Servant of Earth

Chapter 15

15

The succession of parties and dinners progressed, and the days blurred as I served Lara, assisted Alodie around Earth House, and visited Triana and Maude. My twenty-fifth birthday came and went, too, not that it mattered. What was the point of celebrating when the only two people who would have cared were both gone? My mother would never again make another tiny fruit loaf and sing off-key, and Anya would never again pretend to be annoyed that I had leapt a whole year ahead of her. Human time held little meaning in Mistei, anyway, so I shoved down any feelings about that milestone and dedicated myself to my eventual escape.

I spent every free moment exploring the catacombs, looking for a way out while listening for news about the trials. I was growing familiar with the places where the most elite faeries gathered to drink, trade barbs, and gamble on pointless bets. I’d even discovered a passageway beneath the throne room, an eerie, lightless corridor through which sound echoed from above. I could never stay there for long; every conversation I overheard was cruel, every joke vile, and sometimes the jokes were accompanied by screams. A trapdoor glowed from the roof above my head, and every time I walked beneath it, I had a horrible vision of it swinging open and revealing me to King Osric’s bloodthirsty gaze.

Since no one was inclined to share secrets in the throne room, I focused my attention elsewhere, lurking in the walls of nearby libraries and sitting rooms. In some places the passages between rooms were so cramped I had to inch along sideways, and I tried not to imagine what would happen if I got stuck.

My greatest breakthrough came one afternoon when my explorations coincided with a gathering of the Illusion and Light candidates in a richly appointed parlor. I could see them through a peephole—Garrick and Gytha from Light House shared a couch, while Karissa and Markas paced as if unable to stay still.

“Come on,” Gytha said. “Just a hint.” She looked sleekly elegant, with her brown hair twisted into a bun and a snowy satin gown draping in perfect folds to the floor.

Karissa laughed, a sound as pretty as wind chimes. Her purple velvet dress was bound by a sash of iridescent silk, and with her red hair cascading in wild curls to her waist, she was as vibrant as Gytha was austere. “Do you really think I would share anything? You finished the labyrinth, Gytha. I didn’t.” Her gaze slid to Garrick. “Of course, I’m not the only one who failed.”

“Oh, did I fail?” Garrick asked. “I seem to recall emerging with the highest number of tokens. How many did you collect, Karissa?”

Karissa’s cheeks reddened. “Even more reason not to share what I know with you.”

“We could share what we know about the Light trial in exchange,” Gytha said.

“You go first.”

“That’s hardly fair. Your trial’s next.”

“You’re all beating me in this competition, including Markas, and he’s an idiot. It’s more than fair.”

Markas scoffed but didn’t defend himself.

Gytha laughed. “Very well. You know Light values discipline. Our test will be one of control. The ability to master your body even while your mind is compromised.”

“Compromised how?”

Gytha shrugged. “That’s all I can say.” It was clearly not all she knew, given the smug look she exchanged with Garrick.

Karissa sighed dramatically. “That’s hardly enough information to go on.”

“Too bad,” Garrick said. “Your turn.”

Karissa smirked. “Oh, I think not. Come, Markas.” She started to walk away, but Garrick was on his feet before she’d gotten more than a few steps. His hand banded around her arm, jerking her to a stop.

“Don’t think you can renege on the deal,” Garrick said. His fingers dug into her flesh.

“It wasn’t good information,” Karissa said, jutting her chin defiantly even as tears sprang to her eyes from his manhandling.

Garrick shoved her into the wall and slammed his hands on either side of her head. “Try again.”

Gytha was watching with amusement, and even Markas looked on with an air of cruel satisfaction. Apparently house loyalty only went so far when there was humiliation or violence to be enjoyed.

Karissa’s shoulders slumped with defeat. “I was just joking,” she said sullenly.

Gytha arched one perfect brow. “Then you’re as funny as you are intelligent. Come on, Karissa. You know you don’t have the sophistication for these kinds of games.”

“You’re such a bitch, Gytha.”

“At least I’m a competent one.”

Garrick wrapped his fingers around Karissa’s throat, and she held her hands up in surrender. “Fine,” she said. “Illusion’s virtue is cunning, so expect it to test your wits.”

“How?” Garrick didn’t release her.

“Through a series of riddles and puzzles, all of which must be solved within an allotted time period.”

“What sort of puzzles?”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me how our minds will be compromised.”

Garrick’s fingers tightened around her throat. He squeezed, smiling as Karissa scrabbled at his fingers, then finally let go. “We’ll see you at the trial,” he said.

The two Light candidates left the room.

Karissa glared after them, then turned on Markas. “You should have defended me.”

He shrugged. “You should have known better than to challenge Garrick. It isn’t my fault you’re a fool.”

“I know how much you love licking Garrick’s boots, but I need to gain standing after the Void trial.”

“And you think going against him is the way to do it?” Markas shook his head. “No one goes against Garrick. He’s first in line for Light House.”

Karissa’s brow furrowed. “I thought Roland’s brother was heir. The youngest one—Lothar? I thought he gained the position after Roland killed Garrick’s father.”

Wait, Prince Roland had killed one of his own brothers? And Garrick was still loyal to him?

“Not anymore,” Markas said. “Garrick was boasting about it just last night. Said Prince Roland finally saw who was worthy. Garrick is in, Lothar is out.”

“That makes no sense. Lothar is centuries old; he’s respected at court. Garrick is…” She wrinkled her nose as if smelling something foul. “Garrick.”

Markas shrugged. “Maybe he’s lying. The point is, neither of us can afford to go against him. If you want to gain standing, you should try to do better in the trials.”

Karissa made an outraged noise and raised a hand to slap him. Markas caught her wrist, then laughed when she tried to scratch him with the other.

The two Illusion candidates kept bickering as they left the room. I, however, felt giddy with delight at my success. Princess Oriana had been making it clear I needed to produce more information about the upcoming trials or face consequences, and I’d finally come up with something.

I told Lara about the conversation that night as I did her hair.

She made a face in the mirror. “I’m terrible at riddles. Selwyn loves them, though. Maybe he has a book I can read.”

“Are Fae riddles difficult?”

“Difficult and dull. They’re usually terrible poems from centuries ago that reference inside jokes about dead kings.”

“That sounds awful.”

“It is. I’m actually less worried about the Light trial. I’m getting better at looking bored all the time, so if all I have to do is hide whatever I’m thinking or feeling, it shouldn’t be too bad.”

Lara was being more candid with me every day. It had started after the formal dinner—probably because I hadn’t told her mother about the crying—and the Void trial seemed to have strengthened that tentative bond between us.

“I wish I knew what they were going to do to your mind,” I said. “Knowing Light House, it’s probably going to hurt.” I shuddered at the memory of Prince Roland’s glee during the executions.

Lara grimaced. “I suppose you’re right. I’ve never understood why they’re so sadistic.”

I pinned a braid into place atop Lara’s head, then tucked a yellow blossom into it. “I heard they’re immune to magic.”

“Mostly, yes. They’re resistant to it, at least—Illusion might trick one for a few seconds, but not forever. Even Oriana’s vines would struggle to burrow into them. That’s why they provide the king with jailers and executioners, because they can’t be fooled or harmed by the other houses.”

I thought of the winged guards from that horrible, bloody dinner, the pure white of their eyes and the smooth skin where their mouths should have been.

“Not that anyone can kill with magic without the king’s permission,” Lara continued, “and it’s very draining to use the power like that, but it was more common before the rebellion. Light does fight with magic sometimes, but they prefer weapons. It’s so primitive.”

Like humans , I didn’t say. “How often do the Fae fight? Surely battles aren’t that common.”

“There are minor fights between houses fairly frequently, or even between families in the same house. The last time we had a real war, though, was the rebellion. Oriana says it was gruesome.” Lara surveyed my handiwork in the mirror. “You’re getting better at this. Find a necklace, and then I’m ready for dinner.”

I hunted through her jewelry box. “Do you actually enjoy these dinners?”

“Not really. Everyone’s so competitive that all they do is insult each other. Garrick and Gytha love telling me I’m going to fail.”

Garrick and Gytha seemed to enjoy tormenting everyone. “Do you have to pass every test to succeed?” If so, Karissa and Talfryn were already doomed.

“I don’t think so. The judgment’s based on cumulative performance, but no one knows how the magic decides.” She waved the thought away and stood. “Let’s go.”

I stood next to Aidan that night, watching Lara converse with the other candidates at a small dinner hosted by Illusion House. Markas and Garrick were seated together, and Gytha and Karissa seemed to be allies in bitchery again. All four of them insulted Lara frequently.

Lara was right—she had gotten better at looking bored. I could tell when a taunt had found its mark, though, by the clenching of her fingers and the occasional twitch of an eye.

“She’s doing well,” Aidan said. “She surprised everyone during the first trial.”

“She’s tougher than she looks.”

“Edric certainly isn’t underestimating her anymore.”

The Fire candidate had performed well, finishing the labyrinth on time with two tokens. As Edric threw his head back and laughed at a joke from Gytha, Aidan gazed at him fondly.

“You care about him, don’t you?” I asked.

“Very much.”

How unfair that the candidates faced possible death when they had friends and loved ones who worried for them. What would Aidan do if Edric failed? Where would he go? The scales between us were even, but if I could prevent him from losing someone he cared about…

“Illusion’s test will be puzzles and riddles,” I whispered. “Light is discipline, so controlling your body when your mind is compromised.”

He glanced at me in surprise. I shrugged. “Consider it repayment.” For taking a chance on me before the Void trial.

“But you’ve given me three pieces of information now, and I’ve only given you one.”

“Better come up with more, then.” I winked, and Aidan chuckled.

Lara lingered for private drinks with the other candidates, so I headed back towards Earth House alone. I took a different route than normal, one that was less direct but meandered past some interesting rooms. One hallway was lined with alcoves containing marble statuary, life-sized depictions of Noble Fae lords and ladies so realistic they looked ready to draw breath. The corridor air shifted in one of the strange breezes that drifted through Mistei; as the torchlight guttered and the shadows deepened, I imagined stone eyes shifting to watch me, stone hands clenching around weapons.

I shook my head at my own foolishness, then paused by the statue of a beautiful lady wrapped in roses, telling my heart to calm.

Footsteps sounded in the hall behind me. I spun, then felt relieved when Prince Drustan appeared. He was smiling and relaxed-looking, his garments shining bright as the torches. “Good evening, Kenna,” he said, coming to a stop beside me. He nodded at the statue. “I see you’ve found the first Earth lady, Princess Clota.”

A distant ancestor of Princess Oriana’s—I’d heard her name mentioned in the house. Her marble face was round, her figure lush, and a carved cascade of water seemed to pour from her upraised hand to pool at her feet. I wanted to ask who the other statues depicted, but Drustan had followed me here from dinner and there was undoubtedly a reason for it.

Looking at his easy smile, I remembered what I’d overheard: His depravity won’t last for much longer .

My relief shifted into a sparking uncertainty. Nervousness—or perhaps anticipation—prickled through me. “Good evening, my prince,” I said, curtsying.

He raised his auburn brows. “Are we formal this evening? I thought I made my preferences clear.”

“Only in private and when it comes to your friends,” I pointed out. “I’m a mere servant, and we’re still near Illusion territory.” Whatever his game, it was a dangerous one, and I was as wary as I was curious.

His smile widened, and that crooked grin scrambled my thoughts and sparked heat in my lower belly. It was a smile that invited confidences, confessions…intimacies. “And here I was hoping we were closer than that, Kenna.”

My cheeks heated at the way he nearly purred my name. Curse him for being so attractive—he muddled my head, made me feel hot and foolish. I looked around, but the hall was empty except for the statues in their shadowed recesses. Drustan didn’t seem worried about eavesdroppers, though his voice was pitched low enough not to carry.

Well, I preferred plain speaking anyway. “Me, specifically?” I asked just as softly, hoping my blush didn’t show in the low light. “Or someone placed advantageously in Earth House?”

His eyes flared slightly, then trailed over me. “When you ask questions like that, the answer is definitely you, specifically.”

He was standing too close. The heat emanating from him warmed my chest, my belly…lower. He looked breathtakingly perfect with that chiseled face and clever eyes and the Fae-bright glimmer of his skin—as unreachable as a star for a mere mortal, as untouchable —but oh, how I wanted to touch him. A few copper strands hung loose from his tied-back hair, and my fingers twitched with the desire to tuck them behind his ear.

I struggled for rational thought. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean by that, my prince.”

He leaned in, breath ghosting over my cheek. “Call me Drustan. And I think you do understand, Kenna.” He pulled back just enough for our eyes to meet. I fell into those gray irises, molten silver in the torchlight. “Bold but clever is a rare combination.”

My heart wasn’t working properly. Neither were my knees, which wavered. I clenched my fists in my skirt as if that would keep me standing upright. “I wish faeries would just say what they mean instead of talking around it.”

Drustan let out a surprised-sounding laugh, then straightened. “Not as much as I wish humans listened to the meaning between words.” He dug his teeth into his plush lower lip as he studied me. “Have a good evening, Kenna.”

He was going? I barely understood what had happened, but my entire body longed for him to stay. Still, I had my pride. “You as well.” I dabbed a tongue to my lip. “Drustan.”

His lashes briefly veiled his eyes. Then that smile tipped up again, crooked and sensual and hiding meanings I could only guess at. He walked away and turned the corner, leaving me feeling breathless and electrified.

“How interesting.”

I leapt backwards at the unexpected voice, pressing a hand to my chest as my shoulders slammed against the wall.

The shadows in an alcove at the end of the hall seemed to shift, and then a faerie walked out, tendrils of darkness trailing after him. Lord Kallen, whose face was as cold and still as a marble statue’s.

My pulse leapt frantically as he approached with measured footsteps. Hunting me slowly, like he knew there was nowhere I could run, no way for me to outpace him or hide. He could see in the dark and coil in the shadows like a snake; where could I go that he wouldn’t find me?

And then there he was, standing before me the way Drustan just had, except there was no heat coming from Kallen’s skin and his eyes spoke of black ice.

“Lord Kallen,” I said, fumbling a curtsy.

“Are you fucking the Fire prince?” he asked.

I flinched at the crude word. “N-no, my lord.”

“Hmm.” His gaze traced over me. “You will be soon, I’ll wager. He’s never set his sights on anything he cannot have.” A secret smile touched his lips. “For the most part.”

Did Drustan have his sights set on me? The thought was intoxicating, but not something to contemplate in the presence of the King’s Vengeance. He was saying it to draw some reaction out of me. “I’m on my way back to Earth House,” I said coolly. “If you’ll excuse me.”

I tried to move past him, but he gripped my wrist. Not hard, but not soft, either. Unyielding. “What were you two speaking of?”

“I—I don’t know,” I stammered. “He told me this statue was Princess Clota. He said he’d like for us to be closer. Then he wished me a good evening, and that was it.”

“That was it,” Kallen repeated. He didn’t look like he believed me.

There were meanings between Drustan’s words I hadn’t pieced together yet, so no, that wasn’t it, but I wasn’t lying, either. “I think he enjoys toying with me,” I told Kallen. Also not entirely a lie. “I’m a curiosity.”

“The human who made it across the bog,” he mused. “A drop of Fae blood and a large quantity of courage. I do see why it’s intriguing.”

The dagger shifted slightly on my arm, and I nearly startled again. I was so used to my permanent jewelry that I sometimes forgot it was there. I’d tried to take the cuff off for a bath once, but the metal had turned liquid and raced over my skin while nipping and projecting annoyance into my mind. Eventually I’d given up, deciding to worry about it later.

The dagger’s movement gave me some comfort. If I was in true danger, it would surely protect me. I took a deep breath, fumbling for that courage Kallen had so oddly complimented. “I wish you wouldn’t find me intriguing,” I said honestly.

There was a crack in his solemn expression, the slightest twitch of his mouth. “Most people share that sentiment.” He paused. “Most people don’t say it to my face, though.”

“May I leave, my lord?” I asked with as much politeness as I could manage. “I have duties to undertake back at the house.”

“No, you may not,” he said with none of the same politeness. “You haven’t given me any information.” His fingers flexed on my wrist. “And I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

A quiver raced through me. Sweat gathered at the small of my back and beneath my arms despite the chill of the corridor. Here it was, the payment coming due. What did I have to offer?

“I heard Garrick is the new heir to Light House,” I said. “The candidates were discussing it.”

Kallen’s face remained impassive. “Garrick assumes an outcome that isn’t settled yet. What else?”

“Else?” I asked. “Is that not enough?”

“For the weeks you’ve spent lurking in corners at court events? No, it’s not enough.” He tipped his head, making the midnight silk of his hair shift. It brushed his shoulders, straight and sleek as a raven’s wing. “Come now, Kenna. One more piece of information and I’ll let you leave.”

It was as hard to think around Kallen as it was around Drustan, though for different reasons. Drustan made me flustered with want, but right now fear was making my mind race in too many directions. Drustan’s grin might hide secrets, but Kallen didn’t smile at all…and I suspected his secrets were far worse.

There was one thing I could offer, though its origins would need to be obscured. “I overheard something at a party,” I said. “Someone mentioned a place—Elsmere? They said it had a new ruler. Or was about to.”

His eyes widened. “Who said that?” he demanded. It was the strongest show of emotion I’d seen from him yet.

“I don’t know.” I thought of the pale figures through the stained glass of the library window. They wouldn’t have been members of Light House, since Light was allied with the king. More likely it had been a Fire lady wearing a pastel yellow gown that was impossible to differentiate from ivory through the colorful glass. “A Light lady,” I lied. “I don’t know her name.”

“What did she look like?”

“She had…brown hair?” I hazarded, figuring that would encompass the largest number of people. I was dropping false clues, but I didn’t want him to actually follow them anywhere.

“Is that a question, or are you telling me?”

“She had brown hair,” I repeated. “Light skin. It was an offhand comment, and I don’t remember the rest of the conversation. The word just caught my ear because I’d never heard of Elsmere before.”

He stared at me for a few more agonizing seconds, then released my wrist. “That will suffice for tonight.”

I breathed a silent sigh of relief and cupped my wrist in my other hand, rubbing it not because it hurt but because I wanted to wipe away the memory of his touch.

His dark eyes dipped to my wrist, then back up. Torchlight flickered across his face, making his cheekbones and nose seem sharp as blades. “Until next time, Kenna.”

The shadows in the alcove across the way darkened and thickened, then started crawling across the floor towards us. I stumbled back, pressing myself against the wall as the tendrils wound around Kallen’s ankles, up his legs, and around his torso, wrapping him in a cocoon of night. The last to vanish were his eyes, which still watched me.

A breeze rippled the hem of my dress. When the light in the corridor returned to normal, he was gone.