Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Tru doesn’t return, and neither does Jai. Instead, a trio of fae healers come to fuss over me as I struggle to sit up in the bed.
“No, stay down,” one of them says, an old, stern-looking fae man in a brown toga, his pointy ears drooping through his silver hair. “We’ll be the judges of whether you are ready for any activity.”
“In my opinion, she should stay in bed for another day,” a fae woman says. She’s dressed in colorful skirts and shawls, sparkling stones hanging in a long necklace over her chest. “She’s too weak.”
“I believe she’s fine,” another woman says, this one clad in gray robes wound around her body like a mist. “Mark my words. The antidote worked a treat.”
I recognize their voices from the snippets of conversation I caught while in the grip of the strange, venom-induced delirium. It sounds like they enjoy bickering with one another, reinforcing my impression that the discussion I overheard hadn’t been a dream.
And Tru had been here when I woke up.
But Jai had not.
These are the facts. Even though Tru said that Jai had been by my side all night. He had no reason to lie, did he?
“Let me see now,” the gray-clad healer murmurs, gripping my face in a hand like an iron claw, turning it this way and that. “Her color is good…”
I bat at her hands and hiss.
She releases me and takes a startled step back. “Feeling better, are we? See? I told you so.” She seems to regain her courage and approaches again. “Let me see your tongue.”
So I stick it out at her, since it’s what she wants.
Unperturbed, she squints at it and pokes it with her forefinger.
It tastes vile, and I gag. I almost bite her finger off.
She snatches it away with a yelp. “Yes, so much better. Fine by me to let her go, if you ask me.”
“But did you check her eyes?” the healer in the toga asks. “Did you notice any black or yellow spots?”
I lift a forbidding hand when the man bends over me, inserting fire into my glare. If he dares…
“Right, she looks fine.” He sounds disappointed but moves away. “Call the servant to take her to her room. She has to be fitted for the ball anyway. And tell them to feed her.”
“She’s so scrawny I wonder if anything in the palace garderobe will fit her,” the woman in the multicolored shawls says mournfully. “Feeding her now won’t change that.”
“But it may prevent her from passing out during the ball. The fewer scandals we have during the ceremonial events, the better. You know they’ll blame us if that happens.”
“Always blaming us,” the multicolored-clad healer mutters, “true, true. Can’t let it come to that. What are you called, girl?”
Rae , I mouth the name.
The woman frowns. “Can’t she speak? Are you mute, human?”
I glare at her and mouth, Yes.
“That’s not a side-effect of the venom, is it?” The man blanches. “They can’t pin this on us, can they?”
“About as much as they can pin on us her feral nature,” the gray-clad healer says drily. “I’m pretty sure venom didn’t cause her muteness. That must be a permanent condition, right, human girl?”
I nod to get them off my back. Sure, fae healers, that’s right. Now let me go.
They turn the other way, continuing their conversation in vehement whispers. It looks like I’ve already been dismissed.
Perfect.
Finally allowed to get up, I realize I need to take my time. I fight dizziness just by sitting and swinging my legs off the narrow cot.
While waiting for my head to stop spinning, I take in my surroundings.
The heavy drapes at the tall, narrow window have been pulled aside, letting daylight spill through. I study the domed roof of the chamber and the line of cots along the walls, all of them empty. The walls are painted a light yellow, likely to promote recovery from illness or injury. The door through which the healers are now leaving is blue like the sky on a clear day.
Then there’s me. When I look down at myself, I find I’ve been stripped of my stolen, shredded, and filthy gown and clad in a yellow, silken robe that closes at the front, tied at the waist with a cloth belt of the same color. I’m still filthy, and when I peel down the bandage a little, I see that my bitten leg bears twin red marks where the fangs got me, a darkening bruise around them.
It reminds me of the marks on Jai’s neck.
My legs look otherwise all right. I peer down at them, checking for any change or other damage. I wiggle my toes. Rotate my ankles. Bend my knees.
Nothing.
Nothing to indicate that my legs can fuse again anytime soon and form a tail.
I chew on my lower lip, turning this little fact over in my mind. Was I lied to? Sacrificed for the cause? Is the change permanent?
I admit I didn’t pay close attention to the details of the deal. I don’t have anything to lose. Except, the success of this mission hinges on the spell lifting. Otherwise, I can’t get to the king.
Nothing for it now, though , I tell myself as I carefully stand up. My knees are shaking. I force them to straighten and lock. I’m fine, good to go. I’ve been delayed enough and I need to get?—
A sound from behind me, a scraping on the flagstones paving the room, has me jerking around. With a gasp caught in my throat, I pat my skirt—which I’m not wearing—for a dagger that isn’t there.
The quick movement was a bad idea. The world spins faster and faster, and I stumble backward, bile rising in my throat. A sharp breath leaves my lungs as I sink back down on the cot, clawing at the bed covers, darkness crowding my vision.
“My lady?” The voice is soft and feminine, and as the darkness dissipates, I see her standing just inside the door.
It’s a young woman in a plain blue dress, her dark hair pulled back in a forbidding bun. Yet her face is young and sweet, and her large, dark eyes are wide.
I’m staring. Who in the hells is she?
“I’m sorry, did I startle you? I’m Daria. I’ve brought you some food.” She approaches and places the tray on the cot beside me. “When you’re done, I’ll take you to your room for a bath, and I’ll find clothes for your stay here.”
I glance at the tray and the array of bowls filled with cooked meat and sauces. The aromas are wonderful, but my stomach roils. I don’t know if I’m ready to eat just now.
Daria , I form the name with my lips.
“I’ve been assigned to you for your stay. It’s exciting, isn’t it?”
I gesture. What is?
Her smile dims a little. “Oh, you can’t speak? That’s…” She rallies her enthusiasm back. “The festival is exciting, of course. Being so close to the Pillar, in the middle of the Central Sea, at the king’s sacred palace! And being present for these balls and auditions with the king. The girls in my village are green with envy that I got this position.”
Your village? Where?
I see her struggling to read my lips and my frustration mounts. To be honest, I haven’t met many mute people in my life—I can only think of the miller’s daughter in my town—and I had never realized how hard communicating could be. So much respect for them now.
“I come from Tenea,” she says, color rising to her cheeks. “You wouldn’t know the place; it’s no more than a hamlet off the Tagra Forest.”
But I know the place. I can picture it perfectly in my mind, the low, beige-washed houses surrounded by rolling green fields and canals, the squire’s manor at its center, marked by its great arched doors.
More dizziness hits me as the images superimpose themselves over blue water and seagrass, fishtails, and grins full of danger.
“My lady,” she says, “you need to eat and get your strength back up. The trials aren’t over, and the festival can be dangerous, too.”
I frown at her, both for the honorific and the warning.
She walks to the open door, glances out, then returns, smiling again. “Stay close to Athdara, and you should be fine.”
My frown darkens. Why? Did he send her? Why would I be safe with him?
“Athdara joined the games for you.” Her eyes fill with stars, and she clasps her hands together against her bosom. “It was so romantic. No member of the royal court has ever joined the games. You have to be human to join, of course, and most members are fae, but still, you cannot imagine the uproar!”
Member of the royal court? I mouth the question.
“Oh, yes. The king adopted him early on and gave him a new name, a new role. Such a kind gesture, the king adopting a poor human boy from the countryside. Of course, it has to do with his shadow powers, the king isn’t fooling anyone, yet he didn’t have to adopt him and give him a life of luxury. His majesty King Rouen the Magnificent has a heart made of pure gold.”
A human believer in the fae cause. She looks so sweet, and I don’t want to hate on her already, but I hope she won’t keep harping on how kind the fae king is, or I’ll be sick.
Having to dress up and simper to get close to him is already making me nauseous. He took everything from me. Nothing could endear him to me, no sweet story or gesture.
On that note… I eye the food on the tray and force myself to grab a fork and eat, nausea or not. The healers and Daria are right, I need to regain my strength, and quickly. I don’t have many reserves to draw on, and the unexpected crimp in my plans means I have to work twice as hard, push through the human weakness of this body, and get it done.
“Athdara joined the games for you.”
That’s surely a joke. A bad one.
And I’m not laughing.