Chapter 6
Ramia and I followed Enzira up the castle steps, trying not to trod on the long, gliding purple tail that swished behind her.
I felt the eyes of all the Shadow Fae boring into the back of my head as I passed, but I resisted the urge to turn and look at them.
It was probably just as alarming for them to see a human as it was for me to see them.
Once we passed through the doors, darkness pressed in on us, lit only by the tiny blobs of white light from the lanterns along the wall. I squinted, peering up at the ceiling to see how high it went. With a gasp, I jerked backward, my hand locking onto Ramia’s arm.
“What?” she hissed.
I pointed toward the ceiling, and she stiffened beside me.
The lantern light just barely illuminated the wispy smoke coiling overhead, completely masking the ceiling from view. If the shadows descended lower, they would consume us all.
A warm, scaly hand pressed against my arm, and I jerked around to see Enzira looking at me with wide eyes.
“Safe,” she said softly. “No danger.” She pointed up at the shadows, then said, “ Tirsh. ”
I blinked at the Agnarrish word. Tirsh meant Umbra.
The shadows above us must belong to the Umbra Mist Clermont had spoken of .
Slowly, I nodded, choosing to trust her. I offered Ramia a reassuring pat on her hand, but she grumbled something about careless fae and weak humans .
From my studies, I knew the Shadow Fae had excellent night vision, like many nocturnal predators.
This was made abundantly clear as we made our way through the castle.
The strange white orbs barely lit up the hall.
I could only just make out the crimson carpet at my feet and Enzira’s purple tail, but not much else.
When I stretched my arms out on either side of me, they met nothing but air, which meant the hallways were likely built to be wide enough for all manner of enormous unseelie creatures.
Enzira led us up a winding staircase that seemed to climb so high we might have reached the stars. I paused often to catch my breath, and Ramia even more so. But Enzira was patient and waited for us without complaint before continuing onward.
When we reached the top, I couldn’t help myself.
I gasped, craning my neck as I took in the dome-shaped window at the top.
We were so high up that this tower must have pierced through the shadows coating the outside of the castle.
Nothing but a wide expanse of gleaming stars could be seen from the window, each one sparkling.
The midnight-blue void stretched on and on, reminding me that there was a world beyond these deadly shadows.
There was so much more to see than what my tiny existence offered.
“Wow,” I whispered, awestruck, then looked around, wondering where the Umbra Mist was. Then, I noticed puffs of it collected in dark corners of the ceiling, as if they were hiding from the stars.
Frowning, I looked at Enzira, who had followed my gaze. She nodded vigorously. “Light,” she said, gesturing to the stars. Then, she shook her head, her braids flicking around her when she pointed to the Umbra Mist. “No tirsh .”
“The… The Umbra Mist doesn’t li ke light?” I asked.
“ Dach .” That meant yes .
I tucked this useful information away for future use, realizing this offered an advantage during the nighttime. But what about the daytime, when the sun was out? Without the Umbra Mist, how could I protect myself against the deadlier shadows?
Also, Clermont had mentioned the Umbra Mist had followed the carriage into my court when he’d come to collect me. But if it hid from the light, how was that possible?
I presumed Enzira didn’t understand enough Terrish to answer these questions, so I made a mental note to ask Clermont or someone else later on. Perhaps the library would hold the information I needed.
“Come,” Enzira prompted, waving her hand.
I followed her down the hall, which was carpeted in amber, making the floor feel soft and plush even through my shoes.
The Umbra Mist was thinner up here, but it still swirled above me as if welcoming me to my new home.
The more I looked at the translucent puffs of smoke, the less frightening they seemed.
A few paces down the hall, Enzira stopped and gestured to a closed door. “Your room.” She then grabbed Ramia’s hand, guiding her to the door on the opposite side of the hall. “And your room.”
“I—what—” Ramia sputtered, trying and failing to jerk free of the fae’s grip. Enzira was much taller and bulkier than her, so Ramia’s feeble attempts were useless. “I—I don’t sleep up here!” Ramia protested. “Where do the servants live? That’s where I should be.”
But Enzira only shook her head more adamantly. For a moment, the two struggled, arguing with each other in their own language until Ramia’s shrill voice echoed around us, bouncing off the walls. I finally drew closer to her and grabbed her shoulder, shushing her.
“It’s fine,” I assured her. “Perhaps that’s their custom here. Besides, it might be better if you’re close by. ”
Ramia swallowed, her lips growing thin. Then, she nodded, still looking deeply uncomfortable.
Enzira glanced between us. “Food?”
Ramia looked at me, eyebrows raised questioningly.
I hesitated. “What food do you have?” I asked Enzira.
“ Pesha. ” Enzira brought her clawed hands together and wriggled them like a fish.
Ramia wrinkled her nose. “Is it cooked?”
Enzira only frowned, shaking her head to indicate she didn’t understand.
“ Furgish ?” I asked, using my hands to mime a fish swimming, just like she had. Then I pretended to skewer the fish on an invisible rod, and held it over my other hand, wiggling my fingers to make it look like fire.
“Ah!” Enzira said, comprehension dawning. “ Dach. Furgish. ”
I smiled. “That would be wonderful. Yes, we would both like some pesha please.”
Enzira smiled widely, revealing not one but two rows of fangs. Ramia uttered a soft gasp beside me, but I forced myself to keep a calm expression, knowing Enzira did not mean us harm. She was only excited that we understood each other.
Surely, revealing I knew one Agnarrish word wouldn’t cause alarm.
I moved to open my door, but Enzira made a noise of protest and stepped in front of me before turning the ornate silver handle herself. Slowly, the door eased open, and she peered through the crack, nodding once. She stood back to let me pass.
I looked at her in confusion, and she said, “ Das lochen es brignok. ” She moved her fingers through the air, wiggling them as if she were sprinkling glitter in the air.
My blood chilled. The castle is enchanted. I remembered Clermont giving me a similar warning. What would have happened if I’d opened the door without Enzira here? Would something in the room have attacked me ?
I shuddered at the thought.
“Safe?” I asked, pointing to the open door.
Enzira nodded. “Yes. Is safe. But no…” She swung the door as if to close it. “ Non mur das pursh .”
Don’t close the door.
A shiver of awareness rippled down my spine. I was torn between terror and curiosity. How did the magic work? Did it apply to all the rooms, or only mine? Was it because I was human?
Biting my lip, I nodded, gazing apprehensively at my open door. Enzira shuffled to the other side and cracked open Ramia’s door as well. All the while, my maid looked on with narrowed eyes, her face full of displeasure and apprehension.
Enzira pressed a fist to her heart, then gestured down the hall where we’d come. “Food.”
With that, she turned and left us. The darkness swallowed her form almost instantly, leaving only the soft padding of her footsteps until they, too, faded completely.
I turned to Ramia and whispered, “Don’t close any doors.”
She huffed a frustrated sigh. “I gathered as much, my lady.” She cut a sharp glance at me. “You were right to keep your knowledge of their language a secret. Who knows what important information you might come across if they speak freely in front of you?”
I certainly understood the advantage, but it didn’t mean I liked it. Right now, I would clearly get more information by speaking plainly in Agnarrish instead of pretending I couldn’t. But Ramia was right. Once I met the king, there was no telling what conversations I might overhear.
“I think I should go in with you,” Ramia said, pointing to my open door. “Just to be safe.”
I was perfectly fine with this. Slowly, I pushed the door open the rest of the way. Lanterns immediately came to life, the same eerie white orbs that lined the hallways .
As my eyes adjusted, I made out a massive bed taking up one-half of the room.
It was easily twice the size of my bed in the Earthen Court.
I presumed the mattresses here were much bigger to accommodate various unseelie forms. Delicate lavender drapes hung across the bed, and it was littered with plush pillows that made me want to dive in and bury myself in the softness.
An armoire made of hand-carved mahogany rested on the opposite end of the room. Next to it was what looked like a giant black hole. My eyes widened as I took it in. I edged closer, but Ramia grabbed my arm.
“Careful, my lady,” she hissed.
I nodded, peering closer. It was certainly a hole. All I could make out was darkness from within, but it smelled strangely sulfuric, and the air surrounding it was warmer than the rest of the room. Curiosity wriggled within me, but I wasn’t daft enough to move any closer.
My gaze roved over the room once more, and I frowned. “No bathing chamber?”
“I can send for a tub for you later, if you need it,” Ramia offered.
I shook my head. “I’m exhausted. I’ll just go to sleep and bathe in the morning.”
“Very well, my lady.” Ramia reached into her bag and withdrew a familiar pouch made of blue scales, then dropped it into my open hand. “This is yours. And I’ll leave your books on the stand over there.”
I offered her a warm smile. “You are too kind, Ramia. You think of everything.”