CHAPTER 18
THE A’KORI PALACE
Present Day
My eyes fly open the moment I realize I’ve fallen asleep.
It’s too late, it’s morning. I check the darkness inside me, surprised to find myself absent the coiled tension I’m accustomed to in the mornings.
Eyeing the empty cup next to me, I ponder if I’d had a lucky night or the herbs were more effective than I expected.
I’m not fool enough to assume the change is permanent, but I take the reprieve in stride, promising myself that I will find my way to the kitchen to procure more of the mixture.
A thick floral steam wafts out of the washroom. I smile sleepily, dragging myself from the settee where I fell asleep. I’m struck by an intriguing thought as I watch the sprites plucking fragrant flowers from their hair, casting them to float about on the surface of the water.
Walking to the closet to retrieve my cloak, I turn its hidden pocket inside out, relieved when a few small pieces of debris fall into my palm. I doubt it’s enough to assist in my sleep, but when I hold the crushed leaves to my nose, I recognize the unique, pungent smell of the herb.
Bending at the hip, I bring myself closer to eye-level with the sprites, extending my hand toward them.
“Do you know what this is?” I ask.
It might be a long shot, but not only are they wood sprites and well acquainted with all manner of natural things, they also contain the knowledge of the many mortal lifetimes they’ve lived.
Tig takes a step toward my hand, eyeing the small fragments speculatively.
Leaning in she gives them a sniff even as Eon pushes her sister aside and follows suit much more enthusiastically.
The sprite nods, then sneezes. The sharp puff of breath sending the remnants of my pouch into a flurry before landing scattered about the floor.
“Ma’shai,” she says bashfully.
My brows nearly hit my forehead as I ask, “Was that an apology?”
It is the first time her sprite words have landed so easily upon my ears, and she nods with a happy smile.
“Do you recognize the herb?” I ask.
The sisters nod in unison, Tig looking more intrigued by my question than her exuberant sister.
“Can you show me where to get more?” I wonder hopefully.
The smile falls from Eon’s face as both sisters shake their heads, confirming my fear that the herb is not so easily obtained. A few breathy whispers pass between the sprites and Tig points to the flowering branches in her hair.
“Will grow.” The soft echo of her voice lands on my ears.
“You can grow them?” I say in utter shock, and she seems pleased by the surprised look on my face, nodding before ushering me into the bath.
As I soak in the tub, my mind wanders to my conversation with Felias.
He said there was power in the friendship of a fea, and I can’t help but wonder what other hidden talents the sisters possess.
Though I think it might be rude to ask them.
It’s clear there is a depth to their world that I remain completely ignorant of, and that is something I will need to rectify as soon as possible.
Awri was willing to answer every question I had the night I learned of the fea’s continued existence in our veil.
Having never pondered more about the creatures than I was told, those questions were all fairly superficial.
Had I known then all that I know now, my questions would have been very different.
I remain in my room throughout the morning, content to let Awri seek me out when she is ready.
I begin to question why she needs me at the palace when there is plenty of time each day for me to come and go from my uncle’s manor, but I don’t read too much into it.
If she wants me close at hand, I’ll take the opportunity it presents without question.
The sprites’ voices come to me, easier than they ever have before.
While Tig speaks to me in a heavily accented and somewhat broken human tongue, Eon seems to prefer the odd breathy language of the sprites.
I don’t ask if she knows the human language, I imagine she’s had plenty of time to learn it if she’d ever cared to do so.
Instead, I find myself asking the sprite to teach me her tongue, and to that, she agrees gladly.
My head is a jumbled mess of sprite speak when I finally become bored enough to venture from my room, intent on exploring the palace and perhaps finding a little food.
Eon selected a silver-white dress for the day and glared at my leathers rather than offering them to me.
I briefly debate wearing them, and though I would like nothing more, I decide that while the gift is a kind gesture despite who gave them to me, they may not be appropriate attire for court.
My feet take me down the same corridors the general led me through only hours before. At least I know where to find the kitchen, though whether or not I’m brave enough to face Media this morning, I’ve yet to decide. No doubt the woman has returned to her place by the fire.
My feet slow when I round a corner beyond the general’s quarters, and I hear Riesh’s voice bouncing along the walls of the passageway, “It’s getting worse along the northern border. I’m not sure how much longer we can remain neutral, Xey.”
“We’ve never been neutral. Not a single day since the sundering,” the general’s deep voice booms.
“Let me rephrase that. We can no longer afford to appear neutral to the La’tari,” Riesh replies.
“You would do nothing?” Awri asks.
I plant my feet, willing myself not to step forward to peer behind the door.
“You know I would give anything to see this war at an end, but we need to be smart. If we anger the Vatruke, neither you nor I will suffer the consequences. It will be the people, just as it was before.”
“The resistance—” Riesh says.
“I will not entertain an alliance with them,” the general growls. “They are reckless, willing to risk the lives of the very fea they claim to protect. I will not waste the lives of the fea needlessly. The ancients would never have allowed it.”
“The ancients aren’t here, but they left us with a strong leader and the power to take back Terr,” Awri argues, “Valtoura—”
“That power is in the southern kingdom, beyond our reach.” The general’s voice barely makes it to my ears when a throat clears behind me.
I whip around to find Kishek looking down at me, a wry smile plastered on his face. I’m not the only one he’s interrupted, and I suppress a cringe when the general makes his way into the hall, followed by Awri and Riesh.
“I’m beginning to think she may be a La’tari spy,” Kishek teases.
I do my best not to flinch under the general’s glower as he steps forward.
“You can hardly call it spying when you’re speaking with an open door,” I say.
“He’s only joking,” Awri reassures me. “We don’t hoard secrets in A’kori.”
Not like the La’tari. The words she leaves unsaid feel like an unintended jab, and I want to tell her that the things they were discussing are exactly the types of secrets they should be hoarding.
But I bite my tongue and thank the stars for small favors.
I’m not sure what any of it means, but I tuck away the conversation to ponder at another time.
Kishek’s eyes are heavy with dark circles as he eyes me thoughtfully. He looks like he hasn’t slept in a week.
“Is everything all right?” I ask.
He offers me a stiff nod and turns to Awri. “I’ll go and get some sleep.”
Awri’s eyes are tinged with worry and follow him as he disappears down the corridor. When she finds me watching her, she offers me a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
Riesh excuses himself when Awri begins toward the domed fea room and I make my way after her.
It takes me a moment to realize the general followed after us.
The bruise below his eye has almost healed completely and it’s the first time I’ve ever envied the feyn.
I’d known many who’d wished for their powerful gifts or coveted their long lives.
If I ever had to choose from among their traits, their natural ability to heal would be mine.
I can’t help but wonder if the trait heals more than wounds of the flesh.
Awri walks to a large table littered with lists for the party and leafs through them. I’m not sure what she’s looking for. I’m not even sure she knows what she’s looking for. My friend seems prone to moods of whimsy when it comes to planning the masquerade.
“Your legs are bare,” the general says behind me, and I turn to find him glaring at the naked flesh, laid bare by the flowing panels of my dress.
“They are.” I smile at the male as if he just unearthed some great secret lost to Terr. “Have they offended you?”
I quirk an eyebrow when he meets my eyes and his jaw tenses. A quick glance at Awri tells me she’s as perplexed by him as I am.
“I’ll have another word with the tailor,” he says, taking note of the guards stationed at both the entry and exit of the room.
“Gia.” He summons a beautiful, black-haired female with a light scar on her cheek. She jogs over, dipping her head as he speaks his command. “Relieve Redik and Andrin of their posts until the masque. Auna and Kaila are to replace them.”
“As you say.” She rushes to dismiss the males guarding the southern door, reissuing the order for their replacement to a female standing by.
I glance at Awri and find her watching the general with great interest. Her face is contorted in curiosity and sheer confusion.
The general gives her a flat look, and more passes between them than I’m able to perceive because without a word she smooths her face and hands me a sheet of paper from the stack.
“Cake?” I ask.
And why am I surprised. At the rate my indecisive friend is planning this party, I have no doubt it will take the better part of the day to have it ordered.
“We just need to decide on a shape and flavor,” Awri says, as if those two decisions won’t take her hours, with or without my help.
“What are the options?” I ask.