Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Caldon
The summons came within the hour in the form of a satyr in royal colors.
Fed, dressed, and faces washed, Schula, Eberon, and I walked down the main hall to meet the king.
Fae flowed into the hall from every corner.
They seemed to be there on business, but not in any hurry to do it.
One tree nymph sauntered down the hall with a basket of flowers.
She stopped to place one in my hair before twirling and wandering off again.
The difference between Thanantholl and Dwellonmar ran deeper than its architecture. The pace in the hallway was a stroll. No one was too bothered to stop and exchange greetings; nothing was carried out with urgency. Things would happen when they happened, and no sooner than that.
The green that engulfed the ceiling gave the whole palace an earthy scent, with hints of tea and lots of florals. Something about it made me want to take a nap (although the more likely reason was that I hadn’t seen a mattress in days).
“Finally,” Eberon huffed as we reached a grand doorway. He gave our names to the little herald standing by the guards, and we were promptly led through the door.
“Lord Eberon and Lady Schula.” They walked forward to bow before a bearded copper fae on the throne at the back of the hall. He wasn’t on a dais like King Baeleon, rather he was surrounded by fae lounging on cushions on the floor.
Diamid was big. His frame was fleshed out with more meat on his bones than some of the others around him, reminding me of Bryn.
He even had a beard and eyes that crinkled when he smiled, but that was where the similarities ended.
The Spring Court’s king had a long beard of pale green, possibly hinting at whatever was under his glamour.
And it was braided, tiny intricate patterns that looped and draped down the front of him, with more over his shoulders from his long, straight hair.
He wore fine, yellow clothes and polished stone jewelry everywhere I could see.
Around him, his family dressed much the same.
Wooden stringed instruments played from all four corners of the room in unison, and several sprites danced from wall to wall and back again.
“The youth, Wren, of the Southern Mountains!” The herald announced me just as they had Eberon and Schula, so I followed suit and bowed to the king.
“Stand!” King Diamid commanded in a light, mirthful voice. His court was all smiles, and I noticed two identical pairs of green eyes watching me from cushions near the foot of the throne. I smiled, and they looked at each other with mischievous grins. The twins.
“Come, sit or stand or dance if you will.” The king sat up straight in his throne. “We have things to discuss, yes?”
He gave two quick claps, and the music stopped.
The court scurried to remove the cushions from the floor.
Three chairs were brought near the throne for us, and the courtiers took up positions around the walls, chatting among themselves, while some still danced.
I didn’t see where the twins had disappeared to in the commotion.
“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice, Majesty.” Eberon bowed and took a seat. “Our deepest condolences to your court, and a letter from His Majesty King Baeleon.”
Eberon handed the sealed letter from his breast pocket to a guard, who looked it over before handing it to his king. Diamid broke the seal and read it right there.
“Ah, Baeleon never did mince his words. A nice sentiment, though.” He put the letter in his own pocket. “A sad business, Galavan’s passing. His triquetram is understandably shaken up about it, as is all Dwellonmar.”
A pang shot through my heart. Galavan had managed to find all his triquetram, and now their bond was broken.
Two more fae would wear those cold black rings.
Maybe I didn’t know what it truly meant yet, but my grief for Bryn was so very heavy, and I could only imagine the same rested on their shoulders now.
“We will attend the ceremony, of course, to pay respects,” Eberon said. “I understand it will be tonight?”
“Yes. We feast here after the family speaks, then when you are ready, the farewells can be done at the top of the steps on the north side.”
“Quite an honor,” Schula whispered. “Your Majesty is too kind.”
“Galavan will be missed.” Diamid sighed. “But the mourning is for later; for now, I would like to show Wren here some of my fair city.”
Eyes shifted to me. “Thank you, Majesty.”
“Caldon will attend you through the streets, give you a small taste of Dwellonmar, and I hope you will stay as long as you wish. I insist at the very least that you are here for the spring equinox.”
“I may come and go before then, but I will do my best to be here for such a special time.” Eberon had coached me on what to say if this particular offer came about. It seemed to please the king.
“Well said, young one, well said.” He sat back in his chair. “I have much to prepare before sunset, but Caldon will take care of your every need. Will you join me tomorrow for lunch? We are having a picnic; Caldon can lead you to it.”
“Yes, Majesty.” I gave a small bow from my chair. “Thank you.”
“Very good.” He smiled, pleased. “Caldon! Caldon, escort our guests.”
The fae in question had been talking to a group lounging near some of the musicians. He looked up when his name was called and grinned when he spotted us. Leaning down to excuse himself, he made his way over to the king’s area.
“I am at your service.” Caldon placed a hand on his heart before his king, then turned to offer me a hand up. I looked at Schula and Eberon, who nodded.
“Thank you,” I told him as he assisted me to my feet.
“My pleasure, lovely one.” Caldon’s words were a warm whisper, not for the attention of others around us. My eyes shot to Schula, but she was already occupied. Eberon had stood to extend a hand for her in the same courtesy, and she was straightening her clothing.
“Take the youth to see the city of gardens and take the ambassadors wherever they wish to go,” the king told Caldon, who nodded.
“Thank you, King Diamid.” Eberon and Schula bowed; I did the same. “We will see you tonight.”
“Take good care of them.” The king nodded and clapped, resuming the music and merriment.
Everything felt so loud, so boisterous, in a moment where I was still hot from nerves and stiff from anxiety. It was a relief when Caldon gestured for us to follow him out of the great hall, and the attendants at the doors allowed them to close behind us with a muffled thud.
All the air flew out of me, then came back in with a slow pull. The grounding presence of all the greenery and the smaller space with fewer people in it was a blessing.
Caldon lead us through the twisting path to the front double doors, where the sunlight beamed down on the warm steps outside.
Fae lounged on them, some braiding hair and others indulging in a moment of rest or having soft conversations.
The city rolled below, buildings and trees competing with one another to sprout in every pocket where there wasn’t a patch of flowers.
“I was thinking of taking Wren to the Fountain of Faith first, unless there are objections?” He looked at me with his big, lazy eyes, smiling. Always smiling, it seemed. I remembered how Thain rarely smiled. I wasn’t sure what to make of Caldon, but he reminded me of someone.
“Wren, Eb and I have business at the markets.” Schula grabbed my hand and squeezed. “You’re in great hands with Caldon, and it’s his job to show you Dwellonmar. Go with him.”
“Are you sure?” I did want to see the city, but I hadn’t been away from at least one of the three who’d found me since I’d arrived in the Wyldes.
“Absolutely,” Eberon said. “Besides, we have boring errands, you go have fun. It isn’t your job to do the king’s shopping.”
“All right.” I squeezed Schula’s hand back and let go. “I’ll see you tonight?”
“Of course.” She smiled and nodded at Caldon. “She comes back in one piece, or I send you home tonight in pieces yourself.”
“Duly noted, Lady,” Caldon mused. “Shall we, Wren?”
He offered me an arm, something I had seen a lot of the Spring Court do. I looped my arm through his as I had seen done, and we started down the steps.
“Tonight, then.” Caldon bowed his head to the others, and they went another way. I was well and truly at Caldon’s mercy, and my stomach wasn’t quite sure how to take that.
Caldon hadn’t relinquished my arm since he’d taken it on the steps.
We certainly drew eyes, but the fae in the Spring Lands had a different feel to them.
Instead of socialites, tradesmen, and partygoers, I felt lazy days on a warm hillside or dancing in a mountain spring.
I received more than just stares, I received smiles, and whispers, and several times flowers. Caldon seemed to know everyone by name.
“The Fountain of Faith was built for the coronation of our first king, Vrahn,” he said as we approached a large courtyard. “There really isn’t any history behind it other than that, but it’s a popular spot for an outing.”
“Will it be crowded, then? Maybe we should come back another time.” The crowds were definitely wearing on me.
“No, now is as good a time as any to see it with few others around. Many are preparing for tonight.” We rounded a corner, and at the end of the path I could see it. “Besides, we’re here.”
I walked ahead, staring at the fountain.
Carved from some sort of black stone, streaks of white crystal ran through it in thin dashed lines that crossed over one another to make hundreds of eight-pointed stars no bigger than my thumb.
The sun peeking through the exposed parts above splashed against the cut crystals in a glittering display.
It looked like someone had cut a piece of the night sky and brought it down to be touched by mortal hands.
In the pool below, in the center of the swirling stars, was a spray of water that glinted as drops fell all around the sculpture. “It’s lovely.”
“Yes, it is lovely. But more importantly, my favorite sweet shop is on this corner. Wait here.” He left me in the shade of an olive tree and swept away to a store nearby.
I was content to watch the fountain. No one was bothering me, and it was mesmerizing.
Eventually, Caldon came back with a small paper box.
“Candied cherries, you must try them.” He opened the box to reveal a pile of shining cherries, like a fortune of rubies coated in syrup. “Please, ladies first.”
“Thank you.” I gingerly took one and popped it into my mouth. It barely hit my teeth when it burst open, flooding me with warm cherry and honey and I didn’t know what else.
“Delicious, right?” He took one for himself and snapped the box shut. “But there will be more of that later. Let’s see . . . What else can I enchant you with in Dwellonmar?”
“Enchant me?” I looked at him sharply.
“Well, yes. I’ll follow my king’s orders, but I consider escorting a lovely lady a definite perk to the job. Ah, and that tells me just where to go. Come on!”
He offered an arm again, and I hesitated a moment before taking it.
He talked too fast, and his words were too smooth.
I’d watched his kind among the humans too.
The handsome young men who would say sweet words to get you in their beds.
But never had those tricks been used on me, and it flustered me to have that sort of attention.
Some part of me didn’t care, though, and I smiled despite everything, looping my arm through his.
“Where exactly are we going?” I asked.
“Somewhere!” He grinned, and we took off. Smiles and waves followed us as he twisted and turned me through the streets. Spices hit my nose, and more fresh flowers, and smoke. I giggled as we turned in to the open market to see colorful tents and stands all around us.
“I can’t let you leave Dwellonmar without buying you something to wear.” He led me through a row of fabrics outside a large building. “Let’s see, fawn skin, chestnut freckles, smoky eyes. This one!”
He pulled out a pale peach dress. The style was light as a breeze and similar to many I had seen throughout the city already. My arms would be left bare, but the fabric would flow down my body to the floor. “Would you honor the Spring Court by trying on a piece of our craftsmanship?” he asked.
His soft hands brushed a stray lock of hair from my face, and heat rushed to the surface. I couldn’t say no.
“Of course.” I had barely uttered the words when an attendant from the shop pulled me into a dressing closet. We tucked my leggings into my boots, and she stuck a bluebell in my braids before practically pushing me out the door to Caldon.
“Beautiful!” He beamed. “Wren, will you accept this as a token of goodwill from my people?”
“I, I guess, but—”
“No buts, this is me doing my job. I’ve shown you a landmark, our markets, our fashion . . . Let me think. Oh, the lake.” He paid the attendant and asked for the dress to be sent to my room at the palace. Then we were off again.
Caldon’s constant smile and childish nature pulled me all over Dwellonmar. I felt the touch of spring wherever we went.
We sat by a lake and listened to minstrels in a square. We saw art and watched a painter at work. Caldon seemed to know the moment I needed to rest and when I needed to stand in the shade. When he was finally done with me, we walked back to the palace, and he took me straight to my door.
“I’ll come for you tomorrow just before midday,” he promised.
“Tomorrow?” I asked. “Right, the picnic. I’ll see you then.”
He nodded, and I slid into the room. Eberon and Schula were nowhere in sight, so I went to lie on my bed for what time I had left until the ceremony. On the neatly laid linens, I found my new dress, a box of candied cherries, and a silver necklace with a smoky quartz set into it.
For your eyes. Never forget the adventures you’ve seen.
—Caldon
And in that moment, when my heart thudded and my breath caught, I knew I was in trouble.