Chapter 13 #2
Time and again the princess came to the cell, reading little bits of her folktale. On the third night, I glared at the doorway as an earth fae warrior—one I did not recognize—stepped inside. “There’ll be a trial on the morrow, Bloodsinger. For you and the other boy.”
My pulse quickened. “You haven’t killed him yet, huh?”
For a fleeting moment, the warrior looked weary. Like the notion of it ached. “Not yet, boy. Prepare to face the kings and queens of the lands. You fought against us, but it does not need to continue. Think on it, Bloodsinger.”
Then, he was gone.
The clank and click of the bolts and levers of the cell door echoed for another breath before the silence of the cell cloaked my shoulders in a chilled embrace.
Tait was alive. I did not allow myself to think long on the rush of relief in my veins. Like a piece of my wondering had kept breath in my lungs for too long and now that I knew the truth about my cousin’s fate, I could breathe at last.
Not that it mattered. Trials, he said. I was to face every damn royal.
I’d face the earth bender.
No mistake, he’d want me to fade as fiercely as he wanted to slaughter Thorvald all those turns ago.
“Bloodsinger.”
My pathetic heart quickened at the sound of her voice. Much like the last two nights, the princess’s face peered at me through the iron bars.
I waited a moment, another, then slowly stepped out of the eerie shadows into the moonlight. Gods, why did she look so damn pleased to see me?
“Trials come with the sun,” I repeated the news from the warrior. “Better leave, little princess.”
Don’t go.
I was a piss-poor excuse for an Ever King.
“But I have something for you, and I’ve got to finish the story.” From a pouch over her shoulder, the princess took out the leather book from which she’d been reading. “Want to hear the end?”
In truth, I did not want the night to be over. I did not want to face what came at dawn. I did not want to bid farewell to the earth bender’s heir. Because I hated her, plotted against her, or because I enjoyed her, I didn’t know. Didn’t want to know.
After a drawn pause, I sat on the cold floor, and made a gesture for her to go on with her little tale.
Her sea-blue eyes brightened. The girl thumbed through the yellowed parchment pages and took up where she’d left off the night before. The moments when a songbird dared speak to the great snake of the sea.
The story went on, the songbird and serpent conversing.
The cadence of the tale seemed different.
In truth, the ending of the tale had taken a strange turn altogether.
I’d been anticipating a rather violent end to either the serpent or the bird.
It was common in most folktales for tragic ends to be had.
In this tale, the serpent and songbird…stopped fearing, stopped hating. I arched one brow. It was all horridly unrealistic.
Until I took note how the little princess kept glancing at me after she’d read a line, as though inspecting whether I was listening or not.
She’d smile when she seemed to determine I was attentive enough.
She changed her tone, emphasized specific, friendlier words, as though desiring to drive the point of them straight into my skull.
Bleeding hells, she’d altered her tale.
“‘They played from sunup to sundown and lived happily ever after,’” the princess finished with a bright grin.
Ah, she thought she was rather clever. I leaned back onto my palms, extending my cramped legs. “Is that what we are, princess? A serpent and a songbird?”
“I think so, and they were still friends,” she said, a slight tremble to her voice. “That’s why tomorrow at the trials you can, well, you can say we won’t fight no more. My folk will let you stay.”
Did she want me to stay? I did not know what to say to all that.
When silence dragged too long, the princess reached into her satchel again and returned her hand with a bit of twine. She shoved her fist through the bars and let the twine fall. Something hard clinked on the stone.
In slow movements, I went to where her gift had dropped and lifted it in front of my face. A necklace of sorts, one a little childish, but on the end was a silver charm. A bird unlike any we had in the Ever, but a sort that must’ve lived in the earth realms.
I studied the wings, the split tailfeathers. My thumb traced the edges.
“Tomorrow I’ll be sent away, or I’ll greet the gods, Songbird.” I lifted my gaze. “That’s what happens when you lose a war. There’s no stopping it.”
The princess held my stare, her top teeth dug into her bottom lip, like she might want to say more but did not know how to find the words.
After a long moment, she returned her hand to the leather pouch.
My stomach cinched when I caught sight of the smooth, gold disc in her palm. By the gods, I’d not seen that since I was nothing but a whimpering boy, watching the Ever King fall beneath the blade of an earth fae axe.
A strange, twisted sort of hunger gripped me from behind. The violent need to take it blotted out my thoughts until all I could see was that mantle of Thorvald in my control.
But to take it now, I’d need to kill my little songbird. She held the power in her hands, so she would need to be conquered.
The princess cleared her throat. “I know this is important to your folk. Thought maybe you’d want to see it once more.”
I curled my fingers around the bars. This close, I could make out the hint of fear beneath those brilliant sea eyes of the earth fae princess.
Ten turns. It was all I needed to hope that I did not greet the gods on the morrow, for now I knew my true power still existed. I could claim it in another ten bleeding turns. A glimmer of violent hope took hold in my chest.
“Will you do something for me, Songbird?”
“What?” Her voice was soft, almost breathless.
I used my chin to gesture at Thorvald’s mantle. “That was a gift from my father. Watch over it for me, will you? I’ll come back to get it one day, and you can tell me more stories. Promise?”
The princess swallowed, eyes wide. “Promise.”
The thud of heavy boots caused the girl to jolt in surprise. She’d been here too long, longer than the previous nights.
I backed away from the bars, a cruel sort of grin written on my mouth, and held up the silver bird charm. A signal to the unwritten vow we’d just made to each other.
When the princess sped off, I let out a rough chuckle.
Hurry on, Songbird. I’ll see you again one day. Don’t hate me too fiercely when I kill your daj.
I slept through the night with such damn arrogance.
If I’d known the earth bender would offer me a place among his folk, with my new little songbird, I might’ve prepared better. In my stun, all I could conjure were sharp words and bitter threats.
No mistake, those same threats caused the earth fae to seal off the Chasm. I couldn’t get through.
I couldn’t return. All my damn plans were ruined.
I couldn’t claim the mantle, the true power of the Ever. For the rest of my dreary days, I’d be forced to face my kingdom, defeated, weaker, with no hope of a brighter tomorrow for the seas of the Ever.