Chapter 16 #2
Slade, Keres, Thorne, Daegel—they all shifted nervously now. Like they were ready to bolt. Or to fight.
Amanti wouldn’t meet my eyes, and I realized I was the only one of us who didn’t know what was happening and why. My own temper coursed through me, heating me until my furyfire rose to the surface. I shoved it down again.
Patamoi’s eyes flashed. “And will you?” he demanded.
Rydian’s gaze flicked toward me. His face stayed still, but I felt the tension radiate off him like a held breath.
Amanti stepped forward. “Patamoi—”
He silenced her with a gesture. “If you would have my rivers at your back, Summer’s child, then you must prove your allegiance belongs to no shadow.”
I could feel every eye in the chamber on me. My pulse thudded in my ears.
Rydian said quietly, “You don’t have to—”
“I won’t,” I interrupted, keeping my voice steady. “The Midnight Court has already proven to me that they will fight for me and for all fae. The river people have done nothing to prove their loyalty.”
“Loyalty is earned, girl—”
“This isn’t about loyalty. And I am not a girl.”
My magic flashed through me. Not flame. But something like a surge. It shoved at the edges of my skin, and I watched Patamoi blink in surprise. He’d felt it too.
A murmur rippled through the hall.
Patamoi’s expression didn’t change, but the currents around him slowed.
“You speak boldly,” he said. “Perhaps unwisely.”
“I’ve learned polite words don’t change minds,” I said. “You said I’m my father’s daughter. Then you already know I’m stubborn as hell.”
That earned a small sound—almost amusement—from the naiad.
Patamoi leaned back, his gaze moving over our group like a tide measuring the shore. Finally, he said, “You may think on who your true allies are. We will speak again when the moon rises.”
He turned to Amanti. “Your debt will be measured before the next tide.”
Amanti inclined her head. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”
Patamoi’s attention came back to me one last time. “You and your companions are invited to dine in my hall tonight.”
“That’s generous,” I said, my tone slightly sharper than I’d intended.
He smiled then, faint but not even remotely nice. “The river’s hospitality is both brutal and bountiful in the same turn.” He looked to someone over my shoulder. “Daughter, show them to their rooms.”
Cerynth approached wordlessly, this time on two legs and wearing a slip of a gown over her pale skin. Her eyes bore holes in me as she motioned for us to follow her out.
The meeting was over. Patamoi had already gone back to his conversation with his advisors and court. The guards moved in silent coordination, ushering us out of the chamber.
I shook the tension from my shoulders only once we were clear of the hall. None of the others said a word as we all fell into step behind Cerynth. She led us through a series of hallways, never speaking a word to us or any naiad she passed.
Amanti caught my arm as the others moved ahead. “You did well,” she said quietly. “Patamoi isn’t easily swayed. But you showed him strength. He respects that.”
“Respect doesn’t win wars.”
“No,” she agreed. “But it keeps you alive long enough to fight them.”
We exited the palace and headed across a narrow bridge. Beneath us, the currents of Osphanis glowed brighter as night began to settle above the river.
For a moment, I stopped and looked down. The naiad moved through the light like pieces of sea glass. Beautiful, distant, untouchable.
Rydian came up beside me. “You handled yourself well.”
“That sounded almost like approval.”
“It was.”
I studied his face, the half-light making it hard to tell what he was thinking. “You didn’t like being used as a bargaining chip.”
“I’ve been called worse things than shadow.”
“Mostly by me.”
He glanced over, eyes dark and unreadable. “I deserved it.”
Something in my chest tightened. I looked away first.
On the other side of the bridge, we entered another building. Or maybe it was another wing of the same palace. I couldn’t be sure with the way the walls rose up, disappearing into the opaque waters above.
Ahead, Cerynth and her guards turned down another hallway. As we followed, faint music drifted from below—notes that rose and fell like a tide itself. The notes were beautiful.
If I closed my eyes, I could almost forget why we were here. Or what waited out there. Almost.
We were shown to a suite of rooms that looked out over the glowing city. Beds carved from coral, linens soft as river silk. On the dresser, a basin of clear water that refilled itself each time we drew from it.
When the guards left, I sank onto the edge of the bed in the room I’d claimed and let out a slow breath. The events of the last few days pressed in all at once—the journey, the court, the way Patamoi’s eyes had cut straight through me.
Rydian stood in the doorway, arms folded, expression unreadable. The others were gone, probably prowling through their own rooms, hoping for a hot shower.
“He’s testing you,” he said.
“I gathered.”
“The dinner will be another test. He’ll wait to see if you’ll cast me aside.”
“Then he’ll know my answer won’t change.”
Rydian looked at me for a long moment. “Stubborn. As you said.”
“Don’t start liking that about me now.”
His eyes softened, and he started to speak, then seemed to think better of it. “Rest,” he said instead. “You’ll need to be sharp for tonight.”
“What happened when you were here last time?” I asked. “Why does he hate you so much?”
“You mean other than the fact that the Midnight fae fought against the naiad in the Great War?”
“Yes. Other than that.”
He sighed. “We came here once before. Years ago. Our mission was to request an alliance with a kingdom that would be willing to fight for our freedom until our own gates were unlocked and we were free to do the same.”
“And Patamoi refused?”
“We never made it that far. His soldiers came to greet us. Words were exchanged. One of our men was killed.”
“I’m sorry. That sounds awful.”
“Patamoi has carried a grudge against the Midnight fae since the Great War.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want you to lose hope in your plan.”
“Naivete and ignorance are not prerequisites for hope, Rydian.”
“No,” he said quietly, “You’re right. Now you know.”
I wasn’t sure that was true, but I left it alone. “What about his comments about Midnight allying with Summer? Was that true?”
“If it is, I didn’t know.”
“And Amanti’s life debt?” I asked.
“The story she told me is that Patamoi saved the life of one of the Aine at her behest. She owes him a debt.”
“Whose life?” I asked.
He shook his head. “That’s all I know.”
When he was gone, the silence stayed behind.
Outside the window, the city pulsed with light and movement, all of it framed by the dark weight of the river pressing down from above.
For the first time since we’d entered the tunnel that led Beneath, I let myself feel the ache under my ribs—the mix of exhaustion and hope and the thin, sharp edge of fear that never quite left.
Patamoi’s words echoed in my head. The river follows its own tide. Maybe so. But tides changed. And I intended to make this one turn.