Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
G lancing over my shoulder, I check once again to make sure that the pale ice corridor behind me is clear. But just as the other times I’ve snuck down here, the hallway outside the kennels is unguarded. I quickly close the final distance to the door.
In the week that it took for Draven’s wings to heal completely, he never left in the middle of the night to hunt the Red Hand. For obvious reasons. So I didn’t have any opportunities to sneak out and leave the information about the tunnel at the drop-off point. But even if he had given me an opportunity, I wouldn’t have left. Because… I don’t know. Maybe because I don’t like the thought of leaving him vulnerable.
Once his wings had stopped bleeding, he shifted into his fully human form and then just went about his duties as if nothing was wrong. He commanded his clan, conducted searches for the Red Hand down in the city, updated the Icehearts on his progress. And all the while, he showed no signs of weakness. Even I, who knew that he was in pain, could read none of that on his face.
But every day when we returned to his rooms, he let that blank mask slip. My heart still aches at the memory of how exhausted he looked then. So the moment we were hidden behind closed doors and he finally took off my collar, I spent the entire evening, and as far into the night as I could manage before passing out, using my magic to block out his pain.
Today was the first time he used the half-shift since the whipping. His wings had healed completely, and when he spread them wide, they once again looked as powerful and imposing as before. As if nothing had happened. But I know what happened. And I do not forget.
Stopping outside the door to the kennels, I slowly push the handle down and edge the door open the tiniest of cracks. There have never been any guards inside the kennels before, but I still need to make sure. I sweep my gaze over the large room inside. But no guards leap out of the shadows. Only an empty floor and the cages cast in murky darkness by the walls await me in there.
I slip inside.
It took me this entire week to decide if I was even going to do this. An overwhelming sense of guilt would crash over me every time I thought about sneaking down to the drop-off point and sharing my information about the tunnel with the human resistance. Because when they pull off the heist, Draven will no doubt be punished for it. And I don’t want them to hurt him. But at the same time, can I really stop our entire rebellion?
In the end, I built as many stone walls around my heart as possible and decided that I couldn’t justify abandoning my mission to free my entire court, even if it means that Draven will be punished. We have suffered for too long in the Seelie Court. It needs to stop.
So after dropping off the information about the tunnel entrance, I decided to head over to the kennels to update Isera, Lavendera, and Alistair on what’s going on. And because I need their help with something.
A soft click comes from the door as I close it gently behind me. While sneaking deeper into the room, I glance towards Lavendera.
Except she’s not there.
Trailing to a halt, I blink at her empty cage in stunned surprise.
Then I remember what I overheard down in the city. That the Icehearts burned their own homeland. That must be why they took Lavendera. Goddess above, I wonder what they’re doing to her.
Dread washes through me as horrifying images flash through my mind about the torture they are likely subjecting her to in order to break her and force her to use her tree magic for their benefit.
Squeezing my hand into a fist, I straighten my spine as steely determination pulses through me. Giving the humans the information about the tunnel was the right move. We need to pull off this heist and then get out of here. No more delaying and handwringing. I need to get Lavendera, Isera, and Alistair out of here as soon as possible.
A faint sound drifts through the room. Now that I’m standing completely still, I can hear it clearly. Tearing my gaze from Lavendera’s empty cage, I hurry the final distance across the floor to where Isera and Alistair are imprisoned.
Two figures are visible there in the murky darkness of their cages.
But the moment I can see them clearly, I stop dead in my tracks.
My mouth drops open as I realize what that sound is.
Alistair is crying.
He is on his hands and knees in the middle of the cage, with his head bowed forward and his fingers clenched into fists against the pale ice floor. His lean muscular body trembles and convulses as desperate sobs rip from his throat.
For a few seconds, all I can do is to stand there, frozen on the floor, and stare at him in utter shock.
Alistair Geller, the biggest bully in the entire Seelie Court and the man who threatened to kill us all in the Atonement Trials if we got in his way, is bawling his eyes out.
I can’t process the concept. I thought I was the only one who broke down and cried like this.
“Do you have a plan?”
A jolt shoots through me, snapping me out of my stunned stupor, and I flick my gaze towards the sound of the commanding voice.
Isera is seated at the back of her cage. Just like last time, she has a blanket draped over her shoulders and back so that it protects her half-naked body from the iron bars that she is leaning back against. But other than that, nothing else about her is the same.
That blank and vacant expression is gone from her face. In its place is something that sends a chill down my spine.
During the Atonement Trials, Isera was always a no-nonsense kind of person. She never let people walk all over her and she didn’t care about anyone’s opinion. People called her ice lady for a reason. But there was still a sense of warmth beneath that cool exterior. A sense that she wasn’t actually as cold-hearted as she pretended to be.
But now…
My breath catches as I stare at Isera.
There is nothing, no warmth, no compassion, no sense of a caring soul, on her face. Her silver and blue eyes are as cold as the space between the stars, and her expression is one of merciless vengeance and ruthless fury. She doesn’t even look fae anymore. She looks like a bloodthirsty goddess who has risen from the freezing pits of another world, come to claim her revenge on this land.
And it fucking terrifies me.
“Well?” she demands, her cold eyes locked on me. “Do you have a plan or not?”
“I… Yes.” I stare at her, still trying to process this change in her. Then I tentatively ask, “Your claustrophobia? How?—”
“As long as the walls aren’t solid and I can see out, I’m fine.” She gives me a pointed look and once again demands, “The plan?”
“It’s… uhm…” I cast an uncertain glance at Alistair, who is still bawling his eyes out. “Shouldn’t we…?”
Making a decision, I turn away from Isera and instead drop to my knees in front of Alistair’s cage. We might not be friends, but I hate seeing him like this.
“Alistair,” I begin, my voice gentle.
Isera clicks her tongue in annoyance. I ignore her.
Alistair sucks in a ragged breath and gasps out, “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
“There is nothing you can do,” Isera interjects before I can reply. “I did try to help him through it earlier.” That cool expression remains on her face as she slides her gaze to me. “In case you were wondering.” She shrugs. “But his emotions are fried after weeks of their psychological torture. It’s all bubbling over. And there is nothing you can do to help him.”
I cut her a hard stare and yank the top of my cloak away from my throat, showing her that I’m not wearing a collar. Her eyes widen in shock. It’s the first emotion I’ve seen that cracks through that icy fury on her face. Even if it’s just for a moment.
“I told you I have a plan,” I say before shifting my gaze back to Alistair. “Tell me what you’re feeling. Is it pain? Fear?”
Alistair gasps in something like a sob, his body still shaking uncontrollably. “Hopelessness.”
Calling up my magic, I immediately shove it straight at the black flame of despair in his chest.
It’s so massive that I actually gasp. While yanking up my mental wall to separate his feelings from mine, I begin steadily decreasing that black flame.
A sense of stunned realization pulses through me while I work.
Back in the Seelie Court, I always assumed that Alistair didn’t really have a lot of emotions. But when I latched on to the rage in his chest during the Atonement Trials, I found it so strong that it shocked me to my core. And now, his despair is a raging inferno.
As I study Alistair’s shaking body, I realize that my first impression of him was completely wrong. Alistair isn’t the emotionless person I assumed he was. It’s the exact opposite. I’m starting to think that maybe Alistair feels too much. That he actually feels emotions deeper than everyone else.
Alistair at last drags in a deep breath as I force his despair down into the tiniest of sparks. But he remains on his hands and knees like that for a little while longer, drawing air back into his lungs. His body finally stops trembling.
I sweep my gaze over him.
Just like Isera, he is also still half-naked.
My gaze widens as I stare at his bare back. When I was here last time, I noticed that he had burn scars all over his chest and stomach. And now that I can clearly see his back for the first time, I realize that there are burn scars all over his back too.
A cold hand wraps around my heart. Where did all these scars come from?
At long last, he raises his head and takes his hands off the floor so that he is sitting upright on his knees instead. Surprise pulses in his orange and green eyes when he sees my glowing eyes, and he flicks a quick look down at my throat before meeting my gaze again. He draws in an unsteady breath.
“Thank you,” he says, his voice brimming with sincerity.
I give him a slow nod in acknowledgement and then carefully begin releasing my magic. I’m worried that the hopelessness will flare up again as soon as I stop manipulating it. But to my relief, it doesn’t. Apparently, just breaking the spiral of despair like that allowed Alistair to get his emotions back under control.
My eyes stop glowing as I release my magic completely.
For a few seconds, only the faint hissing of the torch by the wall behind me breaks the silence. Then Isera lets out something that almost sounds like an amused breath.
“Well, aren’t you full of surprises,” she says.
I shift my gaze to her. “I told you that I would get you out of here. And I meant it.”
Both of them listen intently while I fill them in on my discoveries and plans for the heist and our escape. A tiny glimmer of hope returns to Alistair’s eyes with every word I speak while a cold smile full of ruthless anticipation spreads across Isera’s mouth.
“The only thing we still need is information about the layout and guards inside the treasury,” I finish. “I can’t get there. But you can.”
“Are you forgetting that we’re still blindfolded every time we leave these cages?” Alistair points out.
“Not unless we pretend as if they have broken us,” Isera says, a scheming look on her face. Her eyes are sharp as she locks them on Alistair. “Can you handle that?”
“Can you ?” he shoots back.
“I would slaughter every single person in this castle, innocent or not, if it meant getting my revenge. I can handle it.”
Another chill runs down my spine, because I can tell that she means every word of that.
She shifts her cold determined gaze to me. “So yes, we’ll get the information for you.”
I give her a nod in acknowledgement. Then I turn back to Alistair. “Will you be okay?”
He clears his throat a bit self-consciously but nods. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
Picking up the thin blanket from the floor, he scoots backwards and drapes it over his shoulders before leaning back against the iron bars. A huff of bitter laughter escapes his chest, and he shakes his head.
“It’s just so fucking ironic,” he says. “I won the Atonement Trials to escape this exact sort of thing.”
I frown at him. “What do you mean?”
Resentment washes over his features for a second. Then he scoffs again before glancing between me and Isera. “Do you have any idea what it was like to grow up in our city with fire magic?”
I blink at him in surprise. I had always assumed that it was a great advantage. It’s a strong and dangerous physical element. Especially compared to my emotion magic.
Alistair lets out a harsh laugh, as if he could read all of that on my face. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“Just cut to the fucking chase,” Isera snaps. “What are you trying to say?”
“Don’t you get it?” He cuts a hard look at both of us. “Fire is their element. As soon as my friends, my family, my neighbors, every fucking fae in our court, found out that I had fire magic, they shunned me. After all, if I was born with the incredibly rare fire magic, it must mean that I secretly agree with the dragon shifters. Right?” He scoffs and shakes his head. “Or that I’m one of them.”
My heart patters in my chest as I stare at him.
“And how do you think the shifters from the Red Dragon Clan reacted when they found out that I could wield their element?” Alistair continues. “And for them, it’s not just their normal dragon fire. Their clan magic is lava magic, for fuck’s sake. It’s like having fire magic twice.” That searing rage bleeds into both his voice and his eyes. “So how do you think they reacted when they realized that a filthy fae could wield their sacred fire?” A cold humorless laugh rips from his chest. “They’ve been beating me up all my life. Always cornering me when there is an entire squad of them so that I won’t have any chance of winning. Beating me, humiliating me, trying to make me apologize for polluting their sacred element.”
Isera, who has just listened with that impassive mask on her face up until now, draws back a little while something almost like recognition or understanding flashes across her face. But she buries it quickly underneath that cold expression again.
My gaze flits down to the burn scars across Alistair’s chest and stomach, and pain spears through my heart. I meet his rage-filled eyes again. “Are they the ones who burned you?”
“This?” He motions down at the vicious burn scars across his skin, and a harsh laugh once again rips from his lungs. “No.” That fury in his eyes burns hotter as he leans forward a little. “This is the work of our own people.”
Horror washes through my veins. “What?”
“They were so desperate to prove to the dragon shifters that they were good people. That they were nothing like their wicked ancestors. That they were good little fae. That they were virtuous and self-sacrificing and that they prioritized the dragon shifters above themselves, above all fae, now.”
My heart pounds against my ribs.
“And they did it by sacrificing their own people in the name of goodness.” Disgust laces Alistair’s tone as he practically spits out that final word. “So they would hold me down and burn me with torches in front of the dragon shifters to show them what good people they were. To show them that they were on the dragon shifters’ side. That they would happily punish me to satisfy the dragon shifters.” He scoffs. “Punish me for simply the crime of being born with fire magic.”
Bile crawls up my throat. I feel like I’m going to throw up.
I have always seen our people as just… good. Even though they treated me like the plague for something that I had no control over, I have never thought of them as evil. The dragon shifters were the evil ones. They were the ones who were being cruel. And we, our entire court, were the good ones.
But apparently, the world is a lot more complicated than that. People are a lot more complicated than that.
Even when we are all facing the same outside cruelty, there are some who are willing to sell out their friends and neighbors just so that the people who hate us all will approve of them. Something between bitterness and amusement pulses through me. Maybe I’m not the only person in our court who has grown up with a desperate need to be liked.
“If you point them out, I could always just shove an ice shard through their throats,” Isera says.
The casual offer yanks me out of my bleak thoughts and pulls me back to the present.
Alistair lets out a surprised laugh as the two of us turn towards Isera. And based on the expression on her face, she was actually serious about that offer.
Some of the anger and tension bleeds out of Alistair’s body, and he lets out another small chuckle while giving Isera a nod. “I might actually take you up on that someday, ice lady.”
She just tips her head to the side in a half nod, acknowledging it.
An exhausted burst of laughter escapes my own throat. Adjusting my position, I scoot back so that I’m leaning my back against the cage opposite Alistair’s and then draw my knees up. While resting my elbows on my knees, I rake my fingers through my hair.
Everything inside me is just full of conflicting emotions.
After the visit to the mountainside, and the dragon battle I witnessed there, I’m no longer confident that we will actually be able to win a war against the dragon shifters on our own. And I feel guilty for helping the humans plot their heist and for bringing Frostfell to the brink of open rebellion, because now I know what the Icehearts will do to Draven if he fails. I’m still in shock over all the lies that I have been taught my whole life. I’m desperate to get Isera, Alistair, and Lavendera out of here. I feel guilty for using my magic to manipulate Kath and the other humans to trust me. And it breaks my heart that every shifter in this city hates me even though they don’t know me.
“How do you deal with it?”
It takes me a second to realize that the words came out of my own mouth.
Clearing my throat, I raise my head and let my hands drop from my hair as I meet Isera and Alistair’s eyes again. “How do you handle the fact that everyone hates us?”
“Not very gracefully, obviously,” Alistair replies with a shrug. But there is light in his eyes again now. “Since I’ve spent my entire life bullying people and making them feel small in retaliation for how they’ve been treating me.”
A surprised laugh erupts from my chest. There is a small smile on Alistair’s lips as he just lifts his toned shoulders in another unapologetic shrug.
But Isera’s voice is serious when she replies, “I have already told you this. Back inside that maze during the Atonement Trials. Remember?”
I shift my gaze to her and raise my eyebrows in silent question.
She sighs. “It doesn’t matter what you do, some people will always hate you. You could do everything they ask, give them everything you have, and it would still never be enough. They will still hate you. Either because of their own insecurities. Or because they have been taught to hate you.” Bitterness laces her tone as she adds, “Just like we have been taught to hate ourselves.”
Her words hit a spot deep inside. Like a dagger straight to the chest. Uncomfortable emotions twist inside me like snakes. Because deep down, I know that she’s right.
It’s impossible to be liked by everyone. There are always people who will hate you for one reason or another. Be it what your magic type is or what you look like or who your family is or what your job is or even something as ridiculous as what kind of food you prefer. Regardless of the reason, there will always be people out there who want to make others feel like shit just so that they can feel better about themselves.
Unfortunately, just shrugging off their hatred is easier said than done. At least for me.
“So how do you deal with it?” I ask, meeting Isera’s eyes.
Determination and an unshakable belief in herself seem to pulse from her entire being as she holds my gaze. “By reminding myself that I have nothing to prove.”
And because she says it with such confidence, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, I suddenly find myself smiling.
Yeah. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I need to stop apologizing for who I am and for what I do. Maybe it’s time to stop second-guessing myself. To stop trying to make everyone like me.
Back during the Atonement Trials, I self-righteously thought to myself that I was nothing like Alistair. That I didn’t have to do what he did in order to win. Now, I’m first of all beginning to realize that I didn’t even know Alistair at all. And secondly, I’m starting to think that being more like him isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Maybe I need to be more like them all.
More like Alistair.
More like Isera.
More like Draven.
Maybe it’s time that I start doing what they do. What everyone else in this messed up world of ours seems to be doing.
Take what I want and to hell with everyone else.