Chapter 30
The magic of the Old Ones is chaotic by nature. It is hard to control, and harder still to bear for any mortal.
—A SEER’S GUIDE
Pleasure drowned out her pain, and by the time Thea slept, she’d all but forgotten her cracked rib. When she woke, she opened her eyes to brighter light but no fire in the fireplace. Her hand came out to search for Damon, but the sheets were cold and empty.
She sat up, letting the blanket fall from her, then as quickly snatched it back over herself. A gray cowled figure sat in the chair by the fire.
“Prospect,” she spat, the word a curse on her tongue. “Get out.”
The Seer’s chin lifted. “Don’t think I care anything for your state of undress. I am here by orders of my king. I am to bring you to him.”
“I haven’t been here nine nights, you toad,” she told him, hurling a pillow. His shadows snaked out and deflected it. Thea contemplated more projectiles, but no doubt he’d block them, too.
Prospect’s hood cast shadows that blended with the darkness swirling around him. “The number of nights has no bearing. The king demands to see you. Now.”
She looked around the room, starting to feel the tendrils of fear. “Where is Damon?”
Prospect pushed to his feet. “He reported to his father hours ago. Come. Don’t keep him waiting.”
Thea clutched at hope that this was a bluff. “Damon wouldn’t leave without telling me.”
“He wasn’t given a choice.” Prospect took a step toward the bed.
“You don’t seem to understand how things work here.
The king commands. We obey. If someone resists, he sends his shadows to enforce his word.
There is no method by which to fight him.
Not here. And soon, not above, either. Soon, your world will be a part of his. ”
Her heart slammed her aching ribs at the reminder that there was so much more at stake than herself and her mother.
Prospect opened the door, allowing in a blast of cold air. “Hurry. Meet your fate bravely like the Huntsman you are so proud to be.”
Thea’s back stiffened, her pride responding to his challenge. She threw off the blanket and got to her feet, snarling when the Seer didn’t look away, “You seem to care a little for my state of undress. Avert your eyes, Seer, or I’ll take them out.”
He turned his head away. “Your bravado won’t help you.”
“Then what will?” It was a gamble to ask, knowing he wasn’t likely to tell her anything useful, much less the truth.
“Only the Ancients can save you now.” The Seer’s eyes were mostly hidden by shadow, but she caught his expression in profile, which was stiff and serious. “And this realm is untouched even by them.”
She yanked the filmy gown over her head, grabbing the feather robe. “What are you, anyway?” she asked as she put her arms through the openings. “Sylvan, Azpian, human, what?”
“Old,” he said, his voice acerbic. “Now hurry. The king doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Thea felt as if she were still naked as she stood in front of King Erebus’s dark throne, his shadows whirling like smoke. Cold seeped from the gravel stones beneath the thin soles of her slippers, making her shiver. She wished she were wearing armor instead of the thin gown and robe.
“The Sylvan queen’s daughter,” Prospect said, bowing.
Thea’s stomach lurched as she noticed her mother’s silver tree leaning toward the throne instead of away.
As she watched, one of the branches touched the king’s shoulder, a quiet scrape of bark against cloth.
Erebus’s eyes narrowed. Casually, he reached up and plucked a leaf from it, smiling as he brought it to his lips.
“Ah, my lovely Coventina, how sad I will be to see you go. You have given me such comfort, staying by my side in the eternal night of my realm. I have peeled your bark in my anger, stripped you of your leaves, and yet you still stay, your spirit as strong as ever, feeding my power.”
As Thea imagined the cruelties her mother had endured, she couldn’t control her fury. “You’re weak!” she shouted, taking a step toward him. “Stealing power from those who have no choice, abusing folk with no defense against you. Taking their freedom. You’re a monster.”
The king’s shadows moved toward Thea, and she braced herself for their attack, but instead, they swirled around her for a moment before Erebus made a gesture, calling them back.
He looked puzzled, as if he hadn’t expected that.
His eyes swept over her in a thorough appraisal.
“My willow,” he said, as if that were an endearment.
“So strong, so confident. Perhaps with all that passion, your leaves will be sweeter than your mother’s.
I still find hers to be somewhat bitter.
” He bit into the leaf he held, the rip of his teeth making Thea wince at the implication: that he was devouring a part of her mother, taking from her spirit, taking what was not given freely.
She wanted him dead. No, not just dead… obliterated, as if he’d never been.
“You don’t seem surprised to learn that it is your mother here, beside me.” He tilted his head toward the tree. “No doubt my son told you.”
“Where’s Damon?” Thea demanded, still desperately scanning the corners for signs of him.
“He is taking some time away to think,” Erebus replied, his light tone at odds with the menace in his eyes. “You see, he has been disobedient and must feel the consequences.”
Thea hated him more and more with each word. “I want to see him.” When he tugged at another silver leaf, she took two steps toward him, halting when his shadows snaked out to block her. “If you touch my mother one more time, I will dismember you.”
His laugh rose and faded into the void all around them. “Your bravado is entertaining. But pointless.”
A shiver ran through her at the cold certainty in his eyes. Thea crossed her arms, trying to hold herself together. “You had no right to demand my presence here. I don’t have to appear before you until my ninth night.”
“Ah,” he said, tapping his chin. “You have heard the rules, and you believe I must abide by them. How charmingly innocent. Those were merely privileges I offered to Damon so he could gain some magic for his small domain. And I grew impatient to see you.”
Impatient to see if she was stronger than her mother?
Thea’s stomach churned at the terrible choice she would be offered, though she knew in her heart how she would decide.
She could not leave her mother here when she could send her home to Enora, Cassia, and especially Rozie—who needed a mother more than ever at her age.
And… maybe someday Damon would find a way to free her. The thought gave her a little comfort. “I know my choice,” she said. “Offer it to me and be done.”
“There is,” the king said slowly, “another possibility.”
Thea raised her chin, knowing he must be playing with her. “What is it?”
He rested his head against the back of the throne, staring down at her through half-lowered lids.
“Your first option is to trade places with your mother. You will never be able to speak nor move, aside from a slight shake of branches now and then when you are in a mood, as your mother is frequently of late.” He glanced at the tree beside him, smiling slightly.
“But you will be my most prized of silver trees, getting my attention daily for the rest of your blessed existence.” He turned his head to the Seer.
“Not a bad choice, wouldn’t you say, Prospect? ”
“No, sire,” the Seer agreed eagerly. “A generous offer, indeed.”
Thea glared at Prospect. She wished she could stab the insufferable sycophant in the throat so he could never simper again.
“But I feel so generous,” the king went on, “that I am offering a second option.” His expression changed to one of woe.
Thea was reminded of a poor playactor who’d once performed in Scarhamm’s great hall.
“You are healthy. Strong. Young. All the qualities I’ve needed by my side and lacked until fate delivered you to me. ”
Thea’s tiny spark of hope was dying. She had the feeling he was about to offer her something worse than being bound in silver.
“My shadows are drawn to desire, revelry, wildness, and chaos,” he went on. “They sense all these things in you. Damon, on the other hand, has always had to fight to gain their allegiance. I thought perhaps he had potential, but in the end, I was disappointed. My son has shown himself to be weak.”
“He’s twice the man you are,” Thea said, sick to think this was the abuse Damon had to endure.
Erebus moved his index finger in a small gesture, and the shadows converged on her, slamming into her back and shoulders and taking her to her knees. The sharp gravel cut through the thin cloth and into her skin, drawing blood. She met the king’s eyes, refusing to bow her head.
“As I said, strong.” His tone was triumphant. “Unbending. Unwavering. Because of these qualities, I am offering you another choice. You may free your mother and also keep your own freedom, Theodora. All you need do is swear allegiance to me… with a Sylvan vow.”
Thea’s lips parted, her breath coming in short bursts. That was his offer? That was not freedom. Pledging to follow Erebus would be worse than being a mere witness to his cruelty. He would expect her to perpetrate atrocities along with him.
“I understand my choices,” Thea said. “Let me be clear, Erebus. I have no intention of swearing allegiance to someone as petty and cruel as you.”
A shadow came forward and wrapped around her face over her mouth, silencing her. Another shadow took a hunk of hair at the back of her head and forced her to look at the king. She put all her hatred into her stare.
Erebus stared back, his lips curving as he noticed the branches waving near his face.
“Coventina, my love.” He reached up and stroked a finger over one silver bough.
“Your daughter is so much prettier when she’s quiet, don’t you think?
” The branches shook violently, one of the leaves falling onto the king’s shoulder.
He brushed it off, with an air of lazy amusement.
“So emotional. You really must calm yourself.”
Thea’s throat ached as she grappled with the shadows over her mouth, trying to fling them off so she could tell him what she thought of his suggestions.
“Another small detail before you decide,” King Erebus added, pausing for an agonizingly long moment before continuing. “Damon is in the cave. I assume he’s told you of it?”
Thea tried to suck in a breath and choked on shadows.
“He is trapped there with no way out.” The king pretended to sound sad, but his eyes were bright with pleasure. “He is cold, scared, sick with worry for you. And dying.”
Her body jerked as she registered that last word.
“I’m afraid I was rather displeased with him when I reminded him of his duty and… well, he did not apologize. We had a disagreement. He ended up in rather poorer condition than when you last saw him.” He added a head shake, false regret oozing from him like stale sweat.
Thea managed to grasp one of the shades. She yanked it away from her mouth, sucking in air. “You’re saying I can save him?”
The king’s lips parted, and Thea wondered if the fact that she’d moved a shadow of her own volition shocked him. But he soon hid his consternation behind a mask of calm. “If you choose the offer to swear allegiance to me, I will order him taken from the cave and allow Prospect to heal him.”
“Can he truly do that?” she shot back, glaring at the Seer.
Erebus nodded. “He is a surprisingly effective healer when he is allowed to be. Prospect? A demonstration.”
The Seer came forward, stopping out of Thea’s reach. “My shadows sense you are injured.” The dark shapes swirled about her torso, causing a tingling in her ribs that made her gasp. When she took another full breath, her pain was gone. She glanced up at Prospect, surprised.
“You see I am telling the truth,” the king said. “Prospect will heal Damon. If you make the right choice.”
The idea of letting Damon die coiled through Thea like a poisonous snake, leaving her cold. “I want Damon healed immediately, here where I can see him.”
Triumph flashed in Erebus’s eyes. He clapped his hands as he stood. “I am delighted you have chosen to vow allegiance to me. Damon will be relieved as well.”
Thea looked at him in disbelief, disgusted that he could speak so lightly of his son’s pain. “You’d really let your son die?”
“Many of my children have died,” he replied, one brow raised as if confused by her outburst. “Only one is meant to survive, and perhaps Damon is not the one.”
“You filthy pile of wolf dung—” she spat before the shadows silenced her.
Erebus shook his head. “A slow learner. But you will learn.”
Thea wondered what torments were in store for her because of this one choice.
And whether even she, as strong as she was, could bear it.