Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
The telchin directs us to walk in a circle around the roof terrace, past the nightgold pillars and the whistling wind beyond, behind the rustling trees in their pots and the intoxicating night flowers.
We are the show now. Walking around in useless circles while the important people talk and chant.
By the time the speeches and the rites end, the sky has darkened to black. We, the humans, have gathered on the land side of the terrace, the fae taking up most of the roof on the Pillar side.
Various officials have talked at length, interspersed with music interludes played by a quartet with flutes and lyres. I can feel my eyes glazing over. The only sharp sensation and point of contact is Jai’s hand around mine, squeezing from time to time, and then the darakin shifting on my sore shoulder.
I should tell Jai to take Remi. Or… somehow tell Remi to fly, like Jai told me to do. No voice required, he’d said. Then, what? Thought?
Improbable.
Absurd.
I’m no dragon speaker. I don’t have that power.
Lights flare around the roof, strung around and between the black pillars. The music starts again, drums beating an inviting rhythm. Fae couples form in the middle of the terrace. They have removed their echoing hats and masks, and their colorful swirling gowns are a dizzying riot of rainbows.
Even I, despite my constant and all-consuming rage against the fae, have to admit it’s pleasing to the eye, mesmerizing, and kind of breathtaking.
The ball is about to begin.
A night where the differences disappear, where fae and humans, nobles and peasants dance together for the glory of the Pillar. For the change of the seasons leading from the longest night to the longest day, in the gardens of the Sacred Palace, above the sea.
How many humans have witnessed this spectacle?
Only those abducted and brought to the palace every year, those surviving the first trial. Not even human servants are allowed up here for the ball.
Humans abducted by the man standing by my side.
“He follows the king’s orders.” Neere had said that.
But it doesn’t absolve him, and my heart aches, torn.
As the dancing starts in earnest, I look around for Amaryll but can’t spot her anywhere.
I see Arkin dancing with a fae lady who most definitely isn’t Neere, and I wonder about their relationship, if any. They looked cozy enough where they sat together on the barge, playing games, but now? Not feeling the love.
“May I have this dance?” Jai says, the words taking a long moment to sink in. As I stare at him, he adds, “It could be our last one.”
He says it as if we ever had a first one.
I frown at him. My legs hurt, though he doesn’t know that. And with Remi as an oversized brooch on my shoulder? Doubtful.
“Tell Remi to go,” he says, following my gaze to the darakin. “You can do it.”
Easy to say. I try shrugging the creature off, but those wicked claws dig deeper.
Just go, Remi! Dammit, just… go.
“ Since you ask so nicely ,” a light male voice whispers, sounding amused and mocking, but when I turn around to locate the speaker, I see nobody except for Jai. “ Stop moving if you want me to launch off. ”
What…? Oh, my gods. I open my mouth, though I wouldn’t know what to say even if I could, as the darakin spreads and flaps his wings.
Some of the guests scream—you’d have thought they’d be used to the idea of a darakin among them by now, but it seems a few fae hadn’t realized Remi wasn’t just a theater prop?—as he takes flight.
“I knew you could do it,” Jai rumbles softly, and a smile tugs at my mouth.
I tip my head back to watch Remi soar over the gathering, the underside of his body and wings gleaming silver, reflecting the lights and fires.
Remi talked to me. Inside my head. I have no magic, so does that mean he does? Is that enough?
“Is everything okay?” Jai is watching me, eyes narrowed. Then his gaze clears. “Did Remi talk to you?”
I give a slow nod.
“Excellent. He has been talking my ear off for days.” Jai ignores my shocked look, instead tugging me closer to him, mouth tilting in a devastating grin. “Now it’s just the two of us.”
And about two hundred fae and humans, but who’s counting?
“You will be fine,” he whispers. “I’ll lead.”
That wasn’t exactly my only worry.
He sweeps me into the throng of fae dancers without hesitation, then pulls me against him, placing one hand on my waist, gripping my hand with the other. He’s still grinning, a little crooked, that faint dimple showing, and damn, it’s wistful and sweet and so sexy I can’t tear my gaze away.
As he leads me into the turn, he says, “I thought to shut reality out tonight. To dance with the most beautiful girl in the palace. To forget myself. Lose myself in you.”
His words echo my earlier thoughts. Though, the part about him finding me beautiful makes my toes curl inside my shoes.
And he’s so handsome I could lose myself, too, but the pain in my feet, which has been progressively getting worse throughout the three days in the palace, suddenly turns excruciating. It’s as if dancing makes it worse, and a breathless gasp leaves my lips.
I wince as he pulls me into a turn and stumble, then dig my heels in.
He slows down. “You don’t want to dance anymore? Let’s stop. I hate this music.”
Liar , I think, but another smile teases at my mouth. I step to the side as a couple whirls by and grimace, my legs almost going out from under me. I hope he doesn’t notice.
But he produces a low growl, not unlike Remi’s, as he pulls me out of the way of another dancing couple.
His hands grip my arms, and his dark brows bunch together as he gazes down at me. “You’re limping. What happened?”
I shake my head. So much for him not noticing.
“Did someone hurt you?” he snarls. “Who do I have to punch? Was it Neere?”
That same warmth that filled me when he stood up for me against Neere and her friends returns. The thought of him punching her makes my mouth twitch.
That dangerous warmth seeps into me, making me aware of all that cold in me, the cold I need to make it through these trials and do what I must.
I can’t take such comfort from him; I can’t rely on him. Will he even enter the second trial? Why would he? This is indeed our last evening together.
“There is a bench.” He tugs on my hands, scattering my thoughts. “Let’s go sit. Who cares about dancing anyway?”
I don’t want to sit with him. I can’t be around him. It’s dangerous for my soul, tugging back and forth between wanting him and hating him, trying to understand him, and worrying about him.
I pull my hand away, and after a long moment, he releases me.
Stealing one last glance at that impossibly handsome face, the dark eyes, the dark designs on his cheekbones, I turn to go.
“Rae. Wait.” He follows me through the dance floor, through the crowd. “Just wait.”
But I don’t stop, don’t slow down. Not even when the darakin flows low over me, letting out keening cries. Not when the fae curse me when I jostle them.
My feet feel as if they are on fire. As if I’m walking on crushed glass. As if sharp blades are slicing into them. Limping, I keep moving, refusing to let the pain hold me up. It’s as if something is pulling on the spell, and instead of releasing it, it wraps its net more tightly around me.
Still, I need to get away from this travesty of a festivity—and Jai.
The grand staircase leading down is within reach, I’m almost there, but my legs falter. I make it to the first step and grip the banister as my knees buckle. I stop, panting, my eyes blurring.
Damn.
“Rae, by the Eosphor, I swear… Fuck .” He’s right behind me, and now he goes down three steps, so we are roughly eye-to-eye. “Let me help. Don’t run away.”
Despair bleeds into anger. I gesture at him, not knowing what he can understand from my disjointed, frantic signs, and I have to hope he doesn’t understand anything, because his loyalties aren’t with me.
I have to win, I have to make this work, and I don’t know how! Everything I thought I knew is wrong, and I have no magic, and?—
He catches my hands. “Rae, do you believe in fated mates?”
I yank my hands away and shake my head. The fae are said to have fated bond mates, or so I’ve heard, but as for humans, even humans who have gone through death and returned… I don’t know. Why would he ask me that now? And why does the expression on his face, that mixture of grim determination and longing, remind me so much of my lost love?
“Come to my room,” he says.
What? I shake my head emphatically. No, bad idea, the worst idea, that’s the opposite of what I need ? —
“Now.”
But—
“I just saw the king’s page. He’s looking for you. Come with me.”
This time, I don’t object to rushing away from here. I also don’t object when he sweeps me up into his arms, sighing in relief as my weight is lifted off the excruciating pain in my feet.
Accept help where you find it , I tell myself. That doesn’t mean you trust him or feel anything for him.
It doesn’t mean anything at all.