21
Keltania
Everything is hazy and muddled. It’s not clear where I am because I have the worst headache of my life. The ground spins and dips, and I swallow back the bile creeping up my throat.
“You okay?”
As soon as the room stops churning, Valen comes into view. He’s chained to the wall across from me. Next to him, a few feet away, are Gensted and Wren. To their left, is Daroose. He’s wide awake and tapping his foot in a fit of what can only be described as utter boredom. Thank the Goddess. We all appear to be in one piece. More or less.
Ask me again later. I tug on my restraints. They’re solid and definitely not going to break with brute force.
“This is becoming an annoying trend.” Daroose sighs. “See if I ever travel with you two again…”
“Anyone know what just happened?” Gensted shifts to get a better view of the room. His lip is bleeding, and there’s a bruise blooming beneath his right eye.
Daroose lets out a whistle. “What happened to you?”
Gensted grins. “Wren attacked me.”
Valen glances at me, then quickly looks away. There’s a whisper of guilt humming through the link. “I’m sure it was just that weird fog.”
Wren shifts uncomfortably as her cheeks flush.
“I certainly hope she meant it.” He smiles at her.
She, in turn, groans. “Ugh…”
“Good. You’re awake.” A large, green-haired Fae warrior steps into the torchlight. His leathers are clean, and the sword on his hip glints like it’s never seen combat. Behind him, several others stand, their weapons drawn. “Most living things exposed to the mist tear themselves—or each other—apart.”
“Aren’t we lucky,” I mumble. Though I don’t feel lucky.
“You only survived because you had help.” He comes to stand in front of us. Motioning for one of the others to come forward, he says, “My name is Flux. I’m going to bring you to Suveo now.”
Our chains are unfastened from the wall—but not removed. They gather us up and march us into the bright sunshine. Night was just starting to fall when the fog rolled in.
“How long have we been here?”
“The cador mist knocked you out. You’ve been here about twelve hours now. Some don’t wake up at all.”
When my eyes adjust to the brightness, we’ve stepped into another world. Blooming vegetation and hundreds of crudely constructed buildings litter a massive clearing. To the west, there’s a large mountain range that serves as a barrier to the elements. To the east, a looming section of forest. “You’re Summer Fae, aren’t you?”
“And you’re not—which means you’re trespassing,” Flux says. He keeps his eyes on the path in front of him, but the other guards continue looking back.
“You seem to have done well for yourselves,” Valen says. Either he doesn’t pick up on Flux’s irritation, or, more likely, he doesn’t care. “All things considered.”
Flux doesn’t answer. Instead, he steers us toward the tallest building, a brick construction with tall doors and roughly carved stone flowers. “Inside.”
“I’m not getting a welcoming vibe here, but I don’t feel we’re in danger,” Valen’s voice pings inside my head.
The chains don’t concern you?
“I mean, they’re not as fun as ropes…”
The humor is forced, and I can’t bring myself to respond.
We climb a rough set of spiral stairs that empty out into a cavernous room that doesn’t look like it belongs. The walls are gold and glint in the sunshine filtering through a massive window that goes from floor to ceiling. The furniture is opulent—gold and yellow and different shades of purple—and looks untouched by the rot and decay outside these walls. And, on the floor, a lush green carpet cushions our every step.
At the front of the room, a hulking Fae with spiky, bright-blue hair and razor-sharp features sits on a throne of foliage and stone. His gaze is cold and wary, and it zeros in on Valen. “Why are you here?”
“My name is Valen, and I’m the monarch of the Winter Lands.” He stands a bit straighter. “This is Gensted of the Autum Court, Wren of the Spring Court, and my advisor, Keltania.”
“And I’m Daroose,” the kelpie says, glaring at Valen. “The most important one of the bunch.”
Valen rolls his eyes. “We’ve come with an offer of alliance.”
The blue-haired Fae throws his head back and laughs.
“As well as a warning,” I add.
The Summer monarch loses his grin. He stands and crosses to where I am, leaning close. “Is that a threat, human? Do you intend to harm my beloved people?”
“It’s apparent that you care deeply for your people,” Gensted says with a growl. He spreads his arms as far as the chains allow. “They might be starving and cold, but you’re taking such excellent care of their leader .”
The Summer Fae doesn’t seem to care about being shamed, because he laughs. “You should be more concerned about yourself than the care of my people. Disrespect me again and you’ll be sorry.”
“He means no disrespect.” Valen glares at Gensted. “We have a common enemy—one that poses a great threat to the life you’ve built here.”
“The only threat I see to my home is you,” he says, taking a step back. Two guards come up on either side of us.
“I promise you, we’re not the threat you should be concerned with.” Valen stands a bit straighter. He gestures to Gensted and Wren. “We are here to request your aid. We—”
He laughs again, this time doubling over. “Our aid ? Where was the Winter Court when we needed aid after the war?”
“We’re not asking for free,” I say. We’re losing him, and if we don’t act now, we might not get another chance to plead our case.
“What could you possibly have to offer that would make me overlook your court’s past…transgressions?”
“Magic,” I say. “The Winter Fae can offer you magic.”
…
Suveo—the current ruler of the Summer Fae—is skeptical, but he hears us out. When Valen finished his pitch, I really thought we’d gotten through to him. He listened, smiled, and then when we were finished, he locked us back up.
“That didn’t go the way I’d hoped,” Valen’s voice whispers inside my head. He’s leaning against the far wall, next to Gensted. Wren is asleep with her head tilted toward him, her hair brushing the corner of his shoulder. He looks positively ecstatic, while Daroose is sullen, still complaining about the lack of food.
We still don’t know how it went. He might agree…
The guards brought salve for our wounds and some rags and water for us to clean up. We might be locked away, but they aren’t treating us as criminals. It gives me hope. Maybe it shouldn’t, considering Suveo’s attitude toward us, but it does.
Even if we didn’t convince the Summer Fae to help us, we still managed to gain Gensted and Wren. That puts us in a better position than when this all started.
The door creaks open, and Flux appears. “You. Human. Follow me.”
Valen jumps to his feet and steps in front of me. “I go where she goes.” Gensted joins him, glaring at the guard.
Flux snarls. “She’s coming with me—and you’re all staying here.” There’s no room for argument in his voice, and the last thing we need is to make a scene.
“It’s fine, Valen. I’ll be okay.”
“Yes, little Fae.” Daroose yawns. “She’s far more capable of taking care of herself than you are.”
Valen backs down and nods once. “If anything happens to her…” He stares at me. “If anything happens—”
I’ll be fine.
The warrior guides me from the room.
We take another set of steps, following a twisting hall that slopes gently downward. This section of the house isn’t as nice as the room we were in before, but it’s still not nearly as decrepit as everything outside.
After a few minutes, we arrive at a wooden door. Flux knocks once, then turns and leaves without a word.
“Enter,” a voice says from behind the door. I turn the knob and step through into the room beyond.
It’s a cavernous bedroom decorated with every kind of flower imaginable carved into colorful rock. Like the other room, the walls are golden, and sunlight streams through a massive window, creating a deceptively cheerful space. Suveo is leaning against the far wall with a drink in his hand.
“Lovely. They brought me the human first?” he says, the venom in his voice unmistakable. He jabs a finger at me. “Stay by the door. Don’t touch anything. I don’t want your filth all over the room.”
“You really know how to treat a guest,” I say.
“You’re not a guest. You are vermin. A pest that somehow managed to scurry into my home.”
There’s no point in arguing. “I assume there’s a reason I’m here?”
“Cutting right to business.” His lips twist into a scowl. “How typical of your kind.”
The showpiece of the room is a massive bed covered in plush bedding and an assortment of large pillows. I’m tempted to sit on it—just to see what he’ll do—but I refrain.
He walks to the middle of the room, looking me up and down. “Since you’re here, you might as well be useful. Tell me about the little Winter Lord.”
“His offer is real, if that’s what you’re asking. He’s an honorable Fae.”
Honorable…and pissed. Goddess. We said such horrible things to each other. There’s a rawness in the link, like a throbbing wound in need of healing. We’re going to have to talk about it soon or it will fester.
“I would be happy to answer any questions you might have about his offer,” I say.
“You’re permitted to speak for him? A human ?”
“I am.”
“I can’t trust any Fae who holds your kind in such high regard.”
I bite back an acidic retort and keep my expression neutral. “Don’t like humans? Fine. But the threat he told you about is very real. Aphelian is ruthless and power hungry. I have no doubt she’ll come for the other Fae when she’s finished with the Winter Lands. If you ally yourself with us, Valen will share his magic.”
Suveo retreats to a chair and settles in, then calmly picks at some lint on his tunic. “So, let me get this straight. You, a human , are here to warn me about Aphelian—another human . Do you think me a fool?”
“ Valen ,” I say tightly, “who is Fae—is here to warn you about a legitimate threat.”
“And he offers magic in exchange for my aid.”
“Correct.”
He folds his hands. “I assume this is a druid ritual? That’s why you’re here?”
“No. It’s an old Fae ritual. We have someone who served under Lord Delkin Frostreaver. She knows how to—”
“Frostreaver.” Suveo tilts his head. He leans forward, watching me with caution. “I’ve heard of him. He was extremely powerful in his day.”
“He still is—even without his magic.”
Suveo’s eyes widen slightly, but he quickly relaxes his expression and leans back in the chair. “He still lives?”
“He does. Valen is his son. A direct heir to the Winter crown.”
“So Servis’s line has been defeated, eh?” His tone is casual, but I don’t miss the undertone of satisfaction. “And how did you come to serve the son of Delkin Frostreaver?”
“Valen is my friend. I don’t serve him. I’m willingly helping the Fae.”
“So naive.” His smile is nothing short of predatory. “Fae can never be friends with humans. That would be the equal of a God befriending a slug. The likes of you will never belong with the Fae.”
My hackles rise. His words are meant to belittle me, to tear me down. That’s how I want to see them. As nothing more than empty chatter from an overblown ass.
The problem is, deep down, I believe he’s right.
But I won’t let my personal issues get in the way of our objective.
“You’re entitled to your opinions,” I say again. “But your opinions are getting old. If we aren’t going to discuss an arrangement between you and Valen, then this is a waste of my time.”
I turn toward the door.
“You will not leave until I say you can, human.”
Gotcha. I turn back around, resisting the urge to smile in victory.
His face has reddened, his eyebrows drawn downward. “I haven’t rejected the idea just yet… I’ll hear you out. I have nothing better to do at the moment, after all. Tell me about this…arrangement.”
…
Suveo and I talked for hours. Well, he talked and I was forced to listen. The love he has for his own voice rivals Valen’s love of wine. And then he did the same with Valen, Gensted, Daroose, and Wren—though not for nearly as long. When we’re finished, we’re escorted to the cave’s entrance, our chains finally removed, and asked to never return.
There’s nothing more we can do to sway Suveo. We head back to the Winter Lands.
“I really thought he’d agree.” Gensted bites into one of the last apples in our stash and leans his head back against the tree he’s settled under. We’re three days out from the Summer Court and have been making decent time, so we decide to stop for the night. “He seemed so reasonable .”
Valen chokes back a laugh. “He was a pompous asshole. He refused to touch the stone Zana gave me. He said he was uncomfortable with my choices—whatever that means—and kicked me out.”
“He was extremely rude, if you ask me.” Daroose leans against a large tree. “I politely asked if he’d let me take a small nibble from his finger—his pinkie finger. Who needs that anyway? He called me all sorts of dirty things and kicked me out!”
“It doesn’t matter what he was,” I say. “It’s over, and he’s obviously not interested in an alliance. We’ve warned him about the threat, and that’s the best we can do. We should focus on getting back to the estate. We’ve been gone a month already.”
Wren tucks her legs beneath her, nibbling on a piece of bread. It’s the last of the food she packed and must be stale by now, but she doesn’t complain. Goddess only knows what Suveo would say. “I know Servis technically betrayed Aphelian, but we would all have been much better off if he’d killed her when he stole the magic.”
I stop, a fig halfway to my mouth. “What?”
Daroose whistles and scooches far from the Spring Fae.
“Tania—”
“Well, think about it,” Wren says, completely oblivious. “The best thing Servis could have done for his people would have been to steal her power—and take her out.” She tosses the nose of the bread into the woods. It bounces off several trees before coming to a stop in a patch of clover. Almost immediately, a mangy-looking squirrel dashes up to grab it. “Not that what he did was right… I just mean, if he was going to steal from her, best to remove the possibility of revenge. We’re in this mess because he was so shortsighted. It was strategically a bad move.”
“Wow…” I’ve been lied to—used and abused just as much as the rest of them—but I seem to be the only one who hasn’t forgotten that Aphelian wasn’t solely to blame for all this. This is why they will never accept me. Because of Fae like this. “Don’t hold back on my account…”
Wren blushes, then smiles. She actually smiles . “I didn’t mean to offend you. I simply meant—”
“We’re in this mess—and by we I mean you —because Servis broke Aphelian. She wasn’t evil. He made her into what she is today. She gave everything she had to help the Fae , and it destroyed her.”
“Tania, calm down.” Valen’s voice is nothing more than a whisper beneath the simmering rage.
“She sacrificed her own people and their future. Does that sound like someone who deserves to die?”
Wren opens her mouth—then snaps it shut, eyes wide. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“If she’d never fallen in love with a Fae—if she’d never given him her heart and her trust—we’d all be better off.” I stand and glare at Valen. It’s not his fault, but I’m furious. At Wren. At Servis and Aphelian. At me…
There’s an uncomfortable level of similarity between her and me, and I hate myself for even thinking it. “I need some air. Don’t follow me.”