Chapter 13 #2
“Ooh, make the frosted periwinkle cupcakes!” Julian called out, turning from the table, where he’d filled a glass with a dark liquid. Apparently, he had a bit of a sweet tooth.
“I’m assuming you’re talking about the color and not the snails or the herb,” Lore chimed in.
Peregrin’s forehead wrinkled, and his hooves clopped on the stone floor as he led the way to the kitchen. “Why would I frost snails or plants?”
Julian patted Lore on the shoulder as the three of them passed us, saying to Peregrin, “To be fair, you’ve done weirder things.”
They disappeared into the tunnel that led to the kitchen. I startled when Gwen sat down on a chair. She’d silently joined us while I’d been distracted. “Did you tell her?”
“Not yet.” Soren shifted uncomfortably. “I was about to.”
He’d already told her? He’d probably told the others too.
I snapped. “Why does everyone know where my family is except me?” My voice cracked on the last word.
I drew a deep breath and blinked a few times, holding back sudden tears.
This whole day had been one reaction after another without a second to process anything, and now it all swept over me like a heavy, suffocating blanket.
I couldn’t breathe.
My vision flickered with little black spots around the edges.
“Brynn.” Soren’s voice brought me back into focus, though just slightly. He was close enough that I felt his breath on my cheek. “Come, sit. I promise to tell you everything I learned. I think you’ll be pleased.”
A warm pressure at my back encouraged me to walk toward the couch by the fire.
I sank onto it, numb.
I barely noticed Gwen’s voice in the background. “I’ll go get her some water.”
“Did you find them or not?” I whispered, staring at the rug through blurry eyes.
“Yes.”
My eyes flew to his.
As I blinked, a tear slipped out.
He tracked its progress down my face until I swiped at it. Swallowing visibly, he sat back. “I know where they’ll be tomorrow night. They’re part of a staff selected to serve at the Winter Solstice Ball hosted by a stonemason named Cosmarion Bristle—Cosmo for short.”
“Why do you say that like it’s bad news?”
He hesitated. “They’ll be difficult to get to.”
“How difficult?”
“Cosmo’s guest list is highly exclusive, invitation only.”
“But . . . we don’t need to wait until this ball, do we?”
When he didn’t answer right away, I straightened and tried to focus. “What’re you not telling me?”
“His home is invitation only all year round.”
“We can’t . . . sneak in?”
“We’ve dug unauthorized tunnels before, so it is doable,” he said, taking me seriously.
That helped me breathe a bit easier. “Though someone like Cosmo is likely able to afford quite a bit of stonework, like you see here in my burrow, which keeps intruders out.” He gestured to the floor and the walls that weren’t covered by bookshelves.
“The only way to know for sure—and to avoid getting caught—is to acquire a floor plan first.”
Sighing, he rubbed a frustrated hand over his face.
“That’s something we’ve never been able to obtain for Cosmo’s home.
” Bringing his gaze back to mine, he added, “More importantly, it would require at least a week of digging, maybe more, depending on the location. It’s highly unlikely they’d still be there by then. ”
My gaze fell to the pretty sandals still wrapped around my feet. I pulled them under me and curled into a ball on the couch, leaning against the soft orange cushions. “You’re saying it’s hopeless.” That numb feeling was spreading through my whole body.
“I didn’t say that.”
I thought back, trying to remember his exact words. “Yes you did. You said they’d be difficult to get to.”
“Yes, difficult. Not impossible. I have an idea.”
When he didn’t immediately offer it, I sighed, recognizing the trap. I didn’t have the energy to glare at him. In a flat tone, I said, “I suppose you want to make another deal.” Of course he’d take advantage of my vulnerable state. I should expect nothing less.
“Not tonight,” he said, surprising me. When I raised my brows, he shifted uncomfortably. “I’d like to think on the terms. And we can’t move forward until tomorrow, so there’s no need to rush.”
Ah, okay. That’s more like it. “But there is a way?”
“I believe so.”
I tried to take comfort in that.
Tomorrow. I might find them tomorrow.
At least now I knew generally where they were. And though I’d never admit it to Soren, I would absolutely bargain away the rest of my life if it meant I could save them.
I just had to wait one night.
Morning felt like years from now.
I hoped they were at least safe and warm.
Softly padding feet sounded, and Gwen appeared in front of me, holding out a glass of water. I accepted and drank the whole thing. She took it back without a word, leaving me and Soren alone again. I felt refreshed until guilt swamped me at the thought of my family.
“Do you think they’re getting food and water?” I asked Soren in a choked whisper.
He tried to say something, but it almost seemed like he couldn’t. Swallowing, he settled for a nod. “A good master would be sure to take care of his workers.”
Something about the indirectness made me think he couldn’t say yes, and tears blurred my vision. But he also hadn’t said no, so maybe there was a chance.
My heart squeezed in a painful mix of hope and distress, because if Dad, Rissa, and Olive were already struggling, what about Mom? She’d been here so much longer.
I opened my mouth to risk telling him, but instead, I said, “My mom really likes spaghetti.”
What?
Clearing my throat, I shook my head a bit and tried a second time to say, “My mom was taken too. Can we add her to the contract tomorrow?” But this time, I recognized the word vomit, even if I was too late to stop it. “I mean, she likes water too, but obviously, spaghetti tastes better.”
I flushed.
Covering my face, I wanted to disappear into the fluffy couch cushions. I sounded ridiculous. He must’ve thought I was an idiot.
“That’s not really a typical fae meal,” Soren finally said slowly. “But if you’re hungry, I could ask Peregrin if he knows how to make it . . .”
When I peeked through my fingers, his gaze was visibly concerned. “No,” I said on a sigh. “I’m good.”
How I’d forgotten about the magic for even a second, I didn’t know. But somehow, it hit harder this time. Part of me had held off asking Soren until now because he’d been my last hope. Now I’d officially run out of ways to find Mom.
I was too exhausted to sift through the words I could and couldn’t say or drop hints that he may or may not catch. I needed sleep.
“Do you have—” I stopped myself, searching for a more forceful way to say it, to stand up for myself, since no one else would. “If you want me to stay the night, I need a place to sleep.” There. That was something Rissa would say, and she usually got what she wanted.
“All my rooms are full,” Soren began, and my heart sank. “But I had Lore make up the daybed for you.”
Relief turned my bones into jelly. Honestly, I probably could’ve fallen asleep on the floor at this point.
“It’s on the second floor.” He pointed toward the high ceiling—no, to the balcony along one side of the library. It had a solid wood railing, and more bookshelves lined the wall behind it. Searching for the stairs, I instead found a ladder tucked away in an alcove by the front door.
I shivered. “Do you lock up at night?”
Following my gaze, Soren nodded. “We do.”
At first, I was comforted. Then my brain pointed out that while some fae might be locked out, other fae—like the one right beside me—would be locked in. There was no such thing as safe here.
I let my hair fall forward and covered my face with my hands so Soren wouldn’t see my silent tears. My shoulders shook a little as I tried and failed to hold them in.
The couch shifted under me as he stood. “You should get some rest. Follow me.”
Hands still over my face, I nodded, taking a few deep breaths. I started to say thank you, then caught myself. Instead, on an exhale, I said, “That’d be great.”
He led us toward the ladder, and I dried my face the best I could with my hands while his back was turned.
He didn’t try to make small talk.
I wasn’t usually one for it either, but exhaustion loosened my tongue. “What if Caius hadn’t brought me back?” The question beneath it was the one I really wanted to know: Would you have abandoned me for real?
Climbing the ladder, he disappeared onto the balcony, but his voice floated down to me. “Gwen followed you the whole time.”
My mouth fell open. “Oh.”
I should not have felt so grateful to hear that. I climbed the ladder after him.
Up here, the lights dimmed, casting shadows across the books. It smelled like dusty old pages with a faint hint of woodsmoke from the fireplace below.
He’d already strode partway down the narrow balcony.
I wanted to slow down and peek at the titles, but the daybed built into a cubby between the shelves ahead called my name. Thick blankets plus four fluffy pillows lay on it. My eyes fluttered as I pictured myself sinking into them. “Oh, thank you,” I whispered.
Then I slapped my hands over my mouth.
Eyes wide, I waited for Soren to react, but he didn’t.
That was close.
He stopped beside the daybed and tapped one finger on the thick wooden railing across from it, looking over the ledge at the library below instead of at me. “If you need anything in the kitchen, help yourself. You already know where the bathing room is. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Since I wasn’t supposed to thank him, I didn’t know what to say.
Turning, he continued on down the balcony, away from the ladder.
It looked like a dead end.
“Where are you going?”
He glanced back as he reached the last shelf and selected a book. When he pulled, it shifted forward, but instead of the book coming loose, the entire shelf from floor to ceiling swung out toward him on silent hinges, revealing a hidden doorway behind it. “My room.”
Stepping inside, he let the shelves glide back into place and disappeared.