14. Chapter 14
14
Zara
W hen I woke, my body still lay perpendicular across my bed, face smeared into the sheets as it had been last night. When I lifted my head, my cheek peeled away from the covers. I felt rested but groggy, like I had slept a lot longer than I’d intended.
The only light came from a thin blueish line under the door. The candle had long since burned out, leaving my room full of shadows. I relit the candle with a match and sat quietly in the single chair in my room, staring at the floor for what felt like an hour. There was no timepiece in here, but the line of light below my door grew brighter.
My stomach growled, but I was not going to leave this room—not until they forced me to. Better to be trapped in here than be accosted again by a fae with nefarious intentions.
Boredom overcame my first wave of hunger, and I spent a few minutes stretching, then a few more minutes miming a knife fight with my hands, which morphed into a few quick steps of a dance as the moves came to me. Flamenco dancing was my favorite form of storytelling, and I’d once dreamed of having my own stage at the Festival de los Cuentos , dancing the stories that filled my mind as costumed crowds looked on.
My uplifted arms fell limply to my sides as I faced the armoire, a tall, exquisite piece inlaid with bronze stars and capped with a carved, bronze lion that stared down at me mid-roar. When I opened the wardrobe, I gasped. Dresses bursting with color and ruffles sent a spike of joy through my chest. But that feeling was quickly quashed as I realized someone in this court had likely ordered these clothes placed here specifically to create this very response in me. I hated that it had worked—that I’d been excited even for a split second.
I didn’t want to remain in the dress I’d worn here, and I had no other clothing to choose from, so with a resigned sigh, I reached for the prettiest dress, an emerald gown, sleek and shiny, sewn jewels that might have been real diamonds along the waistline. Every dress in this armoire was fit for a royal ball.
But the dress wouldn’t unfasten from its peg, as if it was glued in place. To my horror, a bright fuchsia dress made of shining silk stretched out toward my hand. I screamed and leaped backward. The dress rippled, and I almost thought I heard a rustle of annoyance. I stepped away, my heart beating madly. But the fuchsia dress stretched away from the wardrobe, the bottom ruffles brushing against my legs as I took another step. The dress shook in an angry little fit when I was too far for it to reach. My head turned slowly back and forth in dismay.
I reached into the wardrobe again for the green dress, but the draping sleeve of the fuchsia dress slapped my hand away with more force than I would have expected from a piece of fabric. I snorted, almost amused.
One hand on my hip, I lifted my other toward the fuchsia dress. It enveloped my hand in soft, silky ruffles, and the susurrations of the fabric reminded me of a purr. I rolled my eyes and slipped the fuchsia dress off its hook. I took one look at it and realized I wouldn’t be able to get into this dress on my own.
A knock at my bedroom door startled me, and I clutched the dress against me, ducking behind the large bed.
“Don’t come in!” I shouted.
“It’s me. Ariana. You are required in the training grounds.”
“Training grounds?” I repeated aloud, lifting a brow at the fuchsia dress. I laid the ballgown over the bed and walked toward the door. There was no peephole, so I carefully slid the lock out and cracked the door. Behind it stood a white-clad Ariana, her hair back in a tight braid and her eyes downcast. As soon as the door opened, she glanced up at me.
“May I come in?” she asked politely, hands clasped in front of her waist. I scanned the hall. There was no one else nearby. I stepped aside and let her walk into my room. I shut the door behind her, and she spun to face me with an apologetic expression. “Today you’ll start your training.”
“Training? For what? Aren’t they trying to kill me?”
Her expression sank, but only mildly. “They want you to put up a good fight. And if you don’t know how to fight, then, well, you can’t do much fighting.” She had the decency to avert her eyes, and a slight flush colored her cheeks.
I scratched my face, unsure how to respond. “I think that dress wants me to wear it.”
She pinned her gaze on the fuchsia dress on the bed. “Oh, yes. The dresses here have mighty strong opinions."
Minutes of silence passed as Ariana helped me into the dress. I desperately wanted to find something to talk about that wasn’t death and wasn’t this awful place. She’d said she didn’t want to be my friend because I was destined to die, but I wasn’t resigned to that fate.
“My best friend married a fae last month,” I said, trying to make conversation. Ariana spluttered in shock.
That clearly hadn’t been the right thing to say.
“She did it to save her family,” I added, staring at my feet to avoid Ariana’s sharp stare. “I don’t think he was from this court. He bred race horses, and I can’t really imagine a stable or a race track in this place.”
Ariana snorted. “And did you save your family by coming here?”
My mouth hung open a moment before I answered. “My father was the one who made the bargain. Years ago.”
Ariana’s eyes widened, but she remained silent.
By the time she finished securing the bright dress, I wasn’t sure if she was going to add anything else to the conversation, except to give me some marching orders. But when she stepped back to examine me, she tapped a knuckle against her lips, as if contemplating saying something she’d rather not mention.
This dress had a square neckline, soft ruffles that draped over the tops of my arms, and a loose, gauzy skirt so featherlight I worried that my legs were visible through the thin fabric.
Finally, Ariana dropped her hands to her sides and said quickly, “The whole court was talking about a fae horse breeder recently. I believe he was important to one of the other courts.”
As I spun in the small room, I locked eyes with her. “Really?”
“I don’t know anything else,” she snapped.
Excited at the prospect of finding someone here who did know more about Talia, I fussed with my dress sleeves and muttered to myself, “I need a mirror.”
Ariana rolled her eyes and shuffled toward the door at the same moment an ornate, full-length mirror blinked into existence on the front of the ornate armoire.
“Well, that was easy,” I muttered, examining my reflection. Other than the abrasive shade of pink, the dress had its merits. It wasn’t nearly as tight as the outfit I’d worn through these halls last night. It didn’t follow any of the fashion trends I’d ever seen, but it fit perfectly—a fact I tried not to dwell on—and allowed my legs ample room to run, should the need arise.
I was halfway pleased that this dress had picked itself for my training today, but Ariana’s scowl told me she shared none of my happy sentiments.
“Why are you in the Shadow Court?” I asked, my eyes flicking to her wrist cuff despite my efforts not to look at it.
“Follow me,” Ariana barked as she disappeared back into the hall.
I wasn’t ready to admit it to her, but I desperately needed a friend, someone I could trust not to die on me during the next few months. A small weight settled in my already heavy heart, reminding me of the true nature of my predicament.
I hurried after her, wishing I’d had time to deal with my unruly curls. Bright sunlight shone on the mountains beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows outside my door. I stopped, staring at the black and white peaks. The land rose toward the heavens with such grandeur and ferocity. I’d never seen mountains like these. They stretched on endlessly in both directions, though I knew Avencia had no mountain range this large. Besides, our tallest peaks were not rocky or snow-capped. I placed my hands on the window and peered down at a waterfall gushing out of the rock beneath my feet. For a moment, the thunderous sound of the water drowned out the nervous beat of my heart.
The cool air of the stone-vaulted halls pricked against the skin on my neck and arms. Sunlight beat against the opposite mountainside, but it didn’t touch the Shadow Court’s castle.
“Do you know how to use weapons?” Ariana asked, her voice a mix of nerves and annoyance.
“A blade and a bow.”
“Oh, they’ll enjoy that.”
“And will you?” The words spilled out before I realized that it was a foolish thing to ask.
Her face fell, and she stiffened. “Last night, I had hoped you were here due to some brave bargain you made yourself, like your friend you mentioned. But cursed children are unnatural, born of magic. While I don’t enjoy watching anyone die, you were never meant to live.” Leaving me with my mouth hanging open, she spun on her heel and marched down the hall.
I stood by the windows for a solid minute, until my breathing slowed. This woman believed I wasn’t supposed to be alive . I would show her how very alive I intended to stay.
Malik had warned me that the humans here were pitted against each other by the fae. How fitting, considering how much they hated our kind. But I wouldn’t let the fae win, not in this battle either. I wouldn’t give up on Ariana. Her fate was worse than mine, and she knew it. Enslavement to the fae was worse than death.
A shudder rocked my shoulders, and I rolled my neck, remembering the tune recited to us as children, warning us to stay close to home at night, to never wander into the woods or talk to strangers. If you think them kind or a good place to hide, you’ll die alone in the dark.
Maldita or not, I wouldn’t die alone in this dark prison. Ariana’s words about finding a solution bit at my composure as I walked through the underground palace. But the possibilities of where to start, what to look for, and how to go about it were so vast that I nearly lost myself to a wave of panic. Chiding myself, I settled on where to start: Talia. I would search out information on my friend first because it felt less daunting than finding ways to survive deadly, unknown tasks crafted by a hateful, conniving fae prince in a court of wicked immortals.
I didn’t see anyone in the halls until I reached the cavern where we’d had dinner last night. As I hurried toward the huge doors, I considered all the things I was passionate about. I wondered if Casimiro knew of them, and if he did, how he would try to rip these passions from my chest and smother them. He’d tried with dance. He’d failed.
I adored parties, but I wasn’t sure if that counted as something that could kill me. I missed my friends, especially Talia, who’d also been whisked away by the fae. Now that I, too, was in the fae realm, I would determine where she was and how she was faring in her hasty marriage to that horse breeder.
The massive doors to the cavern swung open as I neared. Several stone tables inside were loaded with stacks of baked treats that smelled of cinnamon and sugar. My hunger flared and immediately died as I recalled eating pastries like these with Talia at the Festival de los Cuentos only weeks ago.
There had to be a way to gather more news about her. After the training session, I’d find someone who knew about the fae she married.
The cavern was much brighter as white-clad servants bustled around cleaning up from the night before. A few fae lay stretched out across the stone tables, apparently asleep. Others lined the floor in embraces that I didn’t want to see. The cages above the tables had vanished entirely.
I saw a servant sweeping up the cavern. “Where’s the training session?” The man lifted a finger toward one of the corridors leading from the giant cavern. I raced toward it. I didn’t want to know what the fae did to mortals who arrived late to their little torture festivals.
Remnants of last night’s food still covered the tables, but almost as much was scattered across the floor. One of the chocolate fountains had been knocked over, and there were puddles of dark liquid shining on the stone floor. Heathens .
I scurried down a wide hallway with an uneven rocky ceiling and quickly arrived at a heavy door. It had a small half-circle window filled with bright sunlight reflecting off the opposite peak. This side of the mountain was still in shadow, and the mountain air bit at my skin as I raced down wide stone steps bracketed with ornate balustrades carved to look like flowing water. Below sprawled an open sandy space half-surrounded by curving benches stretching up the mountainside.
Naturally, I was the last to arrive. The same five people I’d met at dinner last night watched me thunder ungracefully down the steps and hustle, skirts in hand, across the sandy space. The other mortals had clearly been given attire to match their passions as well. Samuel was dressed as a horse—an actual horse, with a long mask and a strange collar that had a mane attached at the back. Ivy wore a bright red dress as shiny as a strawberry after a late spring rain. The dress had little black dots on it as well, and I wondered if she had a beloved garden somewhere back in the mortal lands. She smiled at me, and I whirled to face the two fae who stood in front of our little class. I coughed, recognizing the long-haired, brown-skinned immortal I’d encountered outside my room the night before. The other fae was unfamiliar.
The man I recognized winked at me and cleared his throat. “For the benefit of our newest arrivals,” he flourished his hand first at Tomas, then at me, “I will say that we have mortal games the morning after a full moon, which means our next game arrives in six days.”
My throat closed up, and I could hardly breathe.
“Each training session will give you a small taste of what is to come. However, we’re not allowed to tell you what the trial will be.” He glanced at his friend, who snickered. “But we do want to make sure that you’re as prepared as you can be, because we want you to, well, die with flair,” he said, giving us a dramatic flick of his wrist. “And, so, we’ve designed these training sessions in a way that will enhance”—he made a grasping motion with his hand—“our experience of your death.”
My shoulders sagged, and I glanced at Ivy. Were they serious? A cool hand gripped my chin and jerked it forward. I hadn’t even heard the fae approach. The dark-haired one stared down at me, his eyes as sharp as knives. “You will listen, mortal, or I will visit you again tonight, and I’ll bring my friend Viro here.” I swallowed, picturing a knife and where I’d stick it.
He dropped my chin and stepped backward.
“Thank you, Erik,” the other fae, Viro, said. He had a long blond braid spiked through with what looked like dragon talons, and he took up the speech as though Erik had taken care of some bothersome child.
“It would serve you well in the coming trial if you were, let’s say, fast,” the blond fae continued. “So today we have designed the training to help you gain as much speed as you can.” His voice was strong and harsh, and it reminded me of a pumice stone scratching across my skin.
I glanced at the people beside me, ready for someone to tell me that this was a joke. Who could actually get faster in a week? If anything, if we sprinted every day, we would only be sore and tired and thus slower on the day of the trial—was that their game? But every face staring ahead looked deadly serious. The berry-red Ivy was wringing her hands, and Eudoria shot me an inscrutable look that might have been hatred or desperation. She wore a dress entirely composed of piano keys that clinked together at the smallest movement.
No one protested. No one said anything at all.
“Won’t running make us sore and tired come the day of the trial?” I blurted out.
Erik crossed his arms. “Not if you accept our help,” he said, lifting a hand to examine his fingernails. “We are nothing but gracious hosts to those who bring us the entertainment we crave. You may have anything at all that you desire, including elixirs to ease sore muscles. You need only ask.” He flashed me a wicked smile.
I sneered back at him.
Viro added, “We will leave you here for a little while, and when we return, we hope that you are all a little bit faster than you were when you woke up this morning.” His words took on a sinister air. “We’ll be watching from up there.” He pointed to the stands.
When I glanced up, I noticed several others had gathered to watch us. “You really have nothing better to do than to watch us run around in circles?”
“Oh.” His lips curled as he smiled at me. “This is so much more than running around in circles. Enjoy.” He and the other fae pranced off toward the stands.
Instantly, everyone around me tensed and tossed nervous glances at the entrances to the arena floor set into the mountainside beneath the stands. I hadn’t noticed these gated tunnels until now, and I couldn’t shake the memory of the creatures from the cages in the dining cavern. My flamenco shoes were useless in this deep sand, so I kicked them off. Ivy followed suit, but the rest decided to keep their shoes on. This little bowl in the mountainside seemed mostly protected from the frigid breeze that blasted the stone stairs above. A flag emblazoned with a half-moon sigil on a purple background snapped angrily in the wind high above the sand.
Ivy sidled up to me, her small frame taller and thinner than mine. Her shoulders were hunched and her arms clutched across her middle as she walked. She had curly brown hair like mine, but unlike mine, her curls kept their shape and bounced as she shuffled forward in the sand.
“These things only last until the sun hits the arena floor,” she said, shaking slightly as she watched the grates covering the tunnels. “Then the fae all burrow back into their mountain to hide from the light.”
They hide from the light . I tucked that information away beside everything else I’d learned about the Shadow fae.
Then one of the gates slid open with a slow grinding sound and I sucked in a breath.