Chapter 11
11
As the Void trial drew near, I helped the other servants of Earth House prepare. We cleaned and polished until every inch of the house gleamed. Delicious scents wafted from the kitchen at all hours as the Fae celebrated the beginning of the trial season.
The festive atmosphere seemed discordant to me. How could the Fae have moved on from those grisly executions so quickly? Did they truly not care, or had the executions been happening so frequently for so long that they no longer let the sight affect them?
I was even more eager to escape Mistei after that awful dinner, so I continued my hunt for an exit whenever I had a spare moment. My legs ached from the miles I’d walked, but between the exercise and the hearty Fae food, I was growing stronger. I’d found countless fascinating and secret places: bare stone alcoves hidden behind tapestries, sloped chutes for the adventurous to slide down as a shortcut between levels, a ballroom whose walls, floor, and ceiling were composed of unbroken sheets of mirrored glass.
Now that I’d grown accustomed to being underground, I appreciated how many novel ways the Fae had found to bring light to what should have been a dark, oppressive place. There were the ever-present torches and the ceiling crystals that mimicked daylight, but some rooms were lit with more exotic objects: jagged mounds of pink stone that glowed from within, fireplaces large enough for horses to stand in, even luminescent nets of what looked like spider silk draped across the ceiling.
I encountered Prince Drustan near the throne room during one of my expeditions. He was speaking with another member of Fire House, but his gaze lingered on me as I passed. Soon he caught up to me. “Good afternoon,” he said.
I looked up at his handsome face and lively eyes, trying to forget that a few nights ago he had burned a faerie alive. He’d had no choice; I knew that, just as I understood that he had made her death as fast as possible. Still, the sheer power contained in his body was terrifying.
“Good afternoon, my prince. I hope your house is well.”
“My people are excited for the trials. As are yours, I imagine.”
My people . The Fae would never be that. “Yes, the atmosphere does seem oddly celebratory.”
“They should celebrate. It’s rare to have so many parties and events, and it’s even rarer for anything to surprise an immortal. No one knows what to expect. Besides, four of our holidays happen during the trial season: Imbolc, the spring equinox, Beltane, and the summer solstice.” He glanced sidelong at me as we turned down an empty corridor. “I suspect you’ll enjoy Beltane in particular.”
We’d observed the same holidays in the human world, but I had no doubt Fae celebrations were far more interesting than the dancing and storytelling in Tumbledown. The wicked edge to Drustan’s smile made me wonder what, exactly, he thought I’d enjoy about Beltane.
“I still don’t understand why you all forget what happens during the trials,” I said, voicing a doubt that had been nagging at me. “Surely someone must write down what happens so they can check later.”
“Believe me, many have tried.” He smiled ruefully, as if he had been among them. “Even the words vanish from the paper they’re written on.”
“So the magic you worship, the six Sacred Shards, just…erases memories? Are the Shards alive?”
“All magic is alive. And yes, the Shards obscure our memories once the trials end.”
“What does it feel like?” I was nervous about the prospect of my memory being erased by a sentient rock.
“It doesn’t feel like anything. You wake up one morning and it’s as if the specifics are hidden behind foggy glass. We remember the parties and balls and the excitement, but details about the tests themselves are indistinct.”
Fascinating. “But you know what will happen during the Fire trial, right?”
“Yes, the Fire Shard shared the details with me.”
The Shards could communicate? That was…strange. But then I remembered the dagger curling around my arm and the impression it had given me—of magic so powerful it could shape-shift and speak—and the idea didn’t seem so preposterous after all.
We turned down another corridor and strolled past a series of mostly empty rooms. I had no idea where we were going anymore; the moment he’d fallen into step with me, I’d forgotten my original intentions. I kept my strides confident, not wanting to look foolish.
I didn’t know why he’d sought me out—probably just boredom—but I shouldn’t waste this opportunity to learn more about the Fire trial for Oriana and Lara. “Were you surprised by it, or is it something you expected? How difficult will it be?”
He raised a mocking eyebrow. “So many questions. Don’t think I’ll share any secrets that will help your mistress.”
I scowled. “I’m just curious how it works.”
“I’m sure. Lara’s the heir to Earth House. Don’t you think she’ll succeed without your help?”
I bristled at the doubt in his tone, even though it reflected my own privately held skepticism. “I have every faith in my lady.”
He hummed, and my eyes were drawn to his lips. “There are some Fae who think Earth House’s long-standing neutrality has made it weak.”
I tore my gaze away from that generous mouth. Why was he baiting me like this? “I’m sure that’s not the case.”
His gray eyes widened, and despite my irritation, I found myself unreasonably captivated by the curve of his long auburn lashes. It was as if every inch of him had been crafted by a sculptor with a taste for sensual detail. “Is that so?” he asked. “Is Earth finally shedding its oh-so-boring neutrality?”
The conversation was taking a turn I didn’t understand. I stopped in my tracks, not bothering to hide my annoyance. We were alone in the corridor, and besides, he had enjoyed my boldness before. “You deliberately misunderstand me.”
He reached towards me, and I held my breath as he hooked a finger in one of the curls that had sprung loose from my braid. He drew it out, studying the dark coil. “Perhaps I do. Or perhaps you misunderstand them. It’s a hard line to walk, and one that has done Earth House no favors over the centuries.”
“Please speak plainly, Drustan.” I used his name deliberately—a challenge of the power dynamic between us, a reminder that he’d invited this bluntness from me.
His eyes snapped to mine and held for long seconds. I refused to blink or look away. He dropped the curl, and the flashing smile he gave me held a crackle of flame in it. “It’s dangerous to speak plainly. You should know this by now.”
“Yet here I stand, perfectly well.” I lifted my chin, trying to ignore the hot trembling his nearness had sparked in my belly. “I’ve been told it’s refreshing.”
“Then I will share a small thought with you, one blunt truth in honor of yours.” His voice dropped so low I could barely hear him. “Earth House cannot maintain its neutrality forever. Eventually King Osric will decide not to tolerate it any longer. He grows bored without an enemy to fight. I wonder if Oriana has considered that.”
My skin prickled. “Are you telling me Earth House is going to be attacked?” I whispered. If so, why was he telling me and not the princess?
He shrugged. “I know of no such plans. I simply consider the long view, as most Fae do. Our history is complicated, but it tends to repeat itself. There will be a reckoning eventually.”
“Why tell me this? What do you expect me to do?” I had the sense our entire conversation had been designed to lead to this revelation, but I didn’t understand why.
“I don’t expect you to do anything,” he said. “I merely think you’re in an interesting position, close to some powerful members of Earth House. As I’ve told you, Fire House has many friends. Oriana and Lara could be among them—as could you.” He trailed a finger down my cheek, leaving tingling heat behind. “I hope you remember that if you hear even a hint that Earth House may reconsider its position.”
He strolled away, leaving me dumbfounded behind him.