CHAPTER 29
Frankie
I stay close to Zarreth as we follow the guards through the castle, my eyes darting over every surface.
The walls rise like sheets of living crystal, catching the sunlight and casting a light wash of color over the floor.
It feels like we’re stepping through the inside of a prism instead of a hallway.
Silver vines climb the crystal columns, their buds glowing faintly like they’re holding bits of starlight.
Jess turns in slow circles as we walk, afraid to miss a single detail. “Holy shit…this is fucking cool.” Her voice echoes, clear and sharp against the walls, and I can’t help but grin.
The guards, however, don’t seem as amused. One glances back, a cold expression glued to his face. “Restraint is expected in the Queen’s halls.”
Graven huffs. “Yeah, good luck with that.”
Jess shoots him a glare, but he doesn’t bother looking her way. I honestly don’t know how those two can stand to be near each other when all they do is fight.
“Don’t worry about the glitter guards,” Brynn quips. “They’re just jealous you actually have a personality.”
One of them stiffens, but keeps his gaze fixed ahead as we approach a set of towering crystal doors. Another set of guards stand at perfect attention on either side, spears angled upright. Our escorts nod at them and disappear down the corridor.
“Thanks for the tour,” Brynn hollers after them. “You’re a real ray of sunshine.”
Faint voices come from behind the doors, but I can’t make out the words.
When the door parts, a little round-bellied fae with translucent wings waddles out.
He’s muttering to himself, eyebrows drawn into a scowl.
“…outrageous…absolutely outrageous…how’s a respectable pixie supposed to keep to a three-petal ration?
Three petals a week! The Queen’s never tried to brew tea for seven cousins on three petals… ”
He nearly bumps into Zarreth’s arm, squawks in surprise, and flutters sideways, still grumbling. “…unfair…positively tyrannical…three petals…”
Jess snorts a laugh while I quickly bite my lip, holding mine in. Even Zarreth’s mouth twitches. One of the guards clears his throat and gestures us forward.
The chamber is huge and full of light. The floor is made of polished crystal with veins of gold running through it.
Columns of rose quartz climb to the ceiling, reflecting the light and sending it into little rainbows across the court.
The air smells faintly of something bright and green, like the first rain after a long, cold winter.
Dozens of fae fill the sides of the chamber.
Some are tall and slender with bright silver hair; while others are smaller than children, with wings glinting in the glow.
Conversations falter as we enter. Their eyes land on us, first Jess and me, then Zarreth and Graven.
The shift in the room is instant as wariness seeps in.
A few of the smaller fae actually step back, wings drawn close to their backs.
The guards at the edges of the dais tighten their grips on their spears.
At the far end, a throne carved from luminous white stone rises from the dais, its gold trim shining brightly. A waterfall of light spills down the wall behind it, making the throne seem haloed.
The Queen sits there in a gown that seems to be made of light. Silver-and-gold hair drapes over her shoulders, and her eyes catch the light with a faint glow. She’s absolutely striking.
A smaller throne rests at her side with pale flowers arranged across its seat. They look like daisies touched with a dusting of crystal.
Brynn steps forward and bows, voice even. “Your Majesty, we encountered travelers near the portal. One of them carries both light and dark.”
My nerves get the best of me as she studies us. I shift back and forth, starting to feel uncomfortable in my own skin. Is she going to say anything?
“Clear the hall,” she finally says. Her voice is soft, yet the words carry across the room.
Courtiers and petitioners scurry for the doors, leaving behind only the guards. When the chamber is still, her attention comes back to me. “So, Desfara stands in my hall at last.”
Zarreth’s wings twitch, a flicker of heat radiating off them as his hand finds the small of my back. The Queen’s gaze slides to him. “You may stand down, demon. My words are not a threat.”
He dips his chin, eyes burning like embers, but he doesn’t remove his hand.
Her eyes find mine once more. “Desfara,” she repeats. “The name of balance. The one who carries both light and dark.”
Desfara…the same thing Aradon called me before I took his life. “Most know me as the Realm Eater,” I manage, at last.
Her brows lift like she’s offended. “Lesser creatures may call it Realm Eater,” she replies. “We do not use the language of lesser creatures.” Her gaze slides past me to Zarreth and Graven, lingering on them long enough to prove her point.
“Here, in this court,” she continues, her tone level but edged with quiet authority, “you are known as Desfara.”
“How do you know what I am?”
A faint smile curves her lips. “I could feel your presence the moment you entered my court. Light bends toward you, and darkness follows. The scriptures of Theia named Desfara long before you were born.”
My stomach tightens. I hate talking about the prophecy. “Your Majesty, if I may be so blunt. We didn’t come here because of what I am. We came here because we need your help. We need a healer.”
Her attention drifts past me, settling on Jess. “She needs a healer,” she says, then turns her gaze back to me. “We need Desfara.”
Zarreth’s grip tightens, heat flickering through my side. “What do you mean need her?” His voice is low, but it carries that dangerous calm he uses when he’s ready to fight.
The Queen studies us. “The portal bridges light and dark. It stands to reason that such a fracture cannot be mended by either alone, but by the one who carries both.”
Heat is now rolling off my mate, but thankfully he’s keeping his flames to himself. “You’d risk her life on a theory?”
“On necessity,” she replies. “The Light Realm bleeds from the same wound that affects yours. If we do nothing, both will fall.”
I lay a hand on his chest, hoping to steady him. “Zarreth.”
His gaze snaps to mine, worried, ready to fight the entire court if he has to.
“I have to do this,” I say, holding his eyes with mine. “If there’s even a chance I can steady it, I have to try.” He shakes his head, but I push on. “Theia spoke to me…in the portal. It’s my fate.”
He goes still, something in my eyes settling him before turning to the Queen. “If she does this,” he says, his voice rough, “She does it on our terms.”
The Queen nods. “As long as those terms do not endanger my realm.” Her gaze shifts to the empty throne beside her. “There is something else…Princess Shayla is missing. The last traces of her magic are faint, and fading. I need someone who can feel what others miss.”
Her attention drifts to Graven and lingers on the marks along his arms. “The siphoner will help track her once your crisis is controlled.”