Chapter 6
Isla
Someone calls my name, making me stir from a deep sleep.
“Isla!” he calls again, waking me up fully this time.
It’s Master Roland.
I groan, rolling over on my mattress. Every muscle in my body aches. My head feels like it’s been stuffed with wool. When I finally returned last night, I stumbled into my tent and collapsed onto the mattress without even removing my costume. I didn’t so much as pull a blanket over myself.
I force my eyes open. Kakara’s cat, but it’s bright out already. How long did I sleep?
My heart lifts. I’m sure the tent master is here to inform me that I need to pack up. After the events of last night, I’m sure we’re leaving. I, for one, can’t wait to get away from this cursed court before—
“Come on, girl! We don’t have all day!”
I sit up slowly. My throat is dry. My eyes are still scratchy.
“Coming!” I call out, my voice hoarse.
I push myself to my feet and, after taking a deep breath, open the tent flap, pulling it aside. Master Roland is standing outside, his broad face flushed.
“There you are.” He beams at me. “Good to see you up and about. I’m glad that my pleas to have you released did not fall on deaf ears.”
I very much doubt he had anything to do with it, but I don’t tell him that.
I step out into the sunlight, squinting against the brightness. The camp is alive with activity. People moving between tents, hammering stakes, carrying supplies, or practicing like we often do.
They’re not packing up.
My stomach sinks.
I clear my throat. “I thought we would be leaving this morning. After everything that happened—”
“Leave?” He laughs, slapping his thigh. “Jessop’s tit, girl, why would we leave? You need to get yourself washed and dressed. Then get some food in that belly of yours.” He grins wider. "You need to start practicing for your performance tonight.”
I blink at him, certain I must have misheard. “Performance? Whatever do you mean?”
“That’s right.” He nods. “The show must go on, Isla. More than ever, in fact.”
I stare at him, feeling shocked and yet…I should have expected this.
“Master Roland, surely after what happened, it would be best to—?”
“Best to what?” His eyes narrow. “Best to waste the opportunity of a lifetime?”
My mouth goes dry. “Why would this be an opportunity? Staying is risky.”
“Isla, my dear girl.” He steps closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a great secret.
“The tickets for the next two nights’ shows were sold out within an hour of the sun rising.
It’s like the old days, girl. We’ve had to add an extra two performances to keep up with demand.
We might even need to add more. People are coming from all over the court just to see you.
The fair maiden with the beautiful voice. ”
No.
My pulse thumps. “Why would they want to see me?”
“Why would they not want to? Some are saying that you brought back a Lost King with your ethereal voice. That you broke an evil spell. They can’t wait to hear it for themselves.
To see you for themselves.” His grin is so wide it looks like his face might split.
“Turns out that what I thought was terrible luck, a disaster for the troupe, has turned out to be the biggest payday we’ve ever had! We must make the most of this.”
I can barely breathe. Every performance will be scrutinized.
They’ll figure it out. They’ll see through me.
“That’s wonderful,” I lie, forcing a smile.
“I knew you’d be pleased.” Master Roland claps his hands together.
“Now, get yourself cleaned up and fed. I want you practicing within the hour. We can’t afford any mistakes tonight.
Not with this many eyes on us.” His expression turns serious.
“You need to deliver, Isla. We can’t have them leave disappointed. It wouldn’t do at all.”
I nod. “Of course, Master. I won’t let you down.”
“That’s my girl.” He pats my shoulder once, then strides away, already shouting orders at someone across the camp.
Kakara help me.
What am I going to do now?
I duck back into my tent and grab the bucket I keep for washing. I fill it from the water barrels near the edge of camp, keeping my head down as I move.
I should flee, but the thought of trying to make it on my own out in the deadlands leaves me cold.
The water is cold when I pour it over my head, but I welcome the shock of it.
It clears some of the fog from my mind. I scrub my face, my neck, my arms, trying to wash away the memory of Captain Corvius’s shadows wrapping around me.
It was awful. I scrub some more, using ash to clean my teeth.
I’ll chew on some mint leaves after breakfast.
I hurry back to my tent and change into hose and a loose tunic that allows for movement. My fingers fumble with the laces.
I emerge from my tent and head toward the cook fires. The smell of porridge and bread drifts on the air. My stomach growls despite my anxiety.
I’ve barely made it halfway when someone calls me.
“Isla!” Lyre says as she rushes toward me. “Are you alright? We were worried sick.”
“I’m fine. They questioned me and then let me go. No harm done.”
“Kakara be thanked.” She touches her hand to her heart. Then she bites on her lip for a few moments. “Is it true?" She grabs my arm. “Did you really see him? The Shadowfae King?” she whispers the last.
“I—"
Before I can answer, Marcus appears on my other side. “The guards said there was a beam of light connecting you to him. Is that true?”
“I don’t k—"
“I heard his chest was glowing,” one of the acrobats says, joining the growing crowd. “And his eyes turned to amethysts right there in front of everyone.”
More performers gather around me. Everyone is talking at once. Asking questions. Demanding answers.
I hold up my hands. “Please, I don’t know what happened. I was doing my performance. I didn’t see anything. You know more than I do.”
“But you must have seen something,” Lyre presses.
“I was performing. Then there was pain, and heat, and…” I shake my head. “I almost fell. By the time I came to my senses, the guards were already dragging us both away.”
“What did they do to you?” Marcus asks, his eyes filled with concern.
“They questioned me. That’s all. Then they let me go.” I force another smile. “It was nothing. Just a misunderstanding. I had nothing to do with any of it.”
“A misunderstanding that will make us some good coin,” one of the strongmen says with a laugh. “We’re sold out for the next four nights!”
The group erupts in excited chatter about the extra performances, the increased pay, and all the attention.
“Isla, did you…?” Lyre starts to ask.
“Please excuse me. I need to eat. Master Roland wants me practicing soon, and I don’t want him angry,” I tell them. “The same goes for all of you.”
That gets their attention. No one wants to face the tent master’s wrath.
I take the opportunity to walk away, going as fast as I can without actually jogging. I sigh out of pure relief when no one follows me.
I reach the cook fires and find Bess stirring a pot. She looks up as I approach, her round face breaking into a smile.
“There she is.” She waves me over. “I was hoping you’d come by this morning. How are you feeling?”
“Tired,” I admit. “But I’ll manage.”
She gives me a look of concern as she fills a bowl for me. “Here you go. Eat up. You need your strength. I put a little extra honey in the porridge today.”
“Thank you. I’m starved.” I take the bowl and find a quiet spot away from the fire. I swallow a spoonful of food. The porridge is thick and sweet, flavored with not just honey but dried fruit, too.
I practically shovel the food into my mouth, it’s so good.
Bess sits down beside me with her own bowl. “So,” she says, touching her shoulder against mine. “What happened at the castle? You must have been so scared.”
I swallow my mouthful of porridge. “They threw me in a cell. Then they questioned me. But they let me go when they realized I had nothing to do with…with whatever it was that happened.”
“Did you see him…the fae?” She leans in, lowering her voice.
“Which fae?” I ask, even though I know exactly who she means.
“The one with the marking. The one they say might be the Shadowfae King.”
I nod slowly. “I saw him twice. Once outside the tent, when they were dragging us to the castle, and then once down in the dungeons.”
“And?” Her eyes are wide. “Did he look like the king?”
I shrug, stirring my porridge. “I’ve never seen the king, so I can’t be sure.”
“But the marking…” she presses. “Did you see that? And his eyes? I heard they were amethyst, just like King Sebastian’s eyes.”
“It does sound like the descriptions,” I admit, nodding. “But I don’t know much about the Lost Kings, so I can’t say for sure.”
“They are saying that he looked completely different before the light thing happened. They say that he was blind. His eyes milky white.”
I gasp. “Really?”
“Yes.” She nods. “His hair was brown. He looked human and not nearly as tall or as muscular. He worked as a clerk.”
“That is interesting.” My eyes widen. “It sounds unbelievable, to say the least.”
Bess nods. “I know.” Then her expression turns grave. “I heard something else this morning, from one of the castle guards.”
I look up at her. “What would that be?”
“He said that Queen Snow is on her way here as we speak.”
My blood runs cold. “What? The queen is coming all the way here?” Everyone knows that Queen Snow prefers the Ice Court and the cold weather. “It can’t be.” I shake my head. “The queen doesn’t travel. She never leaves the Ice Court.”
“It’s true. She has left and is coming here. The guard said she received word last night about what happened and immediately set out in a great hurry.”
I stare at her in shock. “But why would the queen come all the way here? Not unless—”
“Unless it’s important,” Bess finishes. “The guard said she wants to see the fae for herself. To determine if he really is the Shadowfae King.” She pauses. “And if he is…she plans to kill him herself.”
The porridge in my stomach suddenly feels like lead.
I can still see him in my mind. Crumpled on the floor of his cell, covered in blood and bruises, his eyes finding mine through the darkness.
“The girl had nothing to do with this.”
He tried to help me. I know he did. Somehow, he convinced the Ruler General to let me go. Perhaps he still has sway.
And now Queen Snow is coming to kill him.
“That’s terrible,” I manage to say.
Bess nods grimly. “It is.”
She stands, picking up her empty bowl. “I think it’s so much better that we’re just lowly humans, going about our business. We don’t have to concern ourselves with such matters.”
I nod. “You’re right.”
“I’m glad they let you go, Isla. I’ve heard of the fae keeping people locked up even when they’re innocent. You got lucky.”
Not lucky. I had a helping hand. I know it.
“I’m very lucky.” Once again, I force a smile. They’re getting more difficult to fake.
“You eat up and then get to practice.” She smiles back at me for a moment, then she stands and walks away, leaving me sitting by the fire with my half-eaten porridge.
I need to focus on surviving the next few days. On getting through these performances without revealing my secret. Without ending up in a cell again, or worse.
Once we leave the Shadow Court, I’ve made up my mind, I’m leaving the troupe. It’s become too dangerous to keep performing. There has been too much attention. There are too many eyes watching. For that very same reason, I can’t leave just yet.
I’ll go back to what I was doing before I joined the troupe. I’m better than I was before. I know I can make a decent living singing in taverns for coin.
It’s the only way to stay relatively safe.
I need to forget about the Shadowfae King. His fate has nothing to do with me. I don’t owe him anything. I don’t even know for sure if he got me freed.
Even if I wanted to help him, I couldn’t.
I might have some fae blood, but I’m only one person. Bess was right about one thing: I am a lowly nobody.