Chapter 18
CHAPTER 18
L ila left the guest chambers and slipped through the halls of the way station, not entirely sure where she wanted to go. The temptation to simply leave the way station was strong, but that would leave too much unresolved. Plus, she suspected she’d end up like Sala, with unwelcome visitors on her doorstep. Breaking free of this drama required more than a hasty exit.
She didn’t have much time. Sunlight pooled on the polished wood floors, indicating the morning was well advanced. A few more servants in gray livery passed by, no doubt preparing for the lord’s entourage. She hoped they’d brought plenty of supplies. Way stations were capable of adding rooms and even entire wings as needed without changing the boundaries of its footprint. Even so, if her mother’s estimate of 200 guests was correct, their store cupboards would be stretched to the limit.
She passed another group of servants, these carrying travel bags. It would take time to get everyone settled, and she was certain Lord Farras would not arrive until the initial chaos was over.
That still didn’t give her a clear idea of timelines. The most sophisticated travel magic could bend time and space to cut distances, creating roads that existed beyond the normal realm. Likewise, the king’s private domain—Gilden Wood—was in a fold of reality only fae could enter. The gateway and the path that led to it were carefully hidden from mortal eyes.
Lord Farras was capable of treading at least some of those secret byways, which meant he could arrive at any point. Lila might only have a few hours to decide how to deal with his presence and her family’s expectations.
She’d barely finished that thought when she heard Ademar’s angry voice coming from the second-floor sitting room where she’d played question and answer with their mother. Curious, Lila turned in that direction.
“I don’t care,” Ademar was saying. “The rewards of this game are high, but the stakes are too great. There is only so much damage this family can endure.”
“There is greater risk in sitting idle,” her mother replied. “You know that as well as I do.”
The door to the sitting room banged shut, cutting off sound. With a glance over her shoulder to ensure there were no onlookers, Lila drew closer to the room. She loathed the idea of eavesdropping, and yet something told her this was a conversation she couldn’t afford to ignore. She pressed her ear to the smooth wood of the door.
“Sala’s been threatened. I’ve been injured. Where does this end?” Ademar asked, his voice hard. “I just had a conversation with Lila that gives me no comfort. I revile myself for taking part in it.”
Lila inhaled sharply. Was that what had brought him here? A troubled conscience? Her stomach twisted, regret mixing with bitter anger. If only he’d shared his thoughts instead of bullying her, but he’d never been one to make his own decisions.
A long pause followed before her mother spoke. “You only did what I asked. We can’t afford to lose courage now. There is something afoot in this place.”
Ademar gave a short laugh. “You keep saying that, and still I’ve seen nothing.”
“You arrived here too late for that. So did I.” Galeeta’s voice faded, as if she were pacing farther away. “We did not witness any crime, though I know one occurred, and more are coming.”
“Based on what?”
“We are not like humans. They need evidence typed on a form. We can read the signs.”
“Like what?” Ademar demanded, impatience sharp in his tone.
“Unexplained graves,” Galeeta replied, “trespassing Undead, and rumors that the Magician has passed this way. What more is required to rouse your curiosity?”
“What more indeed, before we find ourselves in an unmarked grave? I can’t afford to indulge in speculation. I’m less concerned with imaginary crimes than offending a powerful lord who will be here by sunset.”
“And why would he be offended?” her mother’s voice sharpened. “We are doing what he asks.”
“You’re planning to lure him into a trap.”
“It’s necessary.” Her mother heaved an explosive sigh. “I will surrender my own life before I give up my family’s safety.”
Ademar’s voice rose. “But that’s exactly what you risk. We are already half our number.”
“I don’t have a choice. We’ve lost too much to walk away. With the right throw of the dice, we could be whole again.”
“Lila and I are not your game pieces. We did not consent to be used as bait.”
The uneven sound of Ademar’s footsteps and cane approached the door. Lila shrank away, her cheeks heating with embarrassment. She didn’t want to be caught listening at the keyhole, but she refused to run like a guilty schoolgirl.
The heavy door flung open, crashing into the wall. Lila jumped at the noise, falling back another step as Ademar swept past as fast as his injury would allow. Anything she might have said shriveled at his stormy expression.
He vanished in the direction of his chambers, giving no sign that he’d even noticed she was there. Lila shifted uncertainly from foot to foot, the wake of his anger like a scent in the air.
The brass door handle had left a dent where it smashed into the wall. Lila fingered the damage, wondering at the force of Ademar’s rage. He’d called them both game pieces. What exactly had he meant?
Her mother’s steps sounded from inside the room. She was pacing like a frustrated cat, back and forth across the polished floor.
Lila pressed her palm to the wood, covering the damage the handle had left. Magic surged beneath her hand, warm and smooth. It only took a whisper of power to heal every flaw. When she pulled her hand away, the panel showed no trace of what had happened.
Her mother had appeared at Lila’s elbow, startling her. Lila stifled a curse.
“Very good,” Galeeta said. “Thank you.”
“It’s nothing,” Lila replied. “I do this at work all the time.”
It was true. She designed and built places—homes, galleries, commercial spaces—much the way Farras had created the way station from living wood. Except, of course, hers didn’t include prison cells, and she understood the use of colors beyond black and white.
She looked away from her handiwork and met her mother’s eyes. “Shall we talk?”
Apprehension flickered over Galeeta’s face—she was no doubt tired of arguing with her children—but she gestured for Lila to enter the room. “Please.”
Lila fell into step beside her, stopping only when she reached the windows at the far side of the chamber. The view was a river of emerald forest under a clear blue sky.
Lila put her back to it to face her mother. “What’s going on? I know there’s more than a simple banquet afoot. Give me respect enough to tell the truth.”
Her mother glanced aside as if unwilling to meet Lila’s eyes. “Lord Farras sent you a gift. His courier brought it earlier today.”
Crossing to a side table, she picked up a cube-shaped box about eight inches across. It was fashioned from pale oak wood deeply carved with leaves and vines.
Lila accepted it reluctantly. “I heard you arguing with Ademar. He accused you of using us as bait.”
Her mother cast her a sharp look. “Open your gift before you decide anything. You might change your mind about Lord Farras.”
Frowning, Lila balanced the box in one hand and released the brass clasp with the other. The lid sprang open to reveal a lining of padded azure silk. On a velvet cushion of the same hue sat a pair of hair combs glittering with gems. Lila’s stomach knotted with anxiety.
The box alone was worth more than Lila’s bank balance. The combs must have cost a king’s ransom. This was no casual reward for putting on a nice party. The lord definitely wanted something from her.
She snapped the lid shut and carefully placed the box back on the table. “I won’t accept anything from Farras.”
Galeeta made an exasperated sound. “What has he done to you, one fae to another, to earn such animosity?”
A small spark of surprise made Lila straighten. Despite her clear dislike of the lord, it was the first time her mother had asked the question. “What does it matter to you?”
Galeeta’s expression softened. “You’re my daughter. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know. ”
Lila hesitated, wanting to push back but knowing it would get them nowhere. With some misgivings, she opted for a plain answer. “Do you remember the time we visited the castle in Gilden Wood? The first time, when King Elroth was in residence?”
“You were about ten,” her mother replied, folding her arms over her stomach. “I remember the jester scared you. What was his name?”
“Bronkin.” He’d been a twisted, half-mad creature, less a clown than a vengeful imp lurking behind Elroth’s throne. Spiteful and cruel to anything weaker than himself, it was as if the jester had been distilled from every dark impulse of the faery court.
“That’s right,” her mother said. “He liked to leap out from behind the tapestries and startle the servants.”
“He bit them.”
“So he did. He tried biting one of the king’s mastiffs once, but only once.”
Lila grimaced. Years later, she’d heard one of the courtiers had finally run Bronkin through with their sword. No one had objected.
“My story actually starts with the jester,” Lila said. “He chased me down the castle hall and threatened to feed me to the pigs. I ran out through the kitchen and into the stables to hide. Bronkin didn’t like the big warhorses because they’d kick him if he got near.”
Her mother grew still, her expression intent. “And then?”
“I barely reached the stalls when I heard one of the horses whinny—not in greeting but with a sound of pain.” Lila closed her eyes, remembering the sweet scent of hay and dusty earth. It had been the height of summer. “I ran closer, and I saw Lord Farras with a stick. Not a crop or a riding whip, but a heavy piece of wood. He was screaming at this beautiful chestnut mare. She’d thrown him off when she refused to jump a fence. ”
“He pushed his horses hard,” her mother said softly. “Quite a few were injured when he raced them across the countryside.”
Lila’s throat tightened at the memory. “He beat this animal until it was lamed. It wasn’t about the horse’s courage or its skill. This was about making it obey his will.”
“You shouldn’t have seen that. You were just a child.”
“It shouldn’t have happened. I was old enough to recognize an evil soul, and it terrified me. I huddled in the straw and cried until Rosemund and Arabelle came to take me back to the castle.”
The names felt odd on Lila’s tongue. The family rarely spoke of her lost sisters now.
“I healed that horse, you know,” Galeeta said with a half-smile. “Arabelle told me what had happened.”
“I didn’t know that,” Lila replied, a strange pressure in her chest. She couldn’t name what she felt. Gratitude? Astonishment? “Thank you.”
“Arabelle also told King Elroth. That’s why he gave you a pony to practice your riding that summer. He didn’t want your first experience of Gilden Wood to be spoiled.”
It had been a small horse rather than a true pony—a dainty white mare with a braided mane. Lila remembered the king’s kind smile, and how he’d gently shown her—in company with her older sisters—how to guide the animal over the forest trails. She hadn’t fully understood the rarity of such attention from a king until she was an adult. He’d gone far out of his way to calm the feelings of one small girl.
Her thoughts lingered in the past, remembering her sisters. They’d left to serve the May Queen as her ladies-in-waiting years before Lila struck out for the city. But not long after she started her design job, there had been word they’d disappeared without a trace. She’d joined in the long search for her sisters, along with the rest of House Fernblade. Even King Elroth had stepped in, sending aid, but the two girls had never been found.
Lila dragged her mind back to the present, glad to leave the past where it was. “That’s why I hate Farras. He’s unfit to dwell among other living creatures. I will thank Father to the end of my days for stopping any suggestion of marriage between us, and I do not understand why you’re encouraging him now.”
Her mother blinked. “There was a time when children accepted the plans of their betters without question.”
“Those days are over.” Lila took a deep breath to quiet her pounding pulse. She was hot and cold at once, her muscles rigid with tension. “I want to know why you’re involved in his affairs.”
Her mother’s shoulders sagged. Lila tried to read her expression, but Galeeta seemed to be seeing something in the distance. Her mother crossed to the chairs and sat down slowly, as if every joint hurt.
“Ademar told me that you would be stubborn,” Galeeta said. “That I would do far better to simply ask for your help.”
“He was right. And it would save time.”
“I’ve been trying to protect you. Protect us.” Her mother bent forward, putting her head in her hands. “The less you know, the safer you will be.”
Lila yearned to embrace her, but instinct told her to stand her ground. “I need to know everything, or I walk.”
Her mother looked up, her eyes bright with tears. “Then please don’t hate me for what I’ve done.”