Chapter 41
WE LEFT THE Hollow Court—and my stomach—far below.
I completely forgot about our destination, focused solely on not throwing up. Accidentally puking on Soren might shock him into dropping me.
The thunderous beating of wings filled the cold air, which whooshed past us.
It made my eyes burn and my cheeks numb.
In the dark, I could just barely make out the silhouette of Alaric holding Olive to one side. Thankfully, he seemed like the kind of guy who would choose duty over dropping someone he didn’t like, but I obviously couldn’t be 100 percent sure.
The others could’ve been ahead or behind for all I knew. All I could make out were a few black shapes blotting out the softly twinkling stars in the night sky and the rapidly fading light of the Hollow Court below.
I shivered in the winter air, missing my coat, which I’d left behind somewhere in Lore’s room.
Soren tucked me into him tighter.
The warmth of his throat against my bare cheek did a great job distracting me from the brisk wind.
Dad, Rissa, and Olive were probably freezing too. I could’ve sworn the Alaric-sized shape on one side picked up speed, moving ahead of us.
Maybe he was in a hurry, or maybe he’d felt Olive’s shivers too and wasn’t totally awful.
We traveled this way for what felt like hours but was probably less than twenty minutes.
The trip got so miserable that I didn’t care where we landed anymore, as long as we could get some relief from the biting wind. When lights appeared in the distance, I clenched my teeth to keep them from chattering and prayed that was our destination.
It didn’t occur to me until we were much closer that the lights were far too high. Taller than any city skyscraper I’d ever seen.
“Hey,” I yelled in Soren’s ear, getting his attention. “You watch out for planes up here, right?”
In the dark, I couldn’t make out his expression, but he laughed. “That’s not one of your human airplanes.”
“Oh . . .”
As we drew closer, I glanced over my shoulder again, and my eyes widened.
It wasn’t one light. It was dozens . . . maybe hundreds. And while one of them shone extra bright, like a beacon for the fliers, others were sprinkled across what looked like a mountainside. They were fires.
In the firelight, tiny fae figures moved about in the distance.
“You all live on top of the mountain?” I whispered to myself, too quietly for Soren to hear over the wind. I’d expected a village in a valley beside the mountains, not carved directly into the stony peak.
The tiny fae grew larger as we approached. Different-sized structures dotted the mountainside, some camouflaged so well that I didn’t see them until the third or fourth glance. All kinds of folk surrounded the fires on various mountain ledges.
But we didn’t aim for those.
Soren and the others flapped their huge wings, lifting us higher, carrying us straight up the side of the mountain toward that brightest beacon far above.
My ears popped, and the air thinned, making it hard to breathe.
A towering black castle was built directly into the rocky face of the mountain itself, with tall brightly lit windows and a balcony that stretched out into thin air.
When Soren’s feet hit the hard stone of the balcony, my whole body felt the impact.
Carefully, I peeled shaky legs from around his waist and tried to stand, but between the thin air at this altitude and my delayed panic, I couldn’t quite catch my breath. My leg muscles trembled, adding to my shakiness.
Soren seemed to sense this, keeping his arms wrapped around me. After a few more breaths, though, when things stopped spinning, I realized he wasn’t entirely stable himself.
“What’s wrong?” I whispered.
He gave me a self-deprecating grin. “I haven’t flown in almost seven years. I underestimated how weak those muscles would be by now.”
As Alaric set Olive carefully on the ground beside us, he grumbled to Soren, “You’re the prince. You shouldn’t have carried anyone.”
Soren took his complaint in stride but didn’t apologize.
Slowly, I took in the stone balcony, which was the size of a small ballroom, twisting around to get a better look. Soren’s arms tightened reflexively around me.
In the center, only a few feet away, stood a roaring fire in a raised pit.
It burned away the chill from our time in the air.
In the heat of the flames, the sharp winter air shifted from being painful to oddly refreshing.
Or, considering how high up and exposed we were, maybe some magic kept the harsh wind at bay.
Bright stars shone down, seeming closer than usual.
“So . . . you’re a prince?” I said as I turned back to look up at him, then cringed at how that sounded. “I mean, of course you are. It’s just, you seem so . . . normal.” Ugh, Brynn, seriously? Way to dig a deeper hole.
But Soren grinned when I covered my face, finally letting go of my waist to pull my hands down.
“Since your only experience with princes so far has been Caius, I’m going to take that as a compliment.
” His smile faded. “I’m not nearly as important as you might think, however.
I have four older siblings in line for the throne, along with any children they might have, before I’d ever be considered to rule. ”
The doors to the dark castle burst open. More winged fae flooded out.
“I suppose it was too much to hope he wouldn’t notice my return,” Soren muttered to Alaric, who scoffed but didn’t say anything else.
At first, I registered only a blur of fancy gowns and fae ensembles that glittered with gemstones and layers that fluttered wildly in the wind.
The first few fae wore weapons and stiff postures like guards, but the fae who strode out behind them looked exactly like the portrait back in Soren’s room.
I couldn’t distinguish which might be king or queen, prince or princess, when six of them wore crowns, but they all flowed out to greet us.
Though based on their expressions, that might be too nice a word.
Lore stepped forward. “Perhaps we should take Brynn’s family to the infirmary for someone to take a look at them?” she whispered to Soren. “It might be wise to make sure their time in the Hollow Court didn’t lead to any unknown injuries.”
Though her excuse made sense, her eyes flitted to the royal family approaching and back with more unspoken reasons, almost like she was offering to get them out of sight.
“I will help,” Alaric surprised me by saying, giving Olive a brief glance and dipping his head in a bow to the prince. “If I may.”
Soren gave them both a nod. “Go. Quickly.”
Peregrin led the way, with Julian close on his heels, while Lore hung back.
But the royal entourage approaching made escape impossible. Instead of slipping past, they were forced to bow. Even Dad, Rissa, and Olive bowed, copying Alaric and the others with confused expressions.
“I can take you as well, Brynn,” Lore murmured under her breath as we bowed also. “Or if you’d prefer to stay, I promise not to leave their sides.”
Soren ripped his eyes from the impending conflict and managed a nod to me. “Whatever you’d prefer.”
Though he put on a brave front, he looked a little green. Glancing between him and my family, I hesitated.
“Why are you here? And why have you brought humans?” a male fae yelled across the space to us—no, to Soren.
I flinched back.
Behind the king’s back, Alaric quietly urged everyone on toward the castle, and Lore hurried after them.
They disappeared behind the doors.
My heart rate ratcheted up at the sight of them leaving after I’d only just found them.
But I’d lost my chance to go with, or say anything at all, really, pinned under the glare of the Shadow Court king.
Soren reached out and tugged me back into his chest, wrapping a protective arm around me. “That’s my father, King Roth,” he told me quietly as they reached us. “And my mother, directly behind him, along with my three elder brothers and sister.”
The king wore the tallest crown on his head of long blond hair, along with a cruel expression on his face. His gaze had caught on Soren’s arm around me. He strode closer, ignoring the others completely, as he repeated sternly, “There are humans in my court.”
“I’m aware,” Soren said dryly. “I’m the one who brought them.”
“Are you trying to embarrass us?” he hissed at his son. “Bringing this race of mortals into our home? Why have you returned?”
His tone made me want to shrink back. Come on, Brynn, I chastised myself. Enough caring what someone else thinks. I straightened my shoulders and stood tall.
“Brynn and her family are my personal guests,” Soren said in a sharp tone, clearly setting some sort of boundary.
Through the cold reception as no one else spoke, Soren’s sister subtly smiled and wiggled a few fingers at me in greeting.
The king strode closer, stopping less than a foot from me and Soren.
He gave me a cursory glance before turning his irritated gaze on his youngest son.
“You do not live here. Therefore, you cannot have guests. Go back to the Hollow Court before everyone hears you tucked tail and left.” He turned as if the conversation was over.
No hugs or “stay for dinner” or “good to see you.” Just “leave.”
“I’m not going back,” Soren told him flatly. The lack of inflection made me glance at his face. The words “diplomatic hostage” came back to me as I looked between him and the glaring king. He’d said his father had sent him. This was the fae who’d let him lose his wings without a second thought.
I couldn’t stand seeing Soren treated that way.
He didn’t deserve it.
Not after everything he’d done for me.
I straightened my spine, knowing I’d probably regret this, and stepped out of Soren’s arms to speak into the tense silence.
“Why would you want him to live there?” Sure enough, all eyes swung to me.
I swallowed my nerves and pushed on. “If you cared about him at all, you wouldn’t even ask. They’re horrible to him.”
Soren stiffened beside me, and I worried that I’d overstepped.
When I risked a glance at him, his expression was awestruck, as if no one had ever spoken up for him before.
In the long drawn-out silence that followed my proclamation, it occurred to me that I probably should’ve bowed or addressed the king as “Your Highness” or something.
Oops.
But the king returned his attention to Soren, not deigning to speak to me directly. It seemed my words had absolutely no impact. “I expect you to return immediately.”
A muscle feathered in Soren’s jaw, but his voice remained calm. “I ended my contract with the Hollow Court. There’s no going back.”
The queen reached out to place a hand on the king’s tense shoulder. “He spent years there, Rothwart. We received many of the benefits we’d hoped for during that time.”
The king shrugged her hand off, spitting out the words, “It could’ve lasted a century. He’s ruined all my plans.” Turning away, he added over his shoulder, “Now I’ll have to find a new task to keep him occupied.”
“I’m done with doing whatever you want,” Soren called out, stopping the king and everyone around them in their tracks.
Before his father could lose it, the way his rising color said he was about to, Soren added, “I discovered a misuse of the veil crossing during my time in the Hollow Court that I wish to address.”
Briefly, the king seemed intrigued. “Misuse?”
“Humans are entering contracts in ignorance. For life.”
King Roth spat on the ground. “Why should I care what happens to some mortals?”
“Perhaps, Father, we should hear him out?” a younger version of the king, with similar long blond hair and a serious expression, said in a calmer tone.
As the king turned to face this prince, Soren murmured under his breath to me, “That’s my eldest brother. Killian.”
Eldest, huh? That’d make him the future Shadow Court king.
“Explain yourself,” King Roth told Soren with an arch of his brow, as if the concession were his idea.
“You may not care about the plight of humans,” Soren replied, like he was used to his father’s dismissive behavior, “but you should be concerned to hear how many contracts the Hollow Court owns. Can you imagine what they plan to do with hundreds of mortals? At the very least, it will hinder the Shadow Court.”
“Hundreds, you say?”
“At my last count, over four hundred. Though I made it my personal mission to cut that number in half before I left.”
“I’m impressed.” The cunning gleam in his father’s eye made me wonder if the Shadow Court king had misinterpreted Soren’s words to mean that he’d killed them.
Maybe Soren had left it ambiguous on purpose.
“I suppose it would be detrimental to our court if they didn’t keep the balance.
I wouldn’t want King Mordeus to think he had an advantage over us. ”
With that, a pleasant expression finally touched his face, and he nodded as if it were settled. “Carry on, then.”
The king led the group of royals away without another word to Soren.
The heir—Prince Killian, if I remembered right—didn’t immediately follow. Only when the king’s entourage had returned inside did he step forward. Clapping a hand on Soren’s shoulder, he quietly said, “Wise decision.”
Though Soren’s reaction was almost imperceptible, I caught the rise of his brows and widening of his eyes.
Then the prince turned to me, tilting his head slightly, as if unsure how to deal with me, though he wasn’t shunning me outright, at least.
“Nice to meet you?” I offered into the silence.
His lips quirked briefly. He gave me a nod. “Likewise.” Turning, he left without another word.
He made quiet Soren look like a chatterbox.
Someone pushed through the crowd at the door, calling out, “Brynn? Brynn!”
I gasped.
Though the light out here was dim, it lit up her hands over her mouth in a sob as she ran toward me. The red robe that she’d disappeared in was long gone, replaced by an emerald dress that turned her auburn hair vibrant in the firelight, emphasizing her pale skin and graceful limbs.
“Mom!” I ran toward her.
As we drew close, though, she slowed, hesitating. She reached a timid hand up to her hair, almost as if fighting the urge to pull it down over the sharp points of her ears.
The ears she must’ve glamoured to hide from me my whole life. From all of us.
But I didn’t care. It didn’t even matter.
I’d finally found her.
My vision blurred, and my voice cracked, as I whispered, “Mom!”