Chapter 24
Artifacts of the Ancients are much sought, but also misunderstood.
—OLD ONES, ANCIENTS, AND THE FOLK
The rest of the day threatened to crawl by almost as slowly as the previous one.
Thea watched the Huntsmen practice in the training yard, wishing she was down there sparring with Cedric or Burke.
Cassia’s bright wings were easily visible, catching sunlight in a way that made them sparkle.
Enora’s pale hair was braided into her usual crown, and her movements were as graceful and economical as ever, something Thea had always admired about her elder sister.
Rozie’s bright shock of red hair was a moving spot of color as she wandered the edge of the yard, occasionally stopping by Tibald, making him bend his head to reply to whatever she had said.
Something made Rozie laugh, and Thea’s heart contracted with love.
She would die to protect any one of her sisters, but she had a soft spot in her heart for little Rozie, who she thought might be the best of them.
A pained sort of longing hit Thea as she thought of the time with her sisters that could be stolen from her.
She tried to memorize everything about the scene, not knowing when or if she might see it again.
When training was over, her sisters turned and waved to her, Enora’s face the most worried of the three.
Thea waved back, trying to look like she didn’t mind her confinement.
But she was well aware that each of her sisters would know better.
After sleeping for a few hours, Thea sat at a small table for something she almost never did: She wrote a letter.
She intended to produce a detailed account of what had happened to her in the shadow realm, but just as she began, her hand cramped painfully, and she could not form the letters.
Disgusted by the restraint of the spell, she almost hurled the quill across the room, but that would only make more work for the lutin who cleaned the bedchambers.
Instead, she composed a letter to Autumn: “If something happens to me, know that it went as I expected and tell my sisters everything you know.”
There. Simple and direct and her hand had only twinged once as she wrote the words “tell my sisters.” She hoped Winter would return and find it, and deliver it to the other pixie.
The garments appeared on Thea’s hearth in early evening.
Thea lifted the newest dress carefully. It was very heavy, and like nothing she’d ever seen.
Gold scales ran over the tight-fitting bodice, down the skirt, ending halfway down the thighs.
Under that, transparent black fabric flared out, showing glimpses of her legs.
The shoulders were curved and came to a point.
The sleeves were made of the same transparent black fabric as the skirt, flowing loose over her wrists and hiding her hands.
There were no stockings or gloves this time.
Intrigued, she put on the dress, then stared at her reflection in the looking glass. It was unlike anything the Sylvans wore, in a style from a different place, born of a wild imagination. It said something about Damon that he had dreamed of this for her.
The gold scales felt cool against her skin, but soon warmed to her touch.
Not gold, she realized, but another metal plated with gold.
More like beautiful chain mail. She wondered at the significance of Damon sending her armor.
A nod to their deal to be allies? If she was to wear armor, she needed a weapon.
Remembering her wish for her dagger the previous night, she strapped the holster to her thigh.
She left her hair loose, trailing down her back.
The shoes were black leather half boots with gold laces.
She slid one on. As she was about to put on the second, she heard a murmuring outside her door, followed by the distinct sound of unlatching.
She expected to see Cassia or maybe Rozie looking triumphant at her own cleverness…
Only to find herself facing the Court Seer. A zing of warning traveled up Thea’s spine, though she kept her emotions hidden.
“Hello, Thea,” Veleda said, coming into the room.
“Did you know there’s a major breach in our wards in your bedchamber?
” Without waiting for a reply, the Seer moved to the fireplace.
“Right here. And it stinks of magic.” Veleda turned to face her, eyes burning with accusation as she looked her up and down.
“You are wearing one of his dresses. How could you?”
“My mother—” It was all Thea could get out before her tongue froze.
Veleda’s hands were curled into fists. “Yes, I know. I confronted your father, and he told me the truth.”
Thea’s mouth dropped open. Her father told Veleda everything when he wouldn’t tell her or her sisters?
“You are playing with forces far, far more powerful than you can handle. Your mother made an incredible sacrifice to keep you safe, and here you are, throwing it away.”
Thea’s hands curled into fists. “I’m trying to save her!”
The Seer suddenly looked tired. “Your father told me she’s beyond saving.”
Thea gasped at the coldness and finality of her father’s view. “I don’t believe that!”
“It doesn’t matter what you believe,” Veleda snapped. “You aren’t going back there. I placed a spell on the breach so that you can’t leave this way again.” She swept her hand toward the hearth. “I’m afraid that dress is the last you’ll receive from the shadow king.”
“This is not from… him,” Thea said, trying not to trigger the spell that would stop her tongue. “His son… helping. Allies.” She had to choke the last part out before her throat closed altogether.
Veleda laughed. “If he has a son, he’s cut from the same cloth as his father.
I’d wager Erebus has him do all the nasty things he can no longer do himself.
Do you realize they stole one of the artifacts of the Ancients?
The silver cup of forgetfulness.” She nodded at Thea’s shocked expression.
“That’s what the king uses to confine spirits to his realm.
He transforms them, and he makes them forget who they are so they won’t break free. ”
Finally, the Seer was telling her something useful. “How do you counteract it?”
Veleda gave her an incredulous look. “Is that the folly you’re pursuing? What has the son of the shadow king told you? You must stay away from him and that place.”
“I won’t abandon my mother.”
“You have no choice.” When Veleda came toward her, leaving the door unguarded, Thea did not hesitate. She dodged around her and rushed to leave. Or would have if she hadn’t hit an invisible barrier that bounced her backward.
“It’s warded,” Veleda said calmly as Thea massaged her aching chest. “Only I can step through.” She raised her eyebrows at Thea’s expression.
“You’re looking at me like I’m your enemy.
I’m only trying to protect you. It’s easy for the shadow king and his son to manipulate innocent folk, and impossible to get free once you’ve realized you trusted the wrong person. ”
“You’re trying to carry out my father’s orders,” Thea corrected. “Which are not going to protect any of us.”
The Seer gave her a skeptical look. “What do you mean?”
“Thirstwood is in danger. If the veil falls…” Her tongue froze. Thea tried to curse but couldn’t even get that out. She needed to warn everyone about the shadow king’s plans to bring his creatures above and turn everyone into silver trees.
Veleda sighed in a pitying way. “I know you must think what you’re doing is right—”
Thea cut her off. “You’re not stopping me.
” Arguing was a waste of breath, especially if she couldn’t speak openly.
Thea wrapped her arms around Veleda, half carrying her to the doorway.
A palpable resistance pressed hard against Thea in the threshold, but it didn’t throw her backward this time—as she’d hoped.
She’d guessed that the ward was designed to keep Thea in but to allow Veleda both entry and exit.
Now, they were too closely entwined for the spell to work properly.
“No!” Veleda said, struggling against her as she started to speak a spell.
Acting on instinct, Thea took her fist to Veleda’s temple.
It was a measured blow, just enough to knock the Seer unconscious.
Veleda’s eyes rolled back and her body went limp.
Thea grabbed her as she fell, placing her gently in the doorway to keep the ward from working.
Quickly, she ran inside her bedchamber to grab the second boot. The moment she laced them up, the boots urged her forward. She stepped over Veleda’s unconscious form, ran down the stairs and through the hallways, and past Huntsmen who clearly couldn’t see her toward the main doors.
Only to find a massive figure was blocking the doorway that led out of the fortress.
Thea cursed roundly.
Her father.
It took a second to remember that she was invisible. If she was quiet, she could turn around and leave by another route.
The Sylvan king’s antlered head lifted. He sniffed as if scenting prey, then raised his arm. He was holding a pair of slippers. Veleda must have snuck into Thea’s bedchamber while she’d slept, found the discarded slippers, and taken them to her father. I should have burned them!
“Thea,” he said, his voice a quiet rumble. “I know where you’ve been going.”
Thea edged backward, step by step, relieved he could not see her. She longed to shout that if she didn’t go, she’d be condemning her mother—his wife who’d once brought joy and laughter to the grim fortress—to eternal suffering.
“I know the magic that lures you,” her father said, his head turning from left to right as his eyes moved over the entrance hall.
“I smell it, as distinct as the night your mother returned from her first visit to the shadow realm.” He paused, his gaze roving the entrance hall, fixing on a spot somewhere behind her. “You will not go there again.”