Chapter 38
WHEN WE REACHED the stairs that led to the thrones, the guards allowed us to pass, but only after the attendant—a different one than last time—verified my name. They didn’t protest when Soren and the others followed me up the stairs, thankfully.
Only one of the thrones was occupied, by King Mordeus. As we scaled the stairs, though, Caius sauntered out from a hidden door in the shadows. Of course the royal family had a second hidden entrance.
When the prince’s eyes met mine, he smirked, and either I saw through his facade more clearly now or he wasn’t nearly as friendly.
Behind me, Soren whispered to Lore, “I really hoped he’d be back by now so we wouldn’t need to go through with this.”
Does he mean Peregrin? I turned to give him a quizzical look over my shoulder. What did he mean by “wouldn’t need to go through with this”? But Soren’s mask of indifference was firmly in place.
“Brynn Donovan,” King Mordeus said. But his voice boomed as if magnified, and my whole body flinched.
Did he sound like this with everyone when they reached the top, or was he magically amplifying his speech?
Glancing back at the court below, my shoulders tensed.
Every single pair of eyes had turned to face us.
We definitely had an audience. I wanted to throw up.
Caius dropped casually into the throne beside his father, leveling me with a bored gaze, but didn’t speak.
“I’ve heard disturbing reports regarding your family connections,” the king declared after a long pause where only the shuffling of plates and whispers below filled it.
“Oh?” I said, ever so eloquently.
I blinked, then blinked again, and again. I probably looked like I had something in my eye.
Sweat poured out of me. It soaked my borrowed shirt beneath the leather top. They could probably see.
The king let the awkward silence linger—whether for dramatic effect or to make me cave and tell the truth, I couldn’t say.
His stare sucked the oxygen out of the room.
Oops, never mind. That was my fault. I’d forgotten to breathe.
Soren’s arm brushed mine.
The subtle pressure helped ground me. I leaned into his warmth slightly, grateful for his help, and put on my bravest face.
Pretty sure I still trembled, but it was the best I could do.
“I’m told the Grimhollow clan wants the heads of the fae who took your mother’s family,” the king finally stated, loud enough for all nearby members of the court to hear.
Wow. I definitely hadn’t said that.
The lie had expanded and transformed like that kids’ game of “telephone,” where the whispers somehow stretched in the telling and grew bigger than the original. In this case, though, it had really worked in my favor.
“I obviously can’t say for sure,” I told him, trying to sound respectful and ignore the prince in the corner of my vision. “But you know the Grimhollow reputation.” That last bit had been Soren’s idea. Let their ruthless honor speak for itself.
We’d drawn quite a crowd already, but this statement had nearby folk waving down fellow fae from a distance.
Soren cleared his throat.
Right, he’d said when the time came to bring up my family, I shouldn’t hesitate. If he thought it was a good time, it must be.
“I think a simple solution would be to release them from their contracts,” I began.
But Caius interrupted, “We won’t be doing that.”
I opened and closed my mouth like a fish. I turned to Soren, who gave me a reassuring look before dipping his chin in the direction of the king—a subtle reminder of who was really in charge. Right.
I tried again, “It would be in everyone’s best interest to end their contracts, since it’s only three humans.”
This time, though, King Mordeus dropped his palm down on the arm of his throne with a slap that sounded throughout court like a gavel. “I’m inclined to agree with my son. There’s something strange about this entire situation. Even the toddy has agreed.”
I pressed my lips together.
Soren was right. Toddy wobbles really were the worst.
“More importantly,” Caius said in a smug tone, “if the Grimhollow clan truly cared about their pathetic little humans, they’d already be here by now.”
The king nodded his agreement. He opened his mouth, looking ready to call for the next court petitioner.
I swallowed.
Time to do whatever it took.
Soren wrapped his fingers around my wrist like he sensed I was about to do something crazy, but I ignored him. “I’ll make a bargain with you for them,” I called out.
Caius sneered at me. “With what? Your life? That’s all you have to offer. And I’d hardly exchange three hardworking humans for one.”
My heart sank.
I desperately tried to think of something else I could offer.
But Caius was right.
I had nothing.
A roaring sound flooded my ears, drowning out the rest of the court, growing louder.
Was this what a panic attack felt like?
I blinked back tears, trying to control my emotions. I didn’t want to melt down in public and give Caius the satisfaction.
But as my vision cleared, I realized the roaring was coming from outside my body. And it was getting closer. Surrounding fae were starting to look up, including Caius and the king.
The sound evolved into a thunderous flapping of wings.
Huge wings.
They blocked out the stars in the night sky above.
I wasn’t quite sure what I was seeing at first, but as they drew closer, I made out at least a dozen winged fae wearing grim expressions and full-body armor with sharp spikes along the arms and shoulders.
A high-pitched scream came from somewhere in the crowd as the winged fae landed heavily on an unseen magical barrier above us. It shimmered under their feet but otherwise stayed invisible.
“Let us in,” one of the huge warriors called in a gruff tone. It carried through the barrier clear as day.
Nearby folk took a few huge steps back. Some turned tail and ran.
“I’d like a guarantee you come in peace first,” King Mordeus called back. He and his son didn’t move from their thrones, but I noted Caius’s fingers turning white from his grip on the armrest, and his father subtly summoned at least a dozen more guards to surround them.
Soren, on the other hand, moved all of us to the side of the wide stage and into the shadows where Caius had stood earlier, as if to give them room to land.
Above, the fae leader bent one knee to better glare down at the king. “Unless you want the guarantee of a battle, you’ll have to risk it.”
Though the king visibly paled, he nodded and lifted a hand.
Without warning, the group of warriors fell through into court, wings flying open to soften their fall, though they still hit the landing and the stairs with a heavy thud.
When they shifted into formation, it revealed one of them carrying—
“Wait . . .” I turned to Soren, eyes widening. “Is that Peregrin?”
“Indeed it is,” Soren replied with a wide grin, not looking surprised in the slightest.
His words came back to me when he’d talked about Peregrin earlier. His task. Taking longer. And then what he’d said a few minutes ago: I really hoped he’d be back by now . . .
He meant Peregrin!
Audible gasps came from the folk below as the warriors spread out across the top of the stage and the stairs, taking up defensive positions in an organized triangle shape.
Lore and Julian didn’t seem quite as relaxed as Soren, but they each waved at Peregrin, where he’d been set down beside one of the winged fae, until they caught his attention.
He gave them a grin and a tiny wave back.
“You planned this, didn’t you?” I whispered to Soren, then stopped. “No, better question: What’s happening right now? Are we under attack?”
“Not at the moment,” Soren replied unhelpfully.
The army of winged fae, with their impressive shoulder plates and buckles, watched as their leader stepped forward, lowering his head in a slight bow to King Mordeus.
“Who are they?” I whispered.
But they answered my question before Soren could, as the leader straightened up and formally introduced himself to everyone in range. “My name is Alaric Fenewyn. I and the rest of the Grimhollow clan request an audience with the Hollow Court king.”