Chapter Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Eight
Ithought I would depart for the human world immediately.
But Davien has been so busy that it’s been logistically untenable for that to happen.
He’s insisted that he will be the one to escort me when we return.
For that reason, neither Shaye nor Oren nor Giles nor Hol has been given permission to take me across the Fade, causing the delay.
Miraculously, I’m still doing fine in Midscape.
They ask me regularly how I’m feeling. But after I get a good night’s rest, the weariness from recapturing the High Court vanishes from my bones.
Food still has taste too. All this fascinates Vena.
She eats with me at almost every meal now, asking relentless questions about every single flavor.
Once, she even tried to test me by serving me food that was laced with an intense spice, much to my annoyance. I passed that test.
The current theory is that the ancient kings’ magic was in me for so long that a bit wore off on me.
It gives Davien unexpected hope that perhaps I could stay.
Vena tries to curb that, but to no avail.
Davien still seems to think that he’ll find a way to grant me the ability to live in Midscape with the power of ancient kings reigniting the old human magics hidden within me, though weakened from living in the Natural World.
Yet despite all this, I know the truth. I know what’s going to ultimately happen.
And I’ve been bracing myself for it every day.
My time here is becoming more torture than fantasy.
It is harder and harder to wake up next to him in the mornings, knowing that I will have to leave him.
Returning to the Natural World will be a kindness when it finally happens.
During the day, Davien is busy with the relentless parade of fae coming to try on the crown.
Each claim is more ridiculous than the last. Initially, I stand in the main hall as part of the audience, watching each man and woman come up to explain how they were somehow, tangentially, possibly related to the Aviness bloodline.
The tenuous relations are almost as ridiculous as their stories about how they were “lost to history” and “came to remember their calling.”
Davien listens dutifully—more patient than I could ever be—and then invites them up onto the dais with him.
The man or woman sits on the throne, and Davien lowers the crown onto the fae’s brow.
Time after time, it falls to the floor. Naturally, I quickly grow bored of watching this farce and begin to explore the castle.
I’m not going to wait around as he places the glass crown on every fae in the kingdom.
But distaste for their disrespect of the glass crown and all Davien suffered to finally gain it isn’t the sole reason that I begin to wander.
Something is haunting me, chasing me. It has been in my darkest dreams. It is a memory that fades with each passing day, as though it wants to be forgotten again. Part of me wants to forget. But the other part of me remembers that second of clarity I had during the fall.
That’s how I ended up back in the king’s chambers—the one place that is still how Boltov left it.
That’s how I ended up here, staring out the shattered window, heart pounding. Shaye found Boltov’s body later that night. He has crossed the Veil and gone into the Beyond. But the ghost of him remains. The memories he forced me to confront are seared in my mind.
I bite my thumbnail, worrying it with my teeth. I don’t want to remember. But I must. This night has haunted me for years and I am on the cusp of recalling something that feels so incredibly important. My back aches again as I stare out into the sky.
“Remember what?” I curse and storm away from the window. How can my memories become distorted like this? What happened that was so bad, my own mind refuses to allow me to recall the details? Why is this truth just out of my grasp?
I pace the room, frustration rising with every turn, until I end up punching one of the bookcases with a grunt. As I massage my stinging knuckles, my eyes turn up to the books. I run a finger over the spines, catching in an empty spot where a tome is missing.
On each of the spines, the symbol of Aviness is emblazoned: The eight-pointed star over the glass crown ringed in lilies. I run my finger lightly down the stretched leather, coming to a pause on the crown. Like this, the spears of the glass crown’s outline look almost like a mountain.
“No, it can’t be,” I breathe.
“What can’t be?” I jump and spin to see Davien. He approaches, hands behind his back. Even without the crown, he has the bearing of a king. His movements become more regal by the day.
“I…you’re done early,” I manage to say.
“I can’t stand to hear another person come into these hallowed halls and spew their half-truths and half-baked claims of legitimacy.
” He runs a hand through his hair as he stops beside me.
“I waited for years for the opportunity to assume that throne. I trained, and I struggled, and I fought for the chance to bring peace and prosperity to our people. To see these individuals come out of the woodwork now with no comprehension of what it is that they’re trying to—”
I rest a hand on his shoulder gently, stopping him before he can get too worked up. “You could always call off the search,” I remind him, “and rule as you were meant to.”
“Eventually, the Aviness heir would be found. Eventually, some son or daughter would learn of their bloodline and come to claim the throne. It is better to find them now, when I can teach them, when I hold the respect of the people and can give the throne graciously to ensure a smooth transition of power. I will find them no matter what it takes.”
I shake my head. “And that is why you are the king that they don’t deserve.”
“The bar was set fairly low when I assumed this position.”
“And whenever you leave, it will be set far higher.”
“What would I do without your encouragement?” He gives me a loving smile. Before I can answer, he says, “Now, what ‘can’t be’? And why have you come here?” Davien sniffs as if the air offends him. “It still reeks of usurpers.”
“I…” I run my fingers along the embossing on the volumes’ spines. I remember my mother’s book, its worn-away title and fraying binding. “When I fell with Boltov…I had a memory of that day.”
“What day?”
“The last time I fell,” I whisper.
“The day you and Helen fell off the roof?” Davien rests a palm between my shoulder blades, over the scar.
“Yes.” The word is gummy.
“What did you remember?”
“I thought I remembered flying,” I whisper. That idea has been what’s haunted me through these halls.
“I’m sure, to a child, falling from a great height must have felt like flying.”
“No, I—I think I actually flew. Clumsily. Not well. But…there’s no way Helen and I could’ve survived a fall from that height.
No way I should’ve been able to catch up to her.
” I continue staring at the bookshelf, at the spot where a volume is missing.
The pieces are falling into place, and I wish desperately I could ignore it.
I want so desperately to be ignorant to this.
“Ever since I came to Midscape, I’ve had these strange sensations of knowing, of belonging—”
“The ancient magic of kings.”
I give him a small glare in frustration.
He’s not taking me seriously. Then again, I did just talk about flying.
I haven’t been taking myself seriously for the past few days either, with thoughts like that.
But this damned bookshelf is forcing me out of my blissful ignorance.
These things can no longer be ignored. “It’s more than just that memory, though.
Like these books. The one that’s missing…
the book you used in the ritual that night came from here, didn’t it? ”
“I believe so.” He sighs softly. “That book was one of the few that ever made it out of the High Court.”
“What are these books?” I dare to ask.
“Long ago, there was a Court of Stars, seers of the fae. They recorded the destiny of every Aviness upon these pages, using an ancient magic that could be read only by the individual. Every book on this shelf represents an Aviness lost, recorded by a magic that the Boltovs stamped out.”
I swallow thickly. I’m wrong. I have to be wrong. This is insanity.
“Do you know how my father got that book?” Please have a simple, logical explanation, I silently beg.
He shakes his head. “No one in the Acolytes could figure out how the book made it to your father’s estate.
The last known person with Aviness blood escaped with it.
She took it and ran, disappearing into the night.
” I think of what Boltov said: the last true Aviness, the one who escaped my clutches.
“It took ages for Vena to track the tome down to your father. At least the book got as far away from Boltov as possible. I’m sure it would’ve been reclaimed or destroyed if it hadn’t.
I tried for years to get your father to sell it to me but he would always refuse. ”
What do I say? How can I explain this to him? Fear that Davien will see this secret I’ve kept as a great betrayal floods me. “That book…”
“It would’ve been impossible for you to know what it was as a human.
Don’t feel bad.” He has no idea why my skin has gone clammy.
“And your father was a merchant, so he must have come across it at some point in his dealings. How it made its way over the Fade is a mystery, but I’m sure the last of the Aviness bloodline was just trying to keep it safe before Boltov got his hands on her. Stranger things have happened and—”
“That book was my mother’s,” I interrupt. I’m unable to face Davien. Instead I stare at the place on the bookshelf where that tome should have been. I pantomime fitting a book into the slot, then my hand slides down the shelf to fall at my side.