Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
ALLERIA
All eyes are fixed on the dark archway where Vel, Brael, and Kaelith disappeared a few minutes ago.
They’re so still, they could be statues.
They don’t shift their weight or check their weapons, or do any of the small, unconscious movements a human does when they’re nervous.
They simply wait. I can barely see their chests moving as they breathe.
I want to ask what they’re waiting for, what they think might be inside. I don’t. I stay quiet and listen to the sea throwing itself against the cliffs, and the tinkling of water from the fountain.
When Vel reappears in the archway, she doesn’t speak. She gives a single, sharp nod, and goes back inside. Around me the tension holding the Guard breaks. Shoulders ease. A few of them smile. Even the air seems lighter.
Vessara turns to me. “Welcome to Nightward.” Her hand finds my elbow and guides me forward.
I’m not sure what I expect to find inside. Dust on the floor, maybe? Cobwebs covering everything? It’s been at least three centuries since the Nightwild Guard was here. If it was a human castle, it would be a ruin by now.
That isn’t what I find.
The entrance hall beyond the archway is huge, with a ceiling so high it’s lost to the shadows. Sconces line the walls at regular intervals, each one glowing with a light too steady to be candles or oil lamps.
I stop a couple of feet inside.
The floor beneath my feet is black stone, polished smooth, with silver running through it in thin, uneven lines. The same pale striations cover the walls, catching the sconce lights, and making them look almost alive.
A long table stands against one wall, with twelve goblets arranged in a semi-circle around two large silver jugs on top of it. Bowls of fruit sit on either end. The fruit looks fresh. The goblets are clean.
Whoever set them out either knew we were coming … or has spent all these years keeping the place ready for a return that might never happen.
A staircase rises ahead of us, splitting halfway up into two curved flights that disappear into separate archways.
More passages lead off from the sides of the hall.
Some are wide and open. Others are narrow enough that only one person could pass through at a time.
The only doors I can see are on the opposite side of the hall, with fresh flowers in tall vases on either side.
Banners hang on every wall, their dark fabric stitched with what appears to be coats of arms. None of them follow the rules I know.
There are no royal lions, crossed swords, or crowns worked into neat patterns.
These are strange. A silver wave beneath a black moon.
A thorned circle. A blade curved like a claw. None of them mean anything to me.
There isn’t any sign of dust or cobwebs anywhere. This hall doesn’t look like it’s ever been abandoned.
Maybe servants live here?
Does the Nightwild Guard even have servants?
“It’s not …” I look around. “I thought only the Guard lived here, but—”
“Nightward isn’t empty.” Caelum’s voice is quiet beside me. His gaze moves across the hall, and some of the tension leaves his face. “It never has been.”
“But you’ve been gone for centuries.”
“And the brownies stayed.” His expression turns faintly amused.
“They’re known as Lesser Fae. They tend to the keep, clean and mend anything that requires it, and keep the gardens.
They would never leave Nightward, and if anyone tried to force them, they would be deeply offended.
” He gives a quiet laugh. “No one wants to offend a brownie, trust me.”
“Where are they?” I look closer at one of the banners on the wall. “I don’t see anyone.”
“You won’t. Not unless they wish to show themselves to you. They live in the walls, beneath the floors, in the quiet places. They’re shy, but they’ve been loyal to the Nightwild Guard and to Nightward itself for thousands of years.”
“Thousands of …” I turn to face him. “How old is this place?”
“Nightward has belonged to Cairn for a long time.”
That isn’t a clear answer. I press for more. “What does that mean? The keep is thousands of years old or you are?”
“Both. We’re a long-lived race, Alleria. I thought you knew that.”
“I did … I do … but thousands of years?”
“Time doesn’t have the same meaning for us as it does for humans. We age at a much slower rate.”
Vessara’s hand settles on my shoulder. “As much as I hate to break up this history lesson, I am eager to go to my rooms and reacquaint myself with my bed for a while before Cairn and Therin return and we have to—” She looks at me.
“That’s a discussion for much later, once we’re all rested.
First, we need to find the perfect quarters for Alleria. ”
“Perfect?”
That sounds ominous.
“It has to be the right match, Alleria.” Caelum laughs at my confused expression. “You have so much to learn. But like Vessara said, that’s something to be dealt with later.” He leaves me with that deeply unhelpful answer, and walks off toward the staircase.
That’s when I realize the hall is empty other than me and Vessara.
“Where did everyone go?”
“We’re home, Alleria.” Her gaze drifts across the hall. “Three hundred years is a long time to spend believing you’ve lost something forever.”
She turns toward the staircase. “Come with me.”
I follow her up the stairs. Where they split, Vessara takes the left, and walks through the archway into a wide, high-ceiling passage. It curves instead of running straight, not sharply, but enough that the far end is hidden from view.
Tall narrow windows break up the wall on one side, set back in deep alcoves with stone benches built beneath them.
Padded cushions are placed on top in vivid colors and patterns.
The glass of the windows is thick but clear, allowing the light from the violet, sunless sky to spill through across the floor.
Doors line the opposite wall. Some are painted wood, others seem to be carved from stone. One has no visible seam until we pass it, and the edge catches the light. Back in Shentari, every door was uniform. Thick wood, stained dark brown, with brass handles polished regularly by the servants.
“Why are they all so different?”
“Because we are. Humans may try to force conformity in their structures. But fae embrace our differences. The keep makes room for all of us, no matter what we are or how we look. Our private quarters always match who we are at heart.”
“Ah, here we are.” She stops outside a door near the end of the passage. The wood is a vivid purple, with gold filigree around its outer edge. At its center an eye is surrounded by a starburst pattern. When I look closer, the gold lines of the filigree move, becoming thorny vines.
The handle turns without Vessara touching it, and it swings open silently.
“This is yours. At least until Cairn arrives. He might have other plans.” She stands to one side.
“I should just go inside?” I eye the darkness beyond the door.
“Nothing is going to harm you inside this room, Alleria. The keep has given you these quarters. Everything inside it is there to make you comfortable and safe … which is why you need to enter first.”
I take a cautious step forward, and light fills the room. It’s larger than my bedchamber in my father’s palace.
The ceiling arches high overhead, in the same dark pale-veined stone as the rest of the keep. The metallic lines catch the light from the sconces set high on the walls.
Tall windows fill one entire wall, giving me a view that takes my breath away. A balcony waits on the other side of the glass, edged by metal railings twisted into the shape of creatures I don’t recognize.
A window seat is set into the wall beneath the windows, lined with soft cushions, and to the left I think I can see the shape of a door cut into the glass leading out to the balcony.
I tear my gaze away from the view and take in the rest of the room.
A hearth stands at the center of the inner wall, with deep chairs on either side.
The chairs look as if they’ve just been arranged.
One is angled so whoever sits there can see the view outside while still speaking to anyone opposite.
The cushions on the window seat look freshly plumped.
A fire is already burning, casting a warm glow over the room.
A low table between the chairs holds a slender vase of vibrant blue and red flowers, a steam jug, a bowl of fruit, and a plate of bread, cheese, and cold meats.
There isn’t a single thing out of place. This room was ready before I opened the door.
“The brownies?”
Vessara laughs. “Yes, the brownies.” She steps inside, ushering me further into the room.
“They are very skilled at understanding what someone needs without asking a single question. And they listen, so if you need something that isn’t here already, just speak it out loud and it will be brought to you.
” She gestures toward an arched doorway in the far wall.
“The bedchamber is through there. Your bathing room is beyond it.”
She crosses to one of the chairs by the hearth, and sits. I join her, sinking into the soft cushions with a grateful sigh.
“There are some things you need to know before I leave you to rest.” She leans forward and pours the steaming liquid from the jug into the two goblets and hands me one.
“This is … a tea of sorts. I’m not sure what humans would call it.
But it’s refreshing and warm, and the brownies seem to think you might like it.
” She takes a sip, then waits for me to do the same.
Flavor explodes on my tongue. Nothing I recognize, but sweet and sharp at the same time. It warms me from the inside when I swallow, and I relax deeper into the chair.
“Nightward is a fae keep. It belongs to Cairn, and through him the Guard, but we aren’t the only ones who live here. There are the brownies, as you’ve already learned. But there are other … things.”
“Things? Not fae?”