Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Enjoy the celebrations.”
His words ring in my ears as I make my way back inside. I don’t even try to shoo Arkin away when he falls into step behind me once more.
My head throbs as I try to make sense of the sudden shift in Jai’s expression, the cruelty flashing in his eyes. His sudden departure. His mercurial moods are hard to follow.
He had somehow figured out I’m not your average contestant, that I’m here to kill the king. How did I give myself away? I suppose my story didn’t convince him.
“You should get ready for the banquet,” Arkin says.
Slowing down, I glance around, trying to figure out where I am. I’m not even sure which way we followed earlier. The Sea Palace is a maze.
Then his words filter through my buzzing head, and I stop in my tracks. I turn around to face him. Banquet?
“The first ceremonial banquet with the winners of the first trial. Didn’t anyone give you a rundown of the program?” He tsks, his gaze flicking down. “Or are you going barefoot?”
Damn. I glance down at my feet, wiggle my bare toes, then look back up as a group of fae men and women pass by, whispering and laughing. Will the king be there?
One of the fae ladies is batting her lashes at Arkin, and he grins at her. He isn’t paying attention to the conversation we’re having.
Then again, it’s not a conversation but rather a one-sided monologue with glares and eye-rolls as the only contribution from my side.
Let him be distracted. The peacock-hued lady sidles toward us, not sparing a single glance for me, her green-and-turquoise skirts swishing on the floor, her dark hair piled up on her hair and secured with lapis lazuli pins. Her fan is spread to hide her smile, decorated with an image of the Pillar with draks in the background.
Nice fan.
At least Arkin has good taste—in decorated fans. Not sure about his taste in women. And what about Neere?
Why should it matter to me?
While he’s distracted, I skulk away, my feet noiseless on the carpets and perfectly fitted marble slabs.
As soon as I’m out of his line of sight, I start to run. I cross two grand halls along a long, bare gallery, much to the astonishment of the gathered fae. Glancing over my shoulder, I’m certain I’ll see Arking running after me.
But he’s not. I’ve lost him.
Stopping for a breath, I look around. The Royal Apartments are up, so I need to find the staircase leading there.
I take off again, wondering if I’m crazy thinking I will find the way there, that despite a spell crushing my magic so thoroughly, I will be able to get close enough to the king to stab him.
But then I see it. I skid to a stop, hardly able to believe my eyes.
It’s a spiral staircase made of white marble, the banister wrought of entwined black and gold bands, depicting draks chasing one another. The banister is smooth under my palm when I touch it, as are the steps under my feet. I have to gather up my dress a few inches so as not to trip over the hem.
The walls around the staircase are adorned with carvings of more dragons, and trees on whose branches birds, moths, and snakes twine. Images from the fae homeland? Sacred images? Images of the wilderness the fae love so much?
Further up, at the end of the staircase, stand two winged statues made of black ebony and gold, humanoid but at the same time alien, their large eyes crafted of some blue stone and their chests studded with gems. They represent Eosphors, revered by the fae, much like the dragons.
But these statues are a positive sign. I have a good feeling about this. I’m heading in the right direction. Up here must be the king’s apartments.
The feeling intensifies when I step on lush carpets, so thick my feet sink into them. The space expands around me, with tall ceilings and chandeliers dripping gold and crystals, leading to an arched gateway.
High windows open on either side, gold-and-black tapestries hanging between them, bearing various coats of arms. Gold-and-ebony chairs rest against the walls.
Yes, this place has a royal feel to it, much more luxurious than the lower floors with their alcoves and parlors. This is like a golden cage. Even the windows have golden bars blocking them, and the ceiling is covered in a golden filigree net.
Yet the stairs were unguarded, so where are?—?
“Where do you think you’re going? Stop right there.” A spear bars my way, seemingly coming out of nowhere, followed by a bulky fae male with a crooked nose that’s obviously been broken too many times. “How did you get in here? Why didn’t the spellwork stop you?”
Spellwork? There were enchantments to stop intruders? I had no idea.
Good question.
Another appears on my other side. “Well, well…” He bares those sharp fae teeth at me. One of his incisors is missing. “Look what the draks dragged in…”
Royal guards. Their uniforms are… over the top, that’s for sure, their helmets tall and sitting like urns on top of their heads, draped with golden rope and medallions. Their epaulets are stiff and dripping tassels, while their jackets and pants are embroidered with bold red, yellow, and blue on black with the symbols of the fae empire—dragons, serpents, trees, and, of course, the Pillar.
Even more impressive, they are wearing wings on their backs, made of wood and metal and adorned with silk feathers.
I’m definitely in the right place. Not only because there is apparently an enchantment on the stairs, but also because the wings indicate they are wearing the ceremonial uniform of the king’s personal guard.
“Won’t you claim you got lost on your way to the privy, little bird?” The crooked-nosed guard leers at me. “Make up some pretty lie to save your hide?”
“Won’t talk? Won’t lie?” the missing-tooth guard suggests. “Won’t spin a tale for us? Explain what sort of magic you wield?”
I freeze. Wait… Is my magic coming back? Is that why I walked through the enchantment? Reaching inside me for my power, though, I find emptiness.
“Speak,” the crooked-nosed guard snarls, crowding me until I stumble back. “Answer me!”
“She’s mute,” a bass voice rumbles from behind me, and I spin around to find the quick-tempered dragon summoner standing there.
“My lord Athdara.” The guards start in surprise, then bow from the shoulders, a tight, military bow. “You have returned. Do you require an audience with His Majesty?”
Jai is standing there, hands fisted at his sides, his jaw tense. His shapely mouth is tipped into a faint sneer, and his dark eyes are so cold that a shiver goes through me. “No need for another audience.”
He doesn’t explain his presence. Did he follow me here?
“What should we do with her?” the guard with the missing tooth asks.
“Why should I give a damn?” Now Jai looks bored, eyes hooded. “Throw her over the parapet, for all I care.”
The guards exchange glances just as my breath goes out in a rush. “My lord, you?—”
“Or throw the khora back into her room and lock her up.” A slight shrug of those broad shoulders. “It’s up to you, as I don’t give a damn either way. I’m here looking for that idiot, Arkin.”
I stare hard. I thought Arkin was his friend, I thought… I thought Jai didn’t hate me. Why else would he have saved me more than once during the trial? I’m so confused by his hot-and-cold act. More like warm and then glacial.
This isn’t the first time he’s switched from nice to nasty, I think, as the guards flank me. But some people are like that, turning nasty when they don’t get what they want, and what he wanted…
“Have it your way, little human.”
What did he want with me out there, on the terrace? He had turned cold in a heartbeat after telling me not to go after the king. Was that what made him so angry with me?
“We will remove her from your sight, Commander,” the crooked-nose guard says, grabbing my arm. “My apologies.”
What’s wrong with you? I mouth the words at Jai as the guards haul me away, but his smirk is just a shape. No warmth reaches his dark eyes.
The guards manhandle me down the stairs, their fake wings creaking with every step.
“We’d throw you into the sea as Lord Athdara suggested,” the crooked-nose guard says, yanking on my arm so hard I almost fall, “but the number of the contestants is important, unfortunately. The telchin records the winners of each trial, and if one is missing, he’s likely to have a hissy fit. Something about fate and destiny and events foretold before any of us were born, if I recall his words from last year.”
“The time one of them got drunk and fell over the ledge into the ocean before the opening of the games?” The other guard snorts. “Yeah, we had to go and fish him out because the telchin threatened to set the palace on fire. The human had only one arm left by the time we got to him.”
My blood chills, then heats up with anger. How heartless can they be?
“You haven’t explained how you found the staircase to the royal apartments or how you got inside,” the first guard says. “The enchantment hides it. Maybe we should have the spellwork redone.”
Maybe they really should, though finding the entrance wasn’t my doing. No magic, remember? Still no magic.
It’s as if the entrance to the royal apartments revealed itself to me, let me through.
The fae nobles point and laugh as the two guards escort me through the halls. What are they all waiting for, aimlessly standing about and drinking? Shouldn’t they be getting ready for the banquet?
Or maybe they are ready, have been for hours now, killing time and forging alliances and dalliances. I sometimes forget that the nobles don’t work, everything served to them on silver platters. Their only real job is, in fact, to flaunt their riches and seek beneficial marriages to augment said riches.
The one out of place here, the one with a different origin and a different purpose, is me.
Ow. I suck in a breath as my hair is pulled back so hard my cheeks hurt. Ow…
Daria hasn’t said a word to me since the guards escorted me back to my room. She gave me a hurt look and immediately got to torturing me.
Her excuse is getting me ready for the banquet. My hair has to be well brushed and done in one of those insanely tall hairdos the fae ladies favor. My skin has to be rubbed with oils and buffed to a shine. My eyelids need to be daubed with black and my lips with red.
I suffer through it all because I probably deserve it. That seed of guilt that stirred when she first told me how she’ll be punished if anything were to happen to me, well… it’s growing.
Then again, maybe that’s how she always brushes ladies’ hair. Who knows?
On another note, I’m not barefoot anymore. Various pairs of shoes have been brought over, and my feet do fit into some. An elaborate gown has been brought in, too, cleverly made so that the bust is adjustable as needed, which means that the seamstress won’t need to bother with me yet.
Then, there’s the jewelry.
What an elaborate theater play this is, each one of us dressed up and polished, ready to play a role. I won’t say these fae aren’t believers, that they aren’t here to celebrate a sacred rite, but it’s obvious that they are also here for their amusement. Dressing up the winners of every round, dining with them, observing them as one would observe the animals in a menagerie is part of the event’s diversions.
Observe the little humans as they try to imitate us, dress like us, and talk like us! Isn’t it hilarious!
Gritting my teeth, I let Daria manhandle me. She has called another maid whose name eludes me to help me get into this stiff, uncomfortable gown the color of an angry sea. Together, they wrestle me into it, pulling on the ribbons of the bodice until I can hardly draw breath. The underskirt is stiff and itchy, and the gown is too tight at my hips, a far cry from the comfortable, soft spidersilk dress I spent the afternoon in.
I hate this gown. And I hate the shoes they stuffed my feet into even more. They have a low heel and they are made of silk, stiff silk, squashing my toes together. But I have to attend this banquet to see how close I can get to the fae king. How well-guarded he is. How difficult it will be to touch him.
“She’s become unrecognizable,” the nameless maid says, clasping her hands over her stomach, looking mighty pleased with herself. “Like a highborn lady.”
Unrecognizable? Nobody knows me here, anyway.
“The human who voluntarily entered the games?” Daria clucks her tongue. “Everyone here knows who she is.”
Hells.
Daria is still fussing over my hair. My head already hurts, and it’s not helped by the long pins pushed into the sides, pinching my scalp. I bet they are sharp enough to be used as lethal weapons.
“The pearls,” the other maid says, and Daria grabs a small pearl garland and jams it onto my head, adding more pinching pins.
“Don’t be angry with her,” the maid says, wincing when Daria stabs another pin into my hair. She talks about me as if I’m not present. Then again, mute girl equals deaf girl, like I said before. That’s what everyone seems to think. “She didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Didn’t do anything wrong?” Daria finally bursts out. “She vanished from her room, went traipsing through the palace, barefoot! And ended up inside the royal apartments! She was escorted back by guards, and they weren’t happy, let me tell you. Didn’t do anything wrong? ”
The maid’s face pinches. “She only wanted to explore. Anyone would want to.”
“She’s a human, like us,” Daria snaps, her voice clipped. “And she’s a contestant. She should know better.”
“Daria—”
“My position could be jeopardized. My life could be forfeit.” Daria clasps a pendant around my neck, almost choking me. “Don’t give her excuses, Peri.”
Peri , then, that’s the other maid’s name, and I resist the urge to throw her a grateful nod. I’m sorry that Daria is upset, but my mission is more important than her fears.
In fact, all I should care about is how to kill the king.
“You’re here for him, aren’t you?”
I go very still. I’d forgotten Jai’s words on the terrace for a moment. Was that why he had followed me to the royal apartments, to make sure I didn’t harm the king? Why hasn’t he done anything to stop me? Why am I not already in the dungeons?
He probably threatened Arkin with a gruesome death if he lets me out of his sight again. The redhead has probably camped outside my door with blankets and a canteen, in case I try to slip past him.
A crazy idea hits me: What if I disguised myself as a maid? Then I’d walk around freely, able to find my way back into the royal apartments. Daria is about my height. If I can pinch her apron and bonnet, then I’m set. Once you put on a uniform, you blend in.
“Daria, listen!” Peri cocks her head to the side, her sable locks coming out of the bun at her nape. “Do you hear that?”
Somewhere inside the palace, a clock chimes.
“Oh gods, she will be late!” Daria all but shoves me out of the door. I barely have time to grab my dagger and hide it in my cleavage. “Come, my lady, I’ll show you the way.”
“I’ll escort her,” Tru says, stepping out from the shadows by my door. “I was sent by?—”
Athdara, I know. I nod at him. Let’s go.