail. Only I wasn’t one, and it freaking hurt, not to mention that I couldn’t get down!
Pritkin caught up with me, released me on the fly, and dragged me further up the corridor, my scalp aching, my deadened foot stumbling, and spell fire we could no longer shield against hitting the walls on all sides. The only good thing was that they didn’t seem to be trying to kill us, which was a nice change. But it was still infuriating!
And then we were out, stumbling from the dank, dimly lit tunnels through a door and into—
I couldn’t tell. I’d just been hit by a wall of heat, sound, and sunlight so bright that it completely blinded me. It felt like a slap to the face, and the roar accompanying it was like the follow-up punch.
My ears crackled, my eyes fought to adjust, and my translator spell gave the hell up and shut down, leaving me with no idea what anybody was saying, shrieking, singing, or laughing about.
But they were doing a lot of it.
I was momentarily stunned, but it didn’t affect Pritkin the same way. He yelled something at me that I couldn’t make out even this close, grasped my hand, and started forging a path through a crowd so thick that it felt like a solid wall of people. He also jerked the hood of my borrowed cape over my face even though his was still out in the open.
Only it wasn’t the one I was used to, I realized, as my vision slowly adjusted.
I found myself in a dazzlingly sunny day amid a smear of color, vibrancy, and life, surrounded by what looked like all the people in the world, and holding the hand of a pop-eyed fey with bright blue hair and a goatee. It took me a second to realize that Pritkin had flung a glamourie over himself but was conserving magic where I was concerned as I had a hood. I shrank back into it because there were a lot of guards in the colorful crowd, not to mention over the top of it.
The latter were perched on overhangs and rocky outcroppings above a great open space that reminded me of a canyon. The more or less level ground area ran through and around giant black rock fingers erupting from the soil and spearing six or more stories into the air. And the surrounding cliffs were even taller.
Patches of what looked like sailcloth had been stretched between some of the former to provide shade to the many merchants with stalls underneath, although that wouldn’t be the case for much longer. Some of the purple-haired guards were going around, cutting the ropes holding the sails in place, despite the protests from sellers and buyers alike. The guards ignored them because they weren’t interested in people’s comfort.
They were interested in us and wanted a clear field of vision.
And they were getting one.
A larger-than-average sail, maybe because it was anchored to some of the cliffs, collapsed without warning onto the crowd below, causing shouts of anger from the people trapped underneath. We edged around, staying in the traffic flow as hundreds fought their way free, and were pushed toward one of the black rock columns in the process, like a couple of leaves being born downstream in a gale. Fortunately, one of the leaves had some magic left and managed to forge a path for us back toward the line of stalls hugging the cliffs.
The crowd was thicker there, but the pace was slower as people waited in long lines to be served. I barely noticed, being too busy watching the watchers, which included four fey on top of the huge pillar we’d just missed, sitting under their own shelter. The wind was up and whipping the brown material of their tarpaulin around, along with their hair, causing one to pull his back into a ponytail.
They didn’t appear to have binoculars, but those were fey eyes; they didn’t need them if they were paying attention. And they were, their grim faces contrasting with the laughing, excited throng. Probably worried about what Feltin would do if they didn’t bring our heads back on a platter, I thought.
Since I liked mine where it was, I put it down and hoped my height wouldn’t give me away.
It didn’t seem likely.
This crowd wasn’t the usual seven-foot-tall willowy type I had become used to in the lands of the fey. It was of all sizes and varieties, including some I’d never seen before. And some that I was pretty sure nobody had ever seen before, with the combo of dark fey, light fey, and human genes making a hell of a soup.
A trio of giggling, three-foot-tall women with pointy ears, big noses, and wild green hair pushed past, looking almost exactly like the troll dolls sold in gift shops. They were eating stuffed squid and using their sharp elbows to cut a swath through the crowd. And they didn’t get so much as a glance from anyone, except for some of the people they jostled out of the way.
Because cotton candy hair was everywhere, in pinks, lavenders, blues, and greens, and in every style from afros to wild tufts, and from sleek, silky braids to elaborate updos. The facial features matched the hair, ranging from the delicate elfin variety to the bulbous and ogre-ish and everything in between. I saw a nine-foot-tall shaggy creature that could have doubled for Big Foot; a couple of stocky, lizard-headed guys like the ones I’d seen on a recent trip to the realm of the dragon lords; a lovely blonde woman with bright green skin, a slim build and delicate ogre’s tusks; and a swarm of pixies flying overhead, collectively carting around a large paper spill of spicy red shrimp that they were sharing between them.
Again, they attracted no one’s attention but mine, possibly because, around here, that was perfectly normal behavior or because there were a hundred other things to see.
Pritkin towed me through the crowd, taking the brunt of the work himself and leaving me to gape around in wonder. At the huge waterfall at the end of the ample open space, cascading over a cliff so high that I couldn’t see the top from here and misting the nearby crowd as if a light rain was falling; at the mass of vendors calling out their wares, which seemed to consist of every type of seafood imaginable prepared in every kind of way, including some prawns as big as my two fists being grilled over an open flame that looked delicious but the seller was mobbed; at the musicians on a dias, tuning up some instruments I didn’t recognize; and at the streamers and banners snapping in the wind, with what I guessed were the different challengers’ emblems on them, although I didn’t see ours. And then I realized that I didn’t even know what ours was supposed to look like, and started to ask Pritkin, when he shoved a spill of small, fried, soft shelled crabs into my hands.
I had no idea how he’d managed to acquire them but didn’t care as they were warm and smelled sweet and spicy and—
“Eat,” he yelled. “It distorts the face!”
He didn’t have to tell me twice.
I ate, stuffing my cheeks with the little things, and they were amazing, or maybe I was just starving. And so were some shrimps like those the pixies had had, a spill of which was tossed to us by a vendor after Pritkin lobbed him a coin in passing and which were hot enough that I thought the top of my head would come off. But instead, we picked up a cold brew from a wandering giant-sized seller with massive kegs on each burly shoulder and found it to be pink, punchy, and vaguely beer-like, as if a nice wheat beer had been mixed with Kool-Aid.
I’d have eaten and drunk more, but suddenly, we were there, having traversed the length of what I guessed was Fountain Court, although I had yet to see a fountain. The great waterfall was on one side of us, its roar almost deafening this close, filling up a large round pool or a small lake. On the less spray-filled side, the pool was surrounded by an amphitheater-type setup composed of a cascade of sweeping, black stone seats.
More seats were on the other side, where stands packed with the fey nobility hugged an open space between the cliffs, with a backdrop of the palace in the distance. I’d never seen it from the outside and wasn’t seeing much of it now, as it looked like a mountain had eaten it. A few towers stuck out here and there, surrounded by gardens, waterfalls, and pagodas, which I guessed were for lounging as a lot of people seemed to be doing that, with spyglasses trained this way.
I supposed they were the ones who hadn’t managed to secure a ticket to the stands.
Between them and the mountain we were on was a chasm, as Nimue’s kingdom seemed to be like Rome and built on hilltops. Only in her case, they were more like islands, sticking out of the water that shimmered all around. Including the waterfall’s pool, where a bunch of seahorses were bucking at the traces in stalls on this side.
But I could see no connection between the waterfall pool and the open water, which was down a pretty steep drop anyway. The pool only covered maybe an acre and a half, and no river ran out of it. So, what were we supposed to do? I wondered. Circle the pond like a bunch of rubber ducks in a bath?
I couldn’t figure it out, maybe because I could hardly think. Tens of thousands of people had gathered on the steps surrounding the pond that cascaded down toward the water, and those who hadn’t gotten a perch had crawled onto the surrounding rocks to wave pennants and scream. Since I didn’t know any fey languages and my translator wasn’t even attempting to sort out the babble, I had no idea what anyone was saying.
Then the musicians started up, and it didn’t matter anyway.
They drowned out what some official-looking type in a glittery robe was trying to announce in front of the stands of the beautiful people. He tried to wave the musicians off, or at least get them to shut up, because even enhanced speech wasn’t good enough to cut through the din. But it didn’t work, and he finally gave up, and some of the shell-shaped trumpets sounded again as they’d been doing about every five minutes, deep and resonate, and whipping up the crowd even more.
And finally, here they came, out of a tunnel in the rock under the falls, a troop of the wildest-looking people imaginable. The challengers, of which there seemed to be about twenty, had all dressed for the occasion, and to give them credit, they managed to stand out even in this crazy mix. I recognized ?subrand, still keeping to his brilliant white arrogance and ignoring the resounding boos that met his appearance, as it looked like Aeslinn’s son wasn’t any more popular than his old man.
But most of the competition wasn’t so austere. The jewels flashing under the brilliant sun, the crazy plumage decorating headdresses that would have made a Maya proud, and the crystals, sequins, pearls, and iridescent cloth had me squinting my eyes as the panoply passed below. It reminded me of the opening of the Miss Universe pageant, but if the various completely over-the-top outfits had any symbolism, I didn’t know enough about Faerie to recognize it.
Pritkin yelled something I couldn’t make out, snapping my attention back to him.
“What?” I looked at him.
“I’m going to join the race! I’ll steal down in disguise, then throw it off just before the start!” He nodded at a black seahorse without any other color on the extreme right-hand side of the pool, under a pennant of bright green with a stylized sun in the middle that was rapidly getting drenched.
Our colors, I guessed.
“Okay, let’s go,” I said, swallowing the last of my drink.
“No! You stay here!”
He started to pull away, but I held him back. “What are you talking about?”
“You don’t know how to ride!”
“I’ll learn!”
“This is not the time—
“This is exactly the time! You said it yourself—they’re going to cheat. Bodil, definitely, and everybody else, probably. And cheating around here involves blood—”
“I’ll be all right, Cassie—”
“You’ll be dead!”
Pritkin snapped a silence shield around us because we were attracting a few glances, even though we couldn’t afford the power loss.
“We just went through this!” I said, not bothering to lower my voice, even when he winced. “What the hell?”
“It’s not what you think—”
“Then what is it?”
“I need someone to replace me if I fall,” he told me. “You have the right to contest for the throne—”
“What the—”
“—and you don’t have my handicap. You’ve no demon blood, and one of your parents was a senior god, just like Nimue—”
I stared at him. “Have you lost your mind ? I only told you that to keep you from leaving!”
“I know, but it doesn’t make it wrong. And you saw what Faerie showed us. If we don’t get this army, Zeus will. He already has Feltin and who knows how many others—”
“Then we’ll take them down together!”
He shook his head. “I don’t intend to die today, Cassie, but if I do—”
“Shut up!”
“ If I do , you still have a claim. A blood right to the throne, and you’ve been here since the beginning. You don’t even have to challenge; you’re already part of my team, so mine covers you.”
I stared at him mutely for a second, and then the words bubbling up in my throat spilled out of my lips. “I can’t. I can’t. Not just stand here, and you don’t even have your magic, and those bastards —”
“Then you’re making the same mistake I did when under Barne-Mora,” he said quietly. “I didn’t want to risk you, to the point that I was willing to quit and walk away. I was wrong then, and you’re wrong now. Are we partners, or will our personal desires keep getting in each other’s way?”
“ Are we partners?” Because lately, it hadn’t felt like it.
“We always have been.”
I looked up at him miserably, knowing he was right. It made me want to vomit.
“I will be back,” he said and kissed me hard and fast.
And then he was gone.