Chapter 16 #2
“Suit yourself.” I sat and stretched for my toes.
The night air was cool and had turned misty.
It would probably rain overnight, but it seemed to rain a lot in Thanantholl.
A branch of water across the road from Thain’s home pattered along quietly, taking with it fallen rose petals and bright ruby leaves.
“How long do you suppose we’ll be here? In Thanantholl,” I asked the bird. He continued to crunch at his dinner. “It sounds as though we’ll be traveling again at some point.”
I moved on to another stretch, my arms this time. It was peaceful here, and beautiful. I hated to admit it, but the Wyldes felt right. Something in my bones knew I belonged here. Tomorrow, I would have to make an honest effort to learn about the fae. About my people.
I stretched for a little longer than I would have liked, but not as long as Schula would have made me.
The moon was going to be full soon, and the night air glowed silver.
By the time I was done stretching, Puko was done eating.
I took his plate inside to my table and lay down in my tunic.
I was exhausted, sure that the moment my head hit the pillow I’d be able to fall asleep.
I didn’t.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the palace.
The fae that had stared at me. The king’s heavy presence.
Lady Krissaph’s words. I turned on my side, and the wraith came to mind.
I shoved it away and sat up. Sleep was useless.
Maybe some time by the warm hearth would do me good.
I shoved my legs back in my breeches and stockings—not my nice new things but something that didn’t take me several minutes to figure out how to lace—and crept downstairs.
The fire was inviting. Its warmth reached me from the top of the stairs, and I sank into it as I descended the staircase. When I neared the fireplace, I nearly jumped out of my skin. The chair that faced away from the stairs wasn’t empty.
“You’re up late.” Thain was sitting forward, elbows on his knees and a glass of amber liquid in one hand. He had discarded his doublet and rolled up the sleeves of his fine shirt.
Closing my eyes, I sighed out all the tension. Jumpy, I was just jumpy about my seal. These worries were building and making things worse, but I still didn’t know what to do about them. Other than finding a way to finally open it up and face what was inside.
Nope.
“I couldn’t sleep.” I sat in the chair on the other side of the fire. “You’re up late as well.”
“I suppose I have a lot on my mind,” he said after a while. “What seems to be keeping you up?”
“Several things.” I sank back into the chair. “I’m still coming to terms with what I am. I mean, I’ve always known, but I didn’t realize until coming here what it really meant.”
“Ah.” He set his glass aside and sat back. “It’s a lot to take in, I’m sure.”
The only thing I could do was hold my tongue.
If learning more about the fae was the only problem on my mind, this wouldn’t be so much of a struggle.
But the more I learned that my involvement with Mila—with a witch—might be a problem, the more stress seemed to pile on top of me.
The Wyldes were not a place where I would be ostracized for being part fae, a blessing I never thought I’d have, but I couldn’t help feeling as though I’d lose it all if they found out I was raised with a witch.
“Are you all right after the event tonight?” he asked, his voice low like a fire that was settling down once the logs were dried and the bark was black. There had always been something smoky about the way I perceived Thain, even his hair that never quite lost the campfire scent to it.
“It was a spectacle,” I said, and Thain’s low, rumbling laugh sent a warm comfort through me.
“You don’t like it any more than I do,” I prodded, face warming but a smile on my lips as I picked at the hem of my sleeve.
“That I don’t,” he agreed. He reached out, brushing a stray bit of hair off my forehead, the roughness of his fingertips light on my skin.
“So, I’ll be asked to travel to all the courts?” I voiced my newest concern. “Why can’t I just stay here, in Thanantholl?”
Thain sighed, looking out the window where the moon lit up the city around us.
“Baeleon speaks for the land, just as the other courts speak for theirs. I’ll not pretend to understand what politics brought them to this decision, but I also wouldn’t hold you back from your greatest chance at finding the best place for you. ”
Tracing the lines of him with my eyes, every part of his face the moonlight touched, my stomach twisted to think the most kindred spirit I’d found might not be part of that “best place.”
“What’s to stop me from simply announcing that the Autumn Lands feel the most like home?” I asked.
“You’ll find a place that draws you to it,” Thain said. “You’ll know what feels right when you’re there.”
“But what if I don’t? What if the parts of me that aren’t fae prevent me from having the full feelings the rest of you do?
” I swallowed. “I’m tired of being told I’ll feel a certain way.
This was supposed to be my chance to find something for myself that wasn’t defined by how everyone around me felt about my presence.
I don’t know enough. I don’t have enough information about this place, and I don’t truly know what it means to live a life here. Not yet, anyway.”
The quiet of the house stretched between us, Thain swirling his glass.
“Tomorrow,” Thain said, interrupting my thoughts, “we can go to the library if you’d like to learn more about our history.”
“Aren’t you old enough to have lived most of the history?” I asked, provoking a laugh from him. His fangs glinted in the flickering light.
“Why don’t we leave it to the scholars who are better suited to it.” He reached back and untied his ponytail, scratching his head and letting his hair fall freely.
He emptied his glass, setting it on a side table as the fire glinted off the black band on his thumb.
“Can I ask about your ring?” I asked, and he glanced down at his hand. “I saw you and Eberon wearing those black rings on your thumbs. I saw the king wearing them too. Do they mean something?”
“Mmm.” He looked down to his right hand and played with the obsidian band on it. “This ring means I’ve found and lost a member of my triquetram.”
“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” I whispered. “So, the king then? Did he . . . ?”
“Yes, both of his. Baeleon is old, though, it’s to be expected eventually.” Thain stopped fidgeting with his ring and pulled the bottle from the mantle to pour another drink. “Have you had any experiences with your magic showing up? Any events at all?”
Chewing on my lower lip, I mulled over my answer.
Of course there’d been an event, a huge one that had shaped my whole perspective on magic.
Namely that I didn’t want it. But the king had asked him just today to guide me on my magic, something that terrified me to no end.
What if he found out what a danger I could be and didn’t want me in his home anymore?
“When I was a child,” I began but stopped. My fingers dug into the arms of the chair.
“Go on,” he urged softly.
“I set fire to a house by accident,” I admitted.
Suddenly, I was keenly aware of my beating heart.
The heat that consumed my palms, the stiffness of my back.
He didn’t have to know how bad it had been.
Thain never needed to know, because it might change things between us, and I couldn’t handle that.
“Thank you for talking with me, Thain. I think I’m ready to go to bed now. ”
My heart was pounding. I had to get out of there.
“Wren?” Thain called, but it was too late. I had already leaped from my chair and was on the stairs before he set his glass down and stood up. I glanced back to see him standing, staring up at me, but he didn’t give chase.
I topped the stairs and ran down the hall to my room, not looking back. Coward, I chided. You are a lying, hiding coward.