Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
O nce Lila’s brother left, the circle of mounded earth fell silent but for the bees in the wildflowers. The spirit of the pack surrounded Rafe, elusive and yet as tangible as the sun on his skin. The lost wolves were there, but not there; connected, but the threads that bound them ended in the realm of the dead. Ewan. Connor. His uncle. Many others, youngsters and seasoned hunters both. Rafe could not follow them any more than he could reel them back from the grave.
He let fury burn through his grief, cauterizing the raw wound in his soul. Like them, he’d come to this cursed valley to find the Magician. Prisoner or not, he’d finish the job and leave a bloody trail of vengeance. It would just take longer than he’d thought.
Assuming he lived. Fresh graves had a way of sowing doubt, even for a survivor like him.
His gaze slid from the circle of the dead to Lila, who stood lean and graceful beside him. Her head was bowed as if in prayer. He didn’t doubt her dismay over the slain wolves was real, but he reminded himself that meant next to nothing. Her loyalties lay with her own kin.
She looked up as if hearing his thoughts. “I’ve kept my promise to show you this place. Now it’s time to return to the house.”
Reluctant to leave, Rafe was slow to pick up the basket of greenery and fall into step behind her. As he hesitated, his limbs grew clumsy, alien. Even the sensation of the wicker basket in his hands seemed to belong to someone else. Suffocating panic rose, swamping him before he pushed it down and hastened to obey Lila’s command. The strange sensation faded the instant he did what he was told. As long as he wore the bracelets, there was no breaking a promise to one of her kind.
The trees closed around them, blocking out the sun and cooling the air. Lila walked ahead, her pale hair loose around her shoulders like a cape. Every step she took was in rhythm with the swaying branches, as if she were dancing with the wind in the trees.
Her unexpected kiss still burned deep inside him, branding him with her taste. He didn’t want the lingering memory. The bracelets tugged at him like a tether, but so did desire. It was hard to know where magic ended and unwanted longing began.
His sole spark of hope came from the precious few hours each day that Lila required his help and he got out of his cell. Somehow—between fetching, carrying, and outwitting the bracelets—he’d find the Magician and avenge the murdered wolves. Maybe even escape.
Lila knew he would try. She had to, and yet she let him walk behind her, certain he wouldn’t overcome the magic of his bonds and attack. She was a madwoman, or a terminal optimist who thought taking a werewolf for daily walkies was a bright idea. He’d never understand the fae mind.
Or maybe he underestimated the warrior she was. That idea intrigued him the most.
Before long, the white walls of the way station rose from the landscape. Lila rounded the corner, choosing a modest door at the back of the house. When he followed her through, the gloom inside made him blink. They’d entered a storage room lined with shelves. Half were empty, but the rest were stacked with enough glassware and expensive-looking dishes for an epic banquet.
Lila led the way past the shelves and into another room. This space was huge, almost too large given the dimensions of the house. Maybe magic made it possible to cheat the laws of square footage, because the glossy wooden pillars of the ballroom seemed to march to a vanishing horizon like the trees in an orchard. Lila stopped at the head of the room, dwarfed by the vaulted ceiling supported by ribs of polished oak. Rafe stopped beside her and set the basket of vines and branches at their feet.
“You said you were going to decorate for a reception,” he ventured. “You’re going to need more than what we gathered.”
Her mouth quirked. “You don’t know much about fae.”
“As little as possible. Even less about party planning.”
She cast him a sidelong glance. “Your invite got lost in the mail?”
“I’m a bratwurst and beer kinda guy.”
She gave a small huff of amusement and tucked a strand of hair behind one gently-pointed ear. “Truly, I’m shocked.”
She plucked a vine from the basket and twined it about the nearest pillar, making a loose knot as she murmured in a tongue he didn’t know. Then she took the branches and berries, the garlands of flowers and swatches of moss they had gathered and bound them to the pillar with the length of vine. All the while, she kept speaking in a lilting, sing-song voice.
Rafe felt the spell gather before he saw its effects. As Lila raised her hands, palms out, the air seemed to thicken, the scent of something sweet and slightly burnt clogging the back of his throat. Sounds grew muffled for a long, disorienting moment before the earth bucked beneath his feet. Rafe stumbled, barely catching himself as the building air pressure seemed to release with a pop.
Green ran along the pillars like ink flowing from a brush. One after another, vines spiraled up the polished wood and then crawled along the ceiling until reaching the next pillar, then the next. Wherever they passed, flowering branches of every hue sprang from the wood, weaving above the now-mossy floor. White blooms opened along the ceiling like a carpet of stars, each glowing with a gentle, otherworldly radiance.
Finally, long, ornately carved tables and benches grew in even rows, each one of rare wood polished to a mirror shine. As Rafe watched, open-mouthed, the chamber shifted and shrank until it comfortably fit dozens of tables. When the buzzing presence of the spell faded, he was aware of the gentle perfume of new vegetation. The room was alive, called into being from the woods around them.
Lila lowered her arms. She’d gone pale but for a bright flush of pink along her cheekbones. With a shaky breath, she spun in a circle, admiring her handiwork. Her hair swung as she moved, fanning out in a wheat-pale wave. For a fleeting instant, he saw the young girl she must have been, innocent and astonished by her first glimmers of power. Dazzling.
Her spin brought her close enough to brush against his side. Unthinking, he caught her, fingers closing around the bare skin of her arm. There was lean muscle beneath the soft warmth. Instinctively, he pulled her close, drinking in the electric scent he’d first detected in the midnight woods. She’d been his prey that night, something to be tracked.
The enemy. Someone to outwit, outsmart, outfight. But now none of that seemed wise or right.
A heady wave of confusion made him pull back, though he still held her arm. Her silvery gaze locked with his, watchful but unafraid. Whatever vulnerability he’d seen a moment ago had vanished.
He released her arm and fell back a step. Fear he could have coped with. Even anger. Not the penetrating assessment written across her face—or her frank refusal to judge .
He didn’t know how to weave his way through her contradictions. Her mouth parted, as if to speak, but hesitation filled her eyes. Was she just as perplexed?
A prickle against his consciousness made him turn. The other fae—the mother—lurked at the opposite end of the hall, her brow creased in a frown. The two hooded monsters she called her servants flanked the door.
“There you are,” Galeeta said, starting toward Lila. “You took your time.”
Lila tensed, drawing inward like a turtle ducking into its shell. Rafe barely stopped himself from stepping between them. He contented himself with glaring at the servants, who didn’t stir from their posts.
“Do you like the result?” Lila asked her mother.
The older fae glanced around the room, then gave a judicious nod. “You remembered your lessons.”
Lila folded her arms, guarding herself even as she braced her feet a little wider. “I should hope so.”
He’d seen that reaction among wolves—seeking approval and safety but getting neither so choosing defiance instead. This was a pack without a good Alpha.
As if sensing his judgement, Galeeta scowled. “Time to kennel your pet. We need to talk.”
Lila glanced Rafe’s way, her expression saying she’d rather he stayed. He was a buffer she didn’t want to give up. His protective instinct, foolish puppy that it was, rolled over and showed its belly.
Every instinct screamed not to abandon Lila. Fido’s balls, what was he thinking? The fae were the enemy who’d put him in chains. They’d killed his kin. He was there to seek and destroy at least one of their kind.
Now the servants approached, their steps silent on the moss-strewn floor. Rafe gave a silent bow to the two females and surrendered to the monsters without a fight. He had priorities, and survival was at the top of the list.
Lila watched Rafe go with an unexpected sense of loss. The first time non-fae witnessed a display of her green magic, it inspired awe in some and fear in others. The power eclipsed Lila herself in their minds. Ever after, she was just a vessel for her spells.
Rafe wasn’t exactly on her side, but since they’d met, she felt Rafe had seen her . Warmth kindled inside her like a tiny glowing star. She wished it meant more—could mean more—than it did.
Galeeta waited until the doors closed behind the wolf and his two guards. Then she made a sweeping gesture that captured the leafy room. “A fine job with the vines. Not all fae manage so well after living in the city. Their magic grows weak. Some say it’s the bad air, or the amount of technology spewing out harmful vibrations.”
“I’m not sure that’s a thing,” Lila said.
Galeeta gave a delicate shrug. “It doesn’t matter. What’s important is that the power in House Fernblade runs strong. That will matter to Lord Farras.”
“Why? He’s known our family forever.”
“Our houses were meant to be joined, if you recall.”
Lila kept her features still, but her dislike must have shown anyhow.
Her mother gave a sympathetic smile. “I know you’re not fond of him, but he is an important ally.”
“So you said.”
“We’re an old house, and the power proves it. The king has no heirs. With houses like ours supporting Farras, he has a legitimate claim to succession.”
Lila froze where she stood, wary of the direction this was taking. “We are more than the magic in our veins. ”
Galeeta didn’t reply for a moment, but strolled between the tables, her hands clasped before her. “I think you may need a few more tables. I understand Lord Farras is bringing two hundred with him, although half of those will be servants and guards. I suppose we’ll have to make one of the glades into a parking lot, although I can’t be sure how they’re traveling.”
Lila heaved a heavy sigh. “Please don’t change the subject.”
Galeeta frowned, the expression there and gone like a thunderclap. “We want Lord Farras to owe us favors. Think of your father.”
“Of course.” Lila felt a conversational trap opening wide. “And I am quite willing to put on a meal and air his bedchamber, but that is all. I have no interest in getting to know him. Remember that.”
Galeeta raised her hands in a gesture of exasperation. “Must you be so difficult?”
“Whatever you think of the city, I have a life there. One I like.”
“Fae need their people around them.”
“I can live well enough on my own. But I’m not alone. I’m surrounded by co-workers, neighbors, people of all kinds.”
“Humans,” Galeeta said darkly.
“And others. I’ve made friends. Think about it, even Sala lives in the city, and she was the ultimate fae princess.”
Her mother put a gentle hand on Lila’s shoulder. “Sala never forgets who she is. She asked you to come here at my request.”
Lila drew back, confused. “She said Ademar was in trouble and needed me to find him.”
Galeeta smiled.
“Are you saying that was a trick? What about the vampires who knocked on her door?”
Her mother’s smile faded. “I did not invent the vampires. But I need you here for this visit, and so we found a way to nudge you. And it turned out Ademar did need you here, so we weren’t wrong. ”
“We? Who is we?”
Her mother reached out to touch Lila’s shoulder again but drew back at Lila’s flinch. Galeeta clasped her hands together instead. “I rarely ask you for anything. I really need you to cooperate now.”
Lila studied her mother, seeing strain in the line of her shoulders and the set of her jaw. With a kind of amazement, she realized her mother was afraid.
Galeeta had never balked at anything, ever. She was as cool as glacial snow. What had changed that?
What would happen if Lila refused?