Chapter 40 Judgment #2
The quicksilver had bound to the jewelry as if doing so was the most natural thing in the world.
Tal was unconscious when we entered the pool, so Fisher carried him.
Foley clamped a hand around Zovena’s wrist and held on to her tight as they disappeared into the silver.
I followed, casting a look over my shoulder, allowing myself a moment to second-guess all of this.
The residents of Ammontraíeth were Fae now.
They were confused. Even down in the Cogs, the high bloods were all dead, and disoriented Fae wandered the streets, not knowing what to do or where to go.
Was I still their queen? Was this still their home?
I couldn’t wrap my head around any of it.
Leaving right now did not seem like a good idea, but what else was there to do?
Cahlish’s armory was deserted save for a handful of chickens, which scattered, squawking in surprise, when we emerged from the quicksilver. My head was spinning, and Zovena’s relentless sobbing made it impossible to think.
The night air bit at my face as we crossed the yard toward the house.
The manor stood proud as a sentinel, blaring light out into the dark, and my pulse picked up when the front door came into view.
A part of me felt—foolishly—that everything would be okay as soon as we were inside.
That wasn’t the case, of course, but I let myself believe it.
If only for the next twenty-four hours, I had to let myself believe it, or I was going to crumple under the weight of everything that was happening right now.
Taladaius was still convulsing. He would wake for a minute or two and struggle to speak. He kept gasping at the air, as if he’d forgotten what it was like to breathe. But then, I supposed he had forgotten. It had been over a thousand years . . .
Zovena sniffled behind Fisher, occasionally letting out a mournful sob, but she otherwise hadn’t said much. She was wobbly on her feet, exhaustion making her unsteady.
Fisher opened the door and gestured for me to enter first, which was probably for the best—the moment I stepped foot into Cahlish, I came face-to-face with my brother, who was brandishing a heavy poker from one of the fireplaces.
His eyes widened as he took me in. “What the fuck happened to you?” He frowned. “What are you wearing?”
We’d fled Ammontraíeth as quickly as possible. I sure as shit hadn’t bothered to get changed before leaving, although I had taken a moment to grab Edina’s book. “It’s a dress, Hayden,” I said tiredly. “Where’s Carrion?”
“He’s upstairs. He sent me down here to fetch something for him.
I heard the noise at the door and thought someone was trying to break in.
Why are you wet, Saeris? Is that blood?” My brother looked more and more dumbfounded as everyone piled into the house—Fisher first, whom he obviously recognized.
But then Tal, shaking in his arms, and Foley, and finally Zovena.
We all looked like we’d had the tar beaten out of us.
“Well, this doesn’t look good. I thought you were going to a party.
” Hayden closed his grip around the poker, as if he wasn’t quite sure whether he needed it now or not.
“Where’s Te Léna?” I asked. “Have you seen her?”
“I think she’s still in the dining room. We just got done with dinner. I was on my way to bed,” he answered.
“Bed? Yes, that’s probably a good idea.” Gods, it wasn’t even midnight yet.
The hands of the tall grandfather clock in the hallway showed just past eleven thirty, but Hayden probably didn’t even know that.
It had taken me a while to get used to Yvelian clocks.
The sun dials we had in Zilvaren were far less complicated than a Fae timepiece, but also far less accurate.
“Why don’t you go on up and . . . we can chat about all of this in the morning?
” Why did I sound so strange? So stiff? I hardly recognized my own voice.
Hayden made a scoffing sound, at last lowering the poker. “You’re sending me away again, then? Hiding the truth from me some more? Because that worked out so well last time?”
I loved him, I did. I had to. But gods have mercy, did he make it difficult sometimes.
“All right. Y’know what, Hayden?” I threw up my hands.
“Have it your way. You want to know everything? Fine. Come and learn everything. You’ll be wishing you could go back to living in ignorance very soon, I promise you. ”
KINGFISHER
I was barely awake. Saeris sat pale as a ghost next to me at the table.
There hadn’t been time for baths, and so I’d used my shadows to clean us all up.
Tal was still unconscious and had been laid out to rest in one of the rooms upstairs.
Zovena, who hadn’t stopped wailing, was verging on hysteria, and hadn’t even seemed to notice when I’d used my magic to remove the blood from her dress.
Once I’d kitted everyone out in clean clothing, Archer had shown everyone where they could sleep, and then Te Léna had spent an hour assessing everyone’s injuries.
When she was done, the rest of us had sat down at the table, and I’d explained to Te Léna and Maynir what had happened at Ammontraíeth.
I was about halfway through the story when Carrion hurried into the dining room, carrying a small blue pot full of dirt and a sharp dagger clamped between his teeth.
He stopped in his tracks when he saw the group of us gathered around the table.
“I missed something,” he said carefully around the blade. “I definitely missed something.”
“Sit down and listen,” I demanded. Up until very recently, I would have told the smuggler to leave and close the fucking door behind him.
But certain thoughts had started to form in the back of my head—thoughts that couldn’t be ignored forever.
One day very soon, we were going to have to think about the Yvelian throne, and Swift wouldn’t be any less of a buffoon if I kept treating him like one.
I didn’t like it, but his comment back in Zilvaren had struck a chord.
Carrion’s eyebrows shot up. “I was actually just going to take some clippings of the plants out—”
“Sit down, Carrion.”
A smile slowly began to spread across his face. “You want me to stay. You missed me.”
“If you don’t take that knife out of your mouth and sit down, I’m going to personally smash that plant pot over your head,” Saeris muttered in a flat tone.
“Okaaaay. All right. I am sitting.” He winked at Saeris as he set his things down and took a seat.
The table still felt woefully empty, too many chairs unoccupied.
Lorreth and Danya were with the warriors at the temporary camp.
The gods only knew where Renfis was. And we were missing one other person, too.
Someone I distinctly wanted to have a conversation with.
She showed up just as I was detailing to Te Léna and Maynir how few of the high bloods had chosen to accept the chance to become Fae again. A thick silence fell as Iseabail entered the room.
There was no pretense to her. No denial or contrition.
I met her gaze and held it.
“Iseabail, come and join us.” Te Léna was always warm, even when the tension in the room was cold as ice. “Fisher was just explaining what happened at Ammontraíeth.”
“She knows all about what happened at Ammontraíeth, don’t you, Iseabail?” I said.
The witch pressed her hands to her skirts, wiping her palms against the material—they were probably slick with sweat, as they damn well should have been. “I do,” she answered in a clear voice. “And I’m sure you want me to be sorry for it, Kingfisher, but I’m not. I can’t be.”
“You put my mate in danger,” I growled.
On my left, Saeris shifted, her attention moving from the red-haired witch to me.
She was quicker than most, had already put two and two together, but still she wasn’t angry at the female standing at the foot of the table.
Placing her hand on top of mine, she let out an exhausted sigh.
“I wasn’t hurt. That was clearly never their intention. ”
Carrion propped his elbow on the table, rested his chin in hand, and said, “What in the actual fuck are you all talking about?”
“They’re angry at me for what happened tonight,” Iseabail said, in a calm, even tone.
Te Léna had figured it out. Maynir, too.
Both the healer and her husband traded uncomfortable looks.
“You didn’t want to come back here and help us, did you?
” Te Léna said. No one would have blamed Te Léna if she’d been furious over the witch’s deception, but it was worse than that.
She was hurt. She had thought she’d made a friend.
Iseabail’s defiant expression collapsed in the face of the healer’s accusation, but she maintained her stiff-backed posture, chin held high regardless.
“I’m sorry, Te Léna. I enjoyed spending time with you and learning from you, truly I did.
I wanted to help you find Ren as well, but I needed a reason to stay here at Cahlish.
I had to be close for the spell to work. ”
“Ahh. I get it now,” Carrion said. “You’re the one who cast the spell that killed the high bloods. You gave Tal those vials to cure the Blood Court!”
“I did what I had to do. Do you have any idea how long we’ve waited for an opportunity to get inside Ammontraíeth? Do you know how long—”
“You put my mate in danger,” I repeated.
She bit her bottom lip, looking down at her hands. There were long gashes at her wrists, angry, still dripping blood onto the dining room floor.
I closed my eyes, laughing humorlessly. “As soon as those high bloods were affected by the blood in that wine, they were freed from the Blood Court’s control, weren’t they?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Any of them could have attacked us.”
“Yes.”
“And it was your blood the thralls dripped into their glasses, wasn’t it?”