Chapter 30
D espite the mischief gleaming in her eyes, Katiya is a respectful sleep partner, no trouble involved.
Certainly, none on her part. I manage to avoid all the painful thoughts by willing myself to take one deep breath after another until I drift off.
At some point, I get cold and inch my bedroll a little closer to hers.
Okay, a lot closer. Not that she minds. Actually, I’m pretty sure she is almost purring when I wake up to find her wide awake and staring at me, her face just a few inches away.
I scream and scramble backward, getting tangled in my bedroll and sending her into a fit of laughter. Despite that wake-up, I’m shockingly well-rested.
It is barely dawn when we exit the yurt, tend our needs, and grab a bowl of something a bit like porridge from the pot over the campfire.
“They’ve been working all night,” Katiya says before diving into her porridge with the speed of someone starved. I’ve taken barely two bites when she rises with a huff, dumps her bowl in the wash bin, and says, “Let’s get up there.”
At least that means Elias is okay. That’s something, even if I haven’t seen him.
I nearly choke trying to finish a few more bites of my food, but we’re off a moment later, heading back toward the staging room just inside the castle. I silently pray that Hallam will still be asleep and I’ll get to join Katiya for lack of anyone else to watch me, but no such luck.
“Ah, there she is.” Hallam beams, a steaming cup of something—maybe tea?
—in hand. The dainty, pale ceramic cup painted with purple flowers is at odds with the man himself, and I can’t help wondering if Vada picked it out for him or if possibly it just reminds him of her. “I am very eager for our chat today.”
Great, just great… I force a grin and hope it looks more convincing than it feels.
“I will leave her in your care,” Katiya tells him. The babysitting baton passed.
Hallam sets his cup aside. “Do remind them to send up anything they found during the night.”
She mumbles in assent, not even turning as she reaches the door and heads out into the ruined castle.
The click of the door seals my fate, and I try not to wince.
“Have a seat over here with me.” Hallam is entirely too perky for the early hour, but with nothing else to do and a desperate urge not to be rude, I do as he asks.
Turns out, spilling half my life story to Hallam isn’t nearly as bad as I feared.
He’s a captive and intrigued audience of one who asks mostly polite, although sometimes intrusive, questions.
Though I gather from the looks on his also-very-expressive face that there are many more he wants to ask but holds back.
A truly inquisitive mind. It’s something I can respect, even if my interests are generally less focused on the goings-on in people’s lives.
He leans back in his chair, his spindly fingertips steepled in front of him. “So, you are a healer in your world?”
Having spent the last hour or two with him, I’ve had more time to take in his appearance, the wrinkles around his eyes, the narrowness of his digits, and the oval-like shape of his torso.
His eyes, too, seem slightly multifaceted, glinting more in light than your average human or fae.
Many of the Unseelie share some traits with other non-fae creatures, and if I had to guess, I would say he has some beetle-like influence in his appearance.
“Not exactly,” I say. “More like I try to develop new ways to heal.”
“Much like my Vada.” His jovial smile widens at the mention of her. “Always going on with her plants and new concoctions and such.”
“I suppose,” I say with a smile of my own at the thought of her. “But she works practical healing too, whereas mine is really just study and testing. I don’t treat the injured.” I glance over at the doorway and strain my ears in the quiet for signs of approach. Nothing.
“You don’t need to worry,” he says. “We would know if something happened to them.”
“Would we?” I ask, though he seems certain of it.
“The biggest risk is a collapse, and that we would certainly hear. We’ve had a few, luckily not in areas where we’ve been actively working. I felt the vibration before we even heard the sounds.”
Almost like he felt them coming last night. And it makes me wonder... “You felt it with magic?”
He chuckles again, as if my question was funny.
“Not magic, just my natural abilities. Truly, I have very little magic. I can manage these lights.” He gestures to the orbs above that illuminate the space.
No natural fires are allowed in this room due to the risk of the objects within.
“Not much more. Nothing even close to my Vada.”
“The king says you are his best scholar, one of the most knowledgeable fae of the court.”
“Aye. An honor that he thinks so, and it is true, but knowledge does not require magic. It takes dedication, study, and a certain quizzical mind, to be sure, but it’s a power available to anyone.
And yes, it is a powerful thing, or it can be, when used well.
” He leans forward, as if sharing a secret.
“Don’t let anyone convince you that power comes only from physical or magical strength. ”
“I won’t,” I promise. In that belief, we are aligned.
“Good.” He taps his thigh then sits back. “You must have amassed quite a wealth of knowledge yourself. And you did it all to help your brother?”
The question is presented innocently enough, but the truth laced in it hits like a punch to the chest. I rock back in my seat. “I never said I did it for him.”
The look he gives me can only be described as the doting but patient look a grandfather might give when teaching a small child. “Our stories say much more than the simple words we use to tell them.”
I did do it for Matt. I hoped… I tried… I shake my head, sucking a deep breath.
If I could help others too, if I could make a career of it and support myself, then great.
But Hallam is right. I didn’t work myself to the bone all those years for that.
I did it for my brother. Even though, in the end, that path wasn’t successful.
“Ourselves are sometimes the hardest ones to admit truth to,” he says knowingly. “But he is the center of everything you’ve told me.”
“Because I came here for him, to help him,” I say, still stubbornly trying to deny what we both know.
“Yes.” His voice is patient, his face serene. “You have done much for him. But what do you do for yourself?”
“I…” But I can’t think of an answer, at least one that doesn’t sound hollow or petty. I binge-watch movies. I buy that expensive face scrub because I like the tingly feeling it gives to my skin. I… My mind blanks.
“It’s very noble, what you have done,” he says slowly, drawing me back to the moment. “But don’t give all of your life away for someone else. Make sure you live some of it too.”
But I have been living my own life. My lips are parted, ready to defend myself, but the words won’t come. Have I been living my own life? Really living it?
It feels like a dark pit has opened up within me, and I’m falling, falling…
“Think on what I’ve said.”
As if I could forget it.
“Our king shares a similar singular focus as you, rarely taking a moment for himself. Some might call it noble. But it… Well, it can be a sad way to live. I think perhaps you can help him.” He arcs a meaningful brow. “Or even help each other?”
“Maybe,” I admit, dropping my gaze from his inquisitive one to stare at nothing on the floor.
If Elias puts his worries aside and even just talks to me again.
I’ve yet to see him today at all. One guard stopped in a little bit ago with a report on progress and a few items that Hallam frowned at, but that’s been it.
“More tea?” Hallam asks.
“Please.” My cup, a matching one to his, has been empty for quite a while. A shame since it’s actually quite good. And besides, all the talking has left my tongue rather dry.
He grabs his cane and starts to rise.
“Oh, I can do it,” I say, jumping to my feet, ready to help. I should have suggested it sooner. After all, he’ll have to go outside for more hot water.
“Bah.” He waves me off. “It’s good for me to move often.”
“Do you mind if I look around while you make tea?” Now that I’ve stood, I’m loath to sit back down.
And I have to admit the room fascinates me.
It’s been hard to keep my attention from wandering while we’ve talked, drawn by the myriad of objects, books, and such spread out on tables and shelves, many bearing little labels just begging to be read.
Not that I likely can since they’re probably written in their Unseelie fae tongue but still.
“Of course, go ahead,” he says before making his way toward the door, empty pot in one hand, cane in the other.
I venture toward a far shelf holding gorgeous bowls and vases, some chipped and broken, but all wondrous in the brightly painted colors and shapes.
Up close, they almost seem to sparkle, and I wonder if they would in the sunlight.
Well, proper sunlight like we have back home, not the consistent haze that hangs over this land.
It's tempting to reach out and touch one, so much so that I find myself lifting my hand, my fingertips literally aching with the urge to run them along the smooth lines of the tall, swooping pitcher before me. But I don’t dare.
The last thing I want to do is have it crumble to bits at my touch, or worse, knock the whole display down like a set of dominoes.
As I stare at the intricate blue swirls, the pitcher starts to tremble. I suck in a breath and take a quick step back. It’s not just that piece, it’s the plate next to it. No, the whole shelf. “Shit, I didn’t even—”
Dawning horror opens up like a gaping pit in my center.
It wasn’t me. The ground beneath my boots vibrates. There’s a distant rumble. A deep, resonant boom.
Oh fuck.
The door crashes open to slam against a wall.
Hallam slumps wide-eyed against the threshold. “Run!” He gasps for breath. “Quickly! To me!”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I sprint toward the exit, dodging around a table and the edge of another set of shelves. Hallam ’s hand is outstretched, waving me onward. More distant rumbling and groaning echo from below.
Elias. My God, if he gets crushed—
I shut the thought down before I lose it.
It’s been seconds. I’m almost to Hallam. We’ll get out. We’ll find them.
The sounds of crashing and cracking wood and stone fill the air. I don’t even have the chance to scream before the floor falls out from under me.