Servant of Earth

Chapter 22

22

The final event before the Fire trial was a picnic. It seemed strangely innocuous compared to everything I’d experienced so far, yet there I was, basket in hand, following Lara out into a warm spring day.

I laid out a blanket, placed plates of food on the grass, and retreated beneath a nearby tree to stand with Aidan.

“Do the Fae normally go aboveground this often?” I asked. This sunny slope was still part of a larger prison, but it provided an illusion of freedom.

“No,” he said. “Trial years are special. The major festivals are always held aboveground, but events like this wouldn’t normally happen.”

While I had chosen a patch of shade, Aidan stood beneath a gap between the branches, lifting his face to the sun. His eyes were closed in bliss.

I smiled at him. “You look happy.”

“Fire faeries like heat.”

“What’s it like inside Fire House?”

He sighed contentedly. “Very warm and very dramatic. The furnishings are every shade of flame, and there are torches everywhere. There are hot baths fed by underground springs and piles of pillows in every room, so you can always feel warm and relaxed. Some rooms are even carpeted in fire. The whole place flickers and glows, and aromatic smoke fills the hallways.” His tone was dreamy as he painted the picture.

“That does sound dramatic.” The hot baths and piles of pillows would be nice, but I couldn’t imagine preferring carpets of fire to Earth House’s soothing ambience.

Aidan winked. “Someone’s always drinking or fucking in a corner, too.”

I wondered how often that someone was Drustan. Frequently, no doubt. I suppressed a stab of jealousy. He was a prince, and even if he weren’t, just because we’d kissed didn’t make him mine.

I heard a snap and realized Lara and the candidates seated around her were staring at me. I headed in her direction as Aidan whispered, “Good luck.”

I curtsied when I reached Lara’s side. “Yes, my lady?”

She wouldn’t quite meet my eyes. “Here she is,” she announced to the group. Gytha, Talfryn, Una, Karissa, and Markas examined me with interest.

My senses went on alert, like an animal realizing predators were nearby. Why were they staring at me?

“Your pet is so small.” Karissa tittered behind her hand. “Like a child.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I was short, yes, but not that short. Short had been a minor inconvenience in the human world, but it seemed to be an insult among the statuesque Fae.

“Ugly, too,” Gytha said. “Like a little goblin.”

Gytha, Karissa, and Markas laughed.

It was foolish to feel stung by the words, especially when I knew they weren’t true. Gytha and Karissa were just playing some game designed to humiliate Lara.

Una studied me with keen dark eyes. The Void lady had been one of the most successful candidates so far, and more than one servant was betting on her success. She was dressed more simply than the other candidates, per usual, in a loose-fitting black linen sheath dress. “Have you ever seen a goblin, Gytha?” she asked. “Somehow I doubt it.”

“Why would you doubt me?”

Una’s smile dripped with wicked poison. “Because I can’t imagine you having the courage to visit the Nasties.”

More laughs followed this assertion. Gytha glared at Una, but the Void lady remained unruffled, so Gytha returned her attention to me. “Her hair is like a bramble patch. I’m shocked the king would give you such an atrocious-looking servant, Lara.”

Lara still wouldn’t meet my eyes. She shrugged.

My stomach sank further with each new taunt, and my resolution not to compare Lara with Anya faltered. Anya had never stood by when a friend was in need.

“He knows the servant reflects the master.” The voice behind me announced the arrival of Garrick. I kept my spine straight as the Light candidate approached. I could feel him behind me, a heavy tingle that raised the hairs on my neck. “They say you’re a beauty, Lara. Perhaps the king meant to reflect other parts of your personality.”

Talfryn shot to his feet. “Lady Lara’s personality is as beautiful as her face.”

“Talfryn,” Lara said quietly.

“It’s true.” Talfryn stood firm. “I won’t allow anyone to demean the heir to my house.”

Garrick laughed, and I jerked as one of his fingers traced the back of my neck beneath my upswept hair. “You don’t stand a chance, Talfryn. Sit down before I maim you.”

Talfryn, to his credit, remained standing.

Markas, who had become Garrick’s frequent ally in cruelty, stood and joined Garrick. Now both of them were behind me. Tempting as it was to turn and spit in their faces, that wasn’t my role here, and it would reflect poorly on Lara and probably yield terrible consequences. I held still despite the tense energy racing through me and commanding me to run.

“Sit down,” Lara ordered Talfryn, undoubtedly trying to defuse the situation. At last, he sat.

Garrick didn’t remove his hand, though. Instead, his finger trailed down my spine to my waist. My skin crawled at the too-intimate contact. “She’s scrawny, too.”

“Garrick,” Una said in bored, icy tones. “Is this meant to be entertainment? It’s very dull.”

“I’m just trying to solve a puzzle. Here we have a beautiful Noble Fae lady, who Talfryn maintains is as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside, and here we have her scrawny human servant. Perhaps her beauty is hidden, hmm?”

He gripped my collar and pulled.

The fabric resisted, choking me. I coughed, hands flying to my neck, but the stitches began to give way beneath his strength. My dress split down the shoulder seam.

“Stop it, Garrick.” Lara reached out an ineffectual hand.

Markas laughed, and then he was attacking the other side of my dress. He yanked on a sleeve, sending me stumbling. The dress ripped entirely on Garrick’s side, the front falling loose. I scrambled to cover myself. I was wearing a chemise, but faerie undergarments were whisper-thin and hid little.

The dagger armlet hummed frantically, its top edge now mere inches from Garrick’s fingers. A few more tugs on my sleeve and it would be revealed. I struggled to escape, but Markas’s arm looped around my waist, holding me still as Garrick circled in front.

Kill , the dagger whispered. Drink .

“Stop it.” Lara had risen at last and was pulling on Garrick’s arm. Defending me, but it was too little, too late.

Garrick laughed and ripped the hanging flap of the dress down to my waist. My sweat-dampened chemise stuck to my skin, the fabric translucent. I flushed. No man had ever seen me in this state of undress.

“What do you think?” He gripped the neck of my chemise as I fought to shield myself. “Do humans have some hidden beauty underneath their clothes?”

Kill . To my horror, the dagger began creeping up my arm, ready to strike.

No . You can’t kill him . If the dagger killed him, I would certainly be put to death.

Punish , it said, and punishing sounded perfect, but if anyone realized I carried a weapon, it would be taken away. I couldn’t afford to lose it now.

Garrick knocked my arms away and ripped my chemise down the front. I cried out, kicking at him as I tried to cover myself, but Markas gripped my wrists and forced my arms behind my back. My breasts were exposed to the entire picnic. Faeries watched from nearby blankets, curious about the commotion. My cheeks burned and my heart raced with a potent mixture of hatred and terror.

“Shall I continue?” Garrick shrugged off Lara’s hand as she tried to stop him again.

Hit him , I silently begged, but Lara was still too meek to attack a fellow candidate. She pleaded with him while he laughed and gripped the fabric at my waist, preparing to tear my final shield away from me.

The dagger began slithering down my arm towards Markas’s imprisoning fists, singing a melody of hatred in my head. Punish. Punish. Punish .

“Stop this.” A new, thunderous voice joined the mix.

Markas released me instantly. Seconds later, Garrick stepped back as well. I covered myself, struggling to pull the torn parts of my gown back together before turning around.

Lord Kallen stood a few feet away, as still as a wildcat about to pounce. His dark eyes burned with the promise of violence. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked in the coldest, most terrifying tone I’d heard from him yet.

I stumbled back, holding my torn dress tight to my chest.

“A mere game.” Garrick spread his hands innocently.

Una moved to her brother’s side and whispered in his ear. When she was done, Kallen looked even more murderous.

“The human is off-limits,” Kallen said. “She belongs to Earth House.”

Garrick had the nerve to laugh. “She’s a human. Why does it matter? She’s worthless.”

Kallen moved so quickly I didn’t see more than a black-and-silver blur before his sword rested at Garrick’s throat. “Think carefully before you question my orders.”

A speck of night appeared in the air beside Garrick, the size of a coin but swiftly growing. Garrick yelped, but he couldn’t retreat from the killing darkness or he’d sever his own throat on Kallen’s sword. “You can’t kill me,” he said, bravado turning to bluster.

Kallen smiled, slow and awful. “Oh, believe me, I can.”

The blackness grew, pressing closer and closer to Garrick’s sleeve.

“Forgive my impudence, Lord Kallen,” Garrick blurted. “I didn’t mean to question your orders.”

Kallen didn’t move. “You apologize for questioning my orders—yet you do not regret assaulting a servant from another house?”

Beads of sweat formed on Garrick’s forehead as the hole inched closer. “Lady Lara, forgive my insult to your house.”

No apology to me, of course. I glared at Garrick, wishing him dead. The dagger hummed in agreement.

“What is your response, Lady Lara?”

Lara looked between us with wide eyes. “Just—don’t let it happen again.”

I winced at the tepid response, once again feeling the sting of betrayal. Lara, my mistress, my friend , had let this happen. She could have stopped it, and she hadn’t.

The Void magic vanished, and Kallen sheathed his sword. He snapped his fingers at me. “Come.”

I bristled at once again being called like a dog, but I had no choice. I walked towards him as steadily as I could, holding my dress in place and trying to conceal my shaking.

“Where are you taking her?” Lara made eye contact with me at last, an apology written on her face. I ignored it.

“I will escort her back to Earth House. Una’s handmaiden can serve you.”

Garrick’s hostile eyes followed as the Void lord led me underground.

“Are you well?” Kallen asked once we had descended several levels.

I struggled against the angry words that wanted to burst out of me. The dagger still hummed against my skin, egging me on. Punish. Rage. Hate. Kill. In the end, I was too unsettled to maintain any pretense of calm. “Of course I’m not,” I spat.

“I’m sorry for what Garrick did.” I couldn’t read his face anymore; his fury had faded into stillness. Perhaps it had all been for show. “It was unacceptable.”

“Because I belong to Earth House, right? Because it’s illegal to mishandle someone else’s property.” When he didn’t respond, I kept goading him. “I’m not anyone’s property, you know.”

“In Mistei you are. That’s how the system works.”

“Well, maybe it shouldn’t work like that.” I stalked by his side, unwilling to trail behind like a lost puppy. “Maybe this court needs to be taught a lesson.” The dagger echoed my thoughts as it took a tiny sip of my blood, as if soothing its own violent impulses. I welcomed the small sting—it grounded me in my body, gave form to my rage.

Kallen gripped my arm and pulled me into a small, mostly bare room. A shimmering, translucent black curtain fell over the door, just like the wards I’d seen Drustan cast. “Never say anything like that again.”

“Why not?” I demanded as I clutched the dress tightly to my chest. Somewhere deep down I knew why not, but rage ruled me. Fury pumped through my veins, filling me with restless energy that needed an outlet. If I couldn’t express it in an argument with him, I would scream until my voice went hoarse.

Kallen’s eyes burned with some intense, unfathomable emotion, but his face was as still as if it had been carved from stone. What did this cold, mysterious faerie feel? I got the sense sometimes that his eyes were openings to a very deep pit, and some terrible beast lurked at the bottom.

“Do you want to live?” he asked.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean—”

“It does. This is the world you live in, and if you want to survive long enough to change it, then you have to play by its rules.”

Change it? Kallen had the ear of the king; why would he want to change anything? I scoffed. “Why don’t you just report me to King Osric? Betray me the way you did that noble from Void House when he spoke treason? Isn’t that your job, to be the king’s loyal dog?”

Something awful had gotten into me. The words fell into the air like a hammer against an anvil. I pressed a hand to my mouth as if I could push them back in, but it was too late.

Kallen looked taken aback—and then furious. “I don’t tell the king about you because you are useful,” he bit out, and I cringed at his sharp tone. “You’re positioned in a house whose allegiance would make all the difference in an uprising. Since most faeries don’t notice humans, you can move freely. All of this makes you worth saving—so long as you continue providing me with information.”

So I was only worth saving because I made a good spy. I tasted his bitter truth—and rejected it. “I’m worth saving anyway. I’m not your puppet.”

Kallen spun and paced to the wall. He raised a fist, and at first I thought he was going to strike the stone, but instead he rested his hand against it, bowing his head.

My breaths sounded excruciatingly loud in the silence.

“What has Drustan told you lately?” he finally asked.

A ragged laugh burst out of me. “That’s it?” I wasn’t sure what else I had expected. More angry words? For him to banish me to rot with the other humans? Why did I even want this confrontation with one of the most dangerous faeries in Mistei to continue? But my anger wouldn’t let me back down, and the dagger on my arm reveled in that rage, rippling against my skin.

Kallen was suddenly in my face, his hard body mere inches from mine. I raised my chin, unwilling to retreat. I still held my dress in place with one hand, and with every breath, my knuckles barely brushed his chest. His gaze lingered on my mouth before dropping to the hand clenched at my breast. “Are you looking for a fight?” His voice was so soft I wouldn’t have been able to hear him if I’d been standing only a few feet farther away.

“No.” The statement came out breathier than I had intended.

“I think you are. The question is, why?”

Why, indeed? I didn’t understand myself.

We stood together, two adversaries locked in silent combat, until finally he stepped back. “Tell me about Drustan.”

The breath whooshed out of me at Kallen’s retreat. “He hasn’t told me anything of note.”

“I don’t care if you think it’s of note or not.”

Clearly I had to say something or Kallen would never leave me alone. “He told me about the changelings.”

“Why? What did he tell you about them?”

“I had questions after the dinner. He told me why the babies are sent away.”

“And what are Drustan’s feelings about changelings?”

Drustan had been devastated as he’d recalled the fate of his closest friend and her child. “I don’t know. I assume he finds it cruel.”

“As you do.” His gaze took in all of me, as if he could see down to the root of my soul.

“Yes,” I said honestly. “I’m just a human, though.”

We studied each other, and I wondered again what he thought and felt. If Hector wanted to take the throne, would Kallen support him? Or did he only support his own well-being and thus the well-being of the king?

I was still feeling bold. “What do you think about the changelings?”

Kallen looked away. “That will be all.”

I couldn’t let it go. He’d taken all my anger so far without throwing me to Osric and his executioners—he could take this, too. “Are you saying you don’t care?” A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he didn’t reply, so I pressed on. “That child will never know his mother. The human baby who replaces him will suffer. Do you truly not have a problem with that?”

“I can’t afford to have a problem with that,” he said. “None of us can.”

I wanted to call him a monster for refusing to care about the helpless. That wasn’t entirely true, though, was it? I’d been helpless today, and he had saved me.

His phrasing struck me as significant. I can’t afford to have a problem with that , he’d said. Not I don’t have a problem with it .

Remembering Garrick’s hands on me, the tearing sound of my dress and the brush of air against my bare skin, I wondered how much worse it would have gotten if Kallen hadn’t intervened. I was useful to him alive, but why should it matter to him if I were humiliated or hurt? Why stop Garrick and Markas at all?

The King’s Vengeance wouldn’t— shouldn’t —care.

“Why did you do it?” I asked, my tone softer than it had been before. A weapon partially sheathed.

“Do what?”

It didn’t sound like a real question, though. His eyes flicked between mine, then dropped to where my hand still clutched my torn dress together.

“Save me. It can’t have just been because I’m useful.”

He looked at me for a seemingly endless stretch of time. Midnight-blue eyes, inscrutable expression. Tension in his jaw…and everywhere else, I realized. Like he was perpetually ready for some unknown calamity. Like he was…waiting.

“No,” he finally said. “It wasn’t.” Then he swallowed. “Do you wish I hadn’t?”

Maybe the room was shifting. Maybe I was dizzy from stress. I felt like I was sinking slowly into the bog, my foot having found something that looked like clover but wasn’t, and a shadow underneath was reaching up to gently pull me under.

Kallen wasn’t telling me why, but he had given an answer all the same. And strangest of all was that he almost looked unsure. Like he was afraid of what I might say.

Fae misdirection, probably. The urge to play with his prey. Lord Kallen probably didn’t feel enough to fear anything.

Still…

I cleared my throat. “I suppose I should thank you.”

At that, the hint of uncertainty in his expression fled, and his lips quirked slightly. “And are you going to?”

I wrestled with my own tongue for a few seconds. “Thank you,” I finally managed to say.

In response, he inclined his head.

Uncomfortable with my own gratitude, I took a deep breath. “Very well. I’m leaving.”

“You are to continue sharing any and all information with me,” he said. “Especially when it relates to Prince Drustan, and especially if it relates to any rumors of rebellion, unrest, or negative sentiment against the king.”

An odd stab of disappointment went through me as I realized we were right back where we had started. “Of course.” Not .

My hand was on the door handle when I remembered something from that terrible night when the king had ripped a baby from its mother’s arms. The child’s father was from Void House. “The changeling. You didn’t…Were you the one who told King Osric about him?”

“No,” he said instantly. Vehemently. “But I’ll find out who did. And believe me when I say the father has been punished for his failure.”

What failure? Abandoning his lover and infant in their time of need? Or siring a child in the first place?

I wouldn’t ask, though. Not when I’d already pushed so hard and miraculously come out unscathed. I nodded and slipped out, leaving Kallen behind.

Lara knocked on my door late that night.

I rubbed sleep from my eyes and padded to the door between our rooms. My stomach sank at the thought of seeing her, but I opened it anyway.

She wore a filmy white nightgown and her braid was uneven—because I had refused to tend to her before bedtime. Her eyes were reddened.

“Can I come in?” she asked in a small voice.

I stepped aside and silently ushered her into the room.

She looked around, taking in the simple surroundings before sitting gingerly on my bed. “It shouldn’t have gone on that long.”

“It shouldn’t have gone on at all,” I snapped. “A responsible mistress wouldn’t have let that happen to her property. A friend wouldn’t have let that happen.”

Lara winced at my harsh words. Her fingers clenched in her gown, crushing the delicate fabric. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

I sighed and sat beside her. “Even if you’re sorry, it still hurts.”

“I know.” Her hand covered mine. “I’ve never known how to stand up for myself, so I’ve never really thought about standing up for other people. I didn’t know what to do.”

My throat ached. “You could have made him stop. Yelled at him. Hit him. Anything.”

“I’m not a fighter. Not like you. I don’t have that in me.” Her mouth quirked in a lopsided smile, but I saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. “You would have been a better Noble Fae than me.”

Would I? I didn’t think so. Not if being Fae meant being callous and calculating. Not if it meant hurting the people around me. “I’m not Fae. You are. You’re the heir to Earth House and a candidate in the trials. You have to be strong.”

Those watery brown eyes met mine. “How?”

“I don’t know. Practice, I suppose.”

“I’m afraid.”

“So am I. It doesn’t matter, though. We have to be strong. And you have to be even stronger than me, because so many depend on you. I depend on you.”

She nodded and squeezed my hand before releasing it. She dashed the tears from her eyes. “I’ll try.”

It was all I could ask. I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat as she rose and walked to the door.

“You aren’t property,” she said over her shoulder. “I—I don’t know how to have a friend. I’ve never really had one before. But I’ll keep trying.”

She left before the first tears fell into my lap.