Chapter 6
Below, Luminael descends into the gloom of yet another twilight. I have seen too many nights in this city, yet it is mine to command. So, I cannot leave it.
Once a shining beacon of all that was good in the kingdom, the city now lies in a state of decay and despair. Even from this height, I can smell the stench of poverty and hopelessness wafting up from the slums.
It was not always this way. There was a time when Luminael was a place of beauty and enchantment, when fae of all kinds flocked to its gleaming spires and lush gardens. But that was long ago, before the world turned cold and cruel, before the darkness began to creep in.
A knock on the door interrupts my brooding thoughts. “Enter,” I call out, not bothering to turn around.
The door creaks open and I tighten my grip on my whisky glass.
“My lord . . .”
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “What is it, Finn?”
The jester has a habit of interrupting me when I most want to be alone. When he doesn’t answer, I turn around, allowing my large black wings to unfurl, understanding exactly how intimidating they are for a Shadowkind who has no magic and stunted wings.
Dipping his head low and bending his body into a bow, Finn mutters, “I bring news from the outskirts.”
I pace towards him. “News?”
Finn swallows hard, and looks up at me from beneath his mask. “There has been an incident, my lord. One of the forest villages was raided by the Gloomweavers. They... they took all of the fae.”
I frown. “An entire village?” Then I chuckle. “The Gloomweavers are getting brave.”
“My lord –”
I wave a dismissive hand. “The forest folk are nothing to me, and we need the Gloomweavers to keep trade moving in the city. The trade in lower born fae is something that has sustained us for generations.” I narrow my eyes, taking in the piercings on Finn’s wings that tell the story of his centuries-long servitude to my family.
“Yes, Lord Eldrion but –” he swallows forcefully and draws himself up. From beneath his dark mask, his eyes snag on mine and cause me to allow him to speak.
“My lord, it was Alana’s village. She was one of them.”
Her name hits me like a physical blow. Alana. I turn slowly to face Finn, my eyes blazing with a fury that makes him cower. “What did you say?”
“Alana, my lord,” he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. “She was among those taken.”
“Alana is with the Gloomweavers?”
Finn nods, steepling his fingers together and worrying his lower lip with his teeth. “I believe she will be traded at tomorrow’s market.”
Fury erupts like a volcano deep inside me. I fly at him, throw my hand around his throat and squeeze until he chokes out a stifled, “Lord Eldrion, please. I thought you’d want to know.”
Dropping him so hard he falls to the floor, I turn around and stride back to the window. “Get out,” I growl, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “Get out, now.”
Finn scurries from the room but I barely hear him go.
I pace the length of the throne room, my wings twitching. With a roar of frustration, I slam my fist against the window pane, sending cracks splintering across the glass.
The Gloomweavers can do what they will with the rest of the elementals. They can strip the forests bare, and the valleys, and the beaches. But Alana is mine.
She is mine, and I will do what I must to claim her.