Chapter 30
I stare at the man—no, the Fae—my eyes snagging on details I wish weren’t there.
The faint ripple of shadows under his boots. The inhuman shape of his ears. The subtle, yet loud, changes to his handsome features, lending him the otherworldly air all Fae seem to possess.
I blink once. Twice. Willing the sight in front of me to change.
But as much as it would make my life easier to believe this is some illusion, it’s not. This is real. The person the Fae dragged into the town hall is not, in fact, a rebel. Not a human one, at least.
Magic flows in my palms, giving off a defensive vibe, though still unable to rise from my skin.
Silas holds my gaze, eyes steady and expression neutral, as if he’s trying not to scare me.
Too late for that.
“You’re…” I lick my dry lips and then swallow the lump in my throat, pitching my voice lower. “You’re a—”
“Let’s not speak it aloud, shall we?” His eyes flick toward the corridor.
I pinch my lips together and slump against the wall, shaking my head, then murmur, “How?”
“Shadows, of course.” A dark cloud obscures him from sight.
When it clears, he once again looks like a beaten mortal. Dried blood crusts his temple. His clothes are torn and bloody.
“I…” More questions spin in my mind, none of which I can fathom an answer. “I don’t understand.”
Why would he remain trapped here for days, allowing himself to be beaten, when he has the ability to escape?
“It’s all part of a grand plan, sweet healer.” He flashes a smile. “Though I imagine your involvement has complicated matters for him greatly.”
“Him?” I shift, uncomfortable with the knowing gleam in his eyes. “Him who?”
“Apologies, my dear, but I cannot say. These stone walls have ears.”
As if on cue, the faintest sound of a muffled cough floats into the cell.
My focus snaps to the hall. It sounded like it came from behind a door, but it was still too close for comfort.
My heart pounds against my sternum.
The urge to learn more gnaws at me, warring with the need to tread carefully.
I focus on Silas, as if I can deduce the truth from his faux appearance.
“How are your injuries?” I glance meaningfully at his now bloodied temple where, seconds ago, there was unmarred flesh.
“As you see, I will be fine.”
I chew the inside of my cheek. “And the book?”
He lifts a brow. “What about it?”
Remembering how Rian said shadows hear everything, I lower my voice into the faintest whisper and ask, “Why did those men say the pages were blank?”
Silas holds my stare for a loaded beat. I begin to wonder if he heard me.
Then his brow furrows. “You truly do not know?”
A knot ties in my stomach. I jerk my head once.
He mutters something under his breath.
“What is it?” I whisper, glancing warily to the hall. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He leans his head back and stares up at the stained ceiling above. “Something that’s not within my right to share.”
I part my lips to object when a creak echoes down the corridor. Our conversation ends in an instant.
My pulse races, and the points of pain from Fief’s attack throb with anticipation of more to come.
Be strong, Elara. You are no meek creature.
The words come to me, not in my own voice, but first in Rian’s. Then Jaxon’s. Even Draven’s surly tone weaves through my mind.
The Fae I once feared with every passing thought are now the ones I subconsciously call on for strength. How twisted is that?
Ferria’s fierce voice comes next, reminding me that I have power. And smarts.
Then comes Juniper’s—only—it isn’t in my head.
“There is no honorable reason for her to remain in your custody, Nolan, and you know it.” My adoptive mother hobbles into view, leaning heavily on her cane.
Beside her, Elder Whitestone hovers, his features drawn as he meets my gaze.
The Elders are involved in this mess?
Of course they are. They lead Verdanthia. Why wouldn’t they be involved in this…whatever this is.
When Juniper sees me, she spins on Whitestone and swats him with the back of her hand, hard. “This ends now, Nolan. Get my daughter out of this cage this instant.”
“I cannot do that, Juni,” he says, voice strained. “I risk my head by simply bringing you down here.”
He does?
“You risk your head now by not opening that damn door!”
Rather than plead his case, Whitestone’s shoulders slump. He takes out a key that matches the one Fief held and slides it into the lock. The moment the metal clicks, Juniper shoves him aside and hobbles into the cell.
She grunts as she kneels in front of me. Her satchel hits the dirt with a thump. The irritation fades from her gaze as she scans my face.
Her hand cups my cheek, but she takes care not to apply too much pressure. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I came as soon as I could.”
Tears burn my eyes. “It’s okay.”
But it’s not. We both know it’s not.
Her thumb brushes my cheek.
Over her shoulder, she says, “Leave.”
“Juni, I—”
“I said leave, Nolan,” she snaps. “I’d like to speak with my daughter alone.”
A stricken look flashes over the Elder’s face before he coughs and dips his eyes. “Of course.”
He shuffles back the way he came.
Once the distant door clicks shut, Juniper turns to me. “I warned you about the Ironheart boy.”
A heavy sigh passes my lips. “How much do you know?”
“Enough.” Her eyes flash. “If I get my hands on him, I’ll castrate him.”
I choke on a laugh that’s half sob. “He’s not the one who beat me.”
“No, that was Fief. He’s foolishly been bragging about it to the others.”
Heat flares in my belly. My magic swirls around the emotion with an approving purr. It's grown in strength, but there’s still a strange, fuzzy sensation hovering around it.
“What’s going on out there?” I jerk my head toward the corridor and the town beyond. “This isn’t because of the human rebellion. Right?”
Her lips flatten. “No. There’s been a coup.”
My breath catches. “A coup?”
She nods, face grim. “After the fire, General Ironheart demanded an emergency meeting with the Elders. From what Nolan told me, they were supposed to discuss enhancing safety measures following that night’s destruction."
“And?” I prompt as my stomach roils. “What happened?”
“The army overthrew the Elders after last night’s celebrations, and they formed a ruling council composed entirely of military personnel."
Lev’s words during our dance play in my head—the ones about an upcoming war.
“And what?” I croak. “The town is just…okay with that?”
“You and I both know Verdanthians respect Ironheart. They won’t speak against him. Not without cause.”
I guess hearing that one of his soldiers is beating an innocent woman in the barracks’ cell isn't enough…
I grind my teeth together. “What is Ironheart’s goal? What does he want?”
“That, my love, I can’t say. But it’s clear the general believes you’re hiding something about the Fae squad in the forest, and they’re determined to get the truth from you.”
“In the forest?” My heart hammers. “The Fae haven’t left?”
“Of course not,” Silas says, making me jump in my skin. “As I said earlier, this is all part of the plan.”
I scowl at my fellow prisoner. “Am I right to assume you won’t tell me what, exactly, that plan is?”
“Correct, darling.” He brings a knee up and rests an arm on it, looking like a lord holding court and not a captive. “But don’t worry. It’ll happen soon.”
“I—”
My response is cut off by the sound of the door opening once more.
Juniper’s hand slides down to grip my arm. I hold my breath, fearing Fief has come to reopen my wounds.
Lev steps into view.
For a split second, relief flows through me. But that emotion swiftly shrivels up and dies when I remember what he’s done.
“What do you want, boy?” Juniper spits at Lev.
My former lover’s jaw clenches, the only sign he’s bothered by her vitriol.
Oh, how far we’ve come from the man who was hurt by my adoptive mother’s dismissive attitude outside the temple.
“We have more questions for you.”
My stomach plummets to the floor, but the unease lessens as his attention shifts to Silas, who stares at Lev with an empty expression.
Emotion clogs my throat.
“Lev…” I choke out. “Don’t do this.”
He doesn’t look at me. He strides across the cell, kneels down, and unlocks the shackles on Silas’s ankles.
Silas slumps as he’s pulled to his feet.
“Come on,” Lev growls and swings one of Silas’s arms over his shoulder. “Let’s get this over with.”
Silas’s feet drag every other step.
“This isn’t you, Lev!” I say, my voice shrill, my body shaking. “Why are you going along with…with this?”
Finally, his brown eyes meet mine. They’re hard, but I swear there’s a flicker of the caring boy I once knew.
But just as soon as I notice the hint of humanity in his gaze, it sputters out like a flame.
“Cooperate, Elara. Otherwise, we might just have to bring Ferria in for interrogation.”
Juniper curses.
Blood drains from my face. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would.”
“Fuck you, Lev.” An ache much different from the others in my body pierces my chest.
I look at Silas, desperate for a way to help him.
The Fae catches my eye, and with a quick smirk and wink, he manages to alleviate the worst of my fears about what’s going to happen to him.
Silas is Fae. He has shadow magic. He will be all right.
Please, Velmira, I pray. Let him be all right.
Lev shuts and locks the cell door with a finality that rings deep in my soul, severing the last thread that links me to him. At least, it should.
Lev’s always been driven. He’s always valued his father and his ideas. But for me, he overlooked the general’s judgement. For me, I thought he valued doing what’s right over doing what’s expected.
Looks like I was wrong.
Juniper waits until the door in the hall shuts before looking at me. “Let me treat your lip.”
She digs into her satchel, withdrawing a cloth and clear vial of antiseptic. After she moistens the cloth, I hold still as she applies it to my lip.
“Why have you not mended yourself?” she murmurs.
“I have.”
A pained look crosses her gaze at the realization that my injuries were much, much worse. “I am so sorry, my dear.”
“You did nothing wrong.”
“The book…” She trails off meaningfully, then moves her hand to clean the crusted blood off my chin.
“It’s not your fault.” I swallow thickly, then… “What do you know of the book?”
She lifts a gray brow. “Only what I told you. Your parents left it to me for you and Ferria.”
Suspicion tickles the back of my mind. “Did you ever open it?”
“Of course I did.”
“And?” I search her face. “What did you find?”
“The same thing I imagine the general found,” she says with a smirk. “Blank pages.”
I gape at her. “But…that’s not possible. I’ve read the book.”
“Magic encompasses that text, rendering it useless to those it deems unworthy.”
I frown. “You speak as if magic is sentient.”
“Isn’t it?” She drops her gaze to my hands.
White light flickers in my palms, but it doesn’t stay solid. It can’t.
Is my power sentient?
It certainly responds to my thoughts and actions, but I assumed I was subconsciously giving directives.
The possibility that it acts on its own is a subject I need to consider. Just as soon as I get myself out of this cell.
“What about the diary?” I lift my eyes back to Juniper’s. “Does it have the same…limitation?”
“No. Other than being written in a foreign tongue, the words are perfectly legible to anyone who can translate it.”
A sinking feeling settles in my gut at the thought of anyone else diving into those personal pages—at the thought of the mysterious woman’s words being lost to me forever.
“But do not fret.” She digs in her satchel and withdraws the small leather-bound book. “It is safe.”
I exhale a sharp breath. “How did you—”
“The moment Anton told me of your capture, I visited your home to search for the texts. The large tome was missing, but I found this one tucked between your couch cushions.” She snorts. “I imagine the soldiers believed they’d found the extent of your contraband material with the single tome.”
And thank the Gods for that.
“Thank you,” I sigh.
“Of course, my dear.” She tucks the diary back into her satchel, and my unease surrounding the diary lifts.
“You mentioned Anton,” I say.
“I did.” She pushes up my gown to assess the bruises on my legs and ribs.
She wears her professional healer’s mask now, the one that hides her true reactions to her patient’s condition. That tells me all I need to know about how bad it looks.
I train my eyes on the wall of bars. “How did he know I was taken?”
“I do not know, but I am in that boy’s debt. Thanks to him, these bastards won’t be able to get their hands on your sister.”
“What?” My gaze snaps to her. “How?”
“Anton took her away. He swore she’d be safe, and I trust him.”
I do, too. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have questions.
“Where could Anton take her where the general couldn’t find her?”
If he overthrew the Elders, all the soldiers in Verdanthia are at his disposal, even more so than they were before. His search power is immense.
“If I had to guess, I’d say the forest.”
“No!” My voice rises. “She wouldn’t.”
Ferria knows about the beasts. We fought them off. Surely she wouldn’t willingly go into those dark depths knowing what lingers there.
“Rest easy, Elara. Ferria is safe with Anton.” She changes the subject before I can object again. “Now, didn’t those Fae teach you anything about your magic? Why haven’t you used it to get out of here?”
I frown. “And what would I do if I did escape? The whole town is under Ironheart’s control.”
“It’s not the town that will protect you.”
My forehead furrows. “What—”
BOOM.
The distant door slams open, followed by heavy footsteps and the jangle of keys.
Panic grips my chest. Juniper grabs my shaking hand and rises to her wobbly legs, facing the cell door with bravery I’ve always admired but have failed to emulate.
Be brave, Elara, I tell myself, gritting my teeth.
But I can’t stop the cry of dismay that passes my lips when I take in Silas’s limp, bloody form, dangling from Fief ’s grip on his bicep.
My stomach churns.
“Got another one for you to heal, Mistress Fearnweaver.” Fief grins.
Blood speckles his cheeks.
He opens the cell door, drags Silas back to his chains, and locks them around his ankles before straightening and turning his hateful eyes on me.
Ice floods my veins as his evil grin grows. “Now, Elara, it’s your turn.”