Servant of Earth

Chapter 18

18

Earth House on the spring equinox was magical.

We’d been cleaning and decorating for days, and as I followed Lara into the main hall that morning, I marveled at the transformation. The already lush garden was covered in a riot of flowers, enormous blooms in every shade of the rainbow that had sprung from the seemingly infinite well of Oriana’s magic. Chains of prisms hung from the ceiling, reflecting light and color in every direction, and the air smelled like planting days in the fields outside Tumbledown.

Lara looked like a spring dream. Her black hair hung loose and waving to her waist, topped by a crown of yellow roses. More roses lined the hem of her flowing green dress, and she wore a gossamer cape dotted with tiny diamonds.

I wore a green dress today as well, with short, filmy sleeves that required the dagger to twine around my ankle rather than my arm. A simple crown of daisies topped my loose hair. It had been a long time since I’d left Earth House without my hair constrained in a tight braid or bun, and I marveled at how silky it had grown after repeated applications of Fae hair tonic. My skin, too, had grown smoother and softer since I’d arrived, and my thin frame had gained welcome curves. Between the food, the exercise, and my new love for cosmetics, I looked less like a ragged peasant every day and more like one of the fine ladies who visited Tumbledown for the faerie festivals.

The spring equinox was Earth House’s special holiday, and the theme was renewal. All week, servants had been repainting the walls and collecting old furniture and clothing in piles. The discarded items would be burned aboveground, Alodie had told me, as a symbol of starting over.

That was the part that most excited me. We were all going aboveground today, even the servants, and learning that had put fresh kindling on my smoldering dream of leaving Mistei. It would be my first time out in the fresh air since I’d been captured three months ago, and I planned to make the most of it by looking for places to hide and the best routes to take back towards the bog in preparation for whenever I was able to escape.

And if that opportunity for escape presented itself today? I hesitated while studying myself in the mirror, thinking about my unspoken vow to Drustan. I wanted to help him overthrow the king. But I hadn’t known during our last conversation that even the servants would be allowed outside today. There was so much danger in Mistei, and not just from the king and his cruel court. Kallen and Oriana both expected my fealty in different ways, and each had promised dire consequences should I fail. Eventually the balance of my conflicting obligations would come tumbling down.

I wasn’t a dreamer by nature, not when there was a more tangible option. And besides, I was just a human servant. Drustan had resources I could never dream of. He didn’t truly need me.

My stomach felt oddly hollow at the thought.

Before the equinox revelry, we had to attend a ritual to “renew the ward.” It was held in the throne room, and I was pleased to see the other houses had adopted Earth’s colors for the day, just as they had adopted Void’s color for the first trial. A sea of green, brown, and blue greeted me, and almost every faerie had flowers in their hair.

King Osric wore a tunic of palest blue and a long white cloak studded with opals, looking once again like a king of ice—deliberately, I was sure. He wore no flowers, just his crown.

“Welcome.” He gestured to the gathered crowd, highlighting the opals that shimmered at his wrists and fingers. “The spring equinox is a time of renewal and rebirth. One thing we renew every year is our pledge to commit no violence against the throne.”

He beckoned, and the four house heads stepped forward. They had each bared one arm—Oriana because her diaphanous sapphire dress only had one sleeve, the others by rolling their sleeves up to their elbows. Osric descended from the dais to join them, completing a circle in the center of the room. I hadn’t noticed it before, but the outline of a crown was engraved in the floor between them.

At the king’s snap, a servant rushed forward bearing a purple pillow with five knives on it. Each house head grabbed a knife and held it above their exposed forearms. The king intoned something in an unknown language, and all five cut deeply. Their blood poured out, combining in the indented outline of the crown. Once the streams had mixed, the blood sank into the stone and disappeared. A rush of power shot through the room and blew my hair back from my face.

Everyone was silent as the house heads applied cloths to their quickly healing wounds. King Osric grinned as the servant bound his arm. “Safe for another year. Fire, Earth, Void, Light, and Illusion offer no violence to my person. Now onward to the celebration!” He clapped his hands, and the crowd dispersed.

I tugged on Alodie’s sleeve. “What was that?”

“The renewal of an old spell,” she murmured as we followed the crowd out. “After the rebellion, King Osric had it inscribed in the stone that no member of the surviving houses would commit violence against him. They can still attack one another, but trying to use magic or physical violence against the king will cause the person assaulting him to die. The ward is renewed every spring equinox.”

My heart sank. “So he can’t be hurt by anyone?” I didn’t dare say the word killed out loud.

“Exactly.” She nudged me. “Praise the Shards for his safety.”

“Praise the Shards,” I repeated, understanding the silent warning. Even speculation was punished here.

The realization that Osric couldn’t be deposed by violence was disheartening, but surely there were other ways to limit his powers.

In a few hours it might not matter to me anymore, anyway.

We reached a spiraling staircase. Normally it was warded and guarded by Illusion soldiers, but today that restriction had been relaxed. My pulse raced as we climbed, passing levels I’d never seen before—rooms filled with low couches and smelling of sweet incense, rows of upscale shops lined with jewels and silks, and corridors with mysterious barred doors. Eventually the stairs ended at an archway where an enormous metal door had been pushed open to reveal a sunny green landscape.

My eyes smarted as we emerged on the side of a large hill. Mistei’s lighting crystals were a poor approximation of the sun’s brilliance. As tears poured down my cheeks, I ducked my head, not wanting anyone to see. It wasn’t just the brightness that affected me—the air smelled fresh and familiar, and songbirds sang in the trees.

The grass was thick and dotted with wildflowers. About twenty feet away at the top of the hill, a large bonfire had been built out of furniture. I could see the bog beyond the forest below, much farther away than I had expected. Tumbledown was a barely visible smudge in the distance.

I felt a sad longing for my village, as miserable as it had often been. Life had been simpler there. No conflicted loyalties, no bloody banquets, and though the path of survival I’d walked had sometimes felt narrow, it had never been as narrow as the one I walked in Mistei. As wind kissed my cheeks, I thought of sunrise over the bog and my mother’s herbs hanging from the rafters and Anya and I sharing a meager cheese picnic, and my heart hurt.

A simpler life was in my reach again, though. I was outside at last.

Faeries poured out into the sunlight from doors dotted over the hill. I looked around, wondering what surrounded us other than the bog. The lake covering Earth House’s entrance sparkled in the light, and vast swaths of forest spread into the distance, with grassy hills poking their heads up at intervals. To the north and west the hills rose into mountains, culminating in the snowcapped peaks of the Giants’ Teeth. On nearby slopes, smaller bonfires were being built by Noble Fae and Underfae who hadn’t been invited to the king’s celebration. Soon every hill resembled an island in a sea of trees, each with its own separate populace.

I grabbed a glass of wine for Lara from one of the refreshment tables. The pale liquid sparkled like distilled sunshine. It was warm up here with no trees to shade the sun’s rays, and the cold feel of the glass in my hand was a pleasure. I delivered the wine to Lara, then retreated to study the layout of the space. Faeries were already dancing around the unlit bonfire while fiddlers played lively tunes, and I was surprised to see Noble Fae dancing with Underfae and servants chatting and laughing with their masters. It seemed class lines were blurred on the high holidays. Aidan stood at Edric’s side, sipping wine and grinning as if Edric were the best thing he’d ever seen.

My heart ached at that, too, and I cursed myself for the sudden and unwelcome development of a romantic streak. Was self-pity and a longing for impossibilities truly all I was capable of feeling? It was a day for action, not emotion, and I had an escape to plot.

There were so many faeries milling about and the slope of the hill was so long and unobstructed that it would be difficult to slip away unseen. Better to wait until later when everyone was drunk. I wandered away from the group and peered towards the forest below.

A shadow fell across my path. I turned, shading my eyes, and saw Drustan.

The Fire prince was beautiful in Earth colors. Forest-green velvet set off his flaming hair, which he’d left wild and free. I laughed at the chain of daisies in it—a mirror of my own.

“You laugh at a prince?”

I shook my head. “I laugh at a friend who looks very fetching in flowers.”

He grinned. “So I’ve been told. What are you doing over here instead of enjoying the party?”

“Just admiring the view.” I tried to sound casual. “I never knew what was on the other side of Fae territory.”

He gestured at the expanse of forest and mountain. “All of that is Fae territory. Mistei is longer and deeper than you can imagine—I don’t even think we’ve charted all of it. But a long time ago we lived aboveground as well. Even in those mountains.”

“Do you remember it?” How old was he, anyway?

“No. We’ve lived entirely underground since the rebellion.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s easier to control people when they have no way to escape,” he said bluntly. “Back when things were more…open…we were free to leave or live outside the city. Now, though, it would be too much territory to protect. It would be hard to keep the population nearby if they didn’t want to stay. A cave, though…A cave makes a nice prison.” His mouth thinned, the line of his lips bitter. “And so one of the most marvelous Fae cities in the world turned into something it was never meant to be.”

I stared at him in shock. I knew everyone lived underground and that the king’s permission was required to leave, but I’d never realized…“The Noble Fae are trapped here, too?”

“Ever since the war. No one can escape.”

I touched his sleeve, and he looked down at my hand, his jaw tightening. “I’m sorry.”

He nodded in acknowledgment, then smiled with forced joviality I didn’t believe for a second. “This looks so open, doesn’t it? Like a person could just wander off and never be seen again.” He paused, gaze boring into me. “You should know, though, that the entire base of this hill is warded against escape. The only way anyone leaves and survives is if the king gives special permission and alters the wards.”

I moistened my lips, suddenly certain he’d seen right through me. “Interesting.”

So I wouldn’t be escaping today. For a moment disappointment threatened to drown me, but I forced myself to let go of today’s hope and focus on tomorrow. I hadn’t explored all the Earth catacombs—it was possible there was a secret exit. A way past the king’s wards and out of this beautiful prison.

“Now, Kenna the Curious, I think it’s time for you to dance.” Drustan grinned, and the smile was less forced this time. His restored good cheer did wonders for my own, and I turned my attention towards enjoying the party. If I couldn’t escape, at least I could have a good time.

Still, I wasn’t sure about dancing. I followed him back to the celebration, protesting the entire way. “I don’t dance. Not well, anyway. Not like faeries do. Human dancing is mostly just holding hands and spinning in circles.” I was babbling, but it would be mortifying to trip in front of the elegant Noble Fae.

He placed a hand on the small of my back, as if planning to push me into the melee.

“Oh, please don’t throw me in there. I’ll fall over and be trampled to death.”

“I won’t let you fall.” His voice was a hot whisper in my ear. I was shocked when the hand at my waist pulled me towards him, and his left hand scooped up my right. “Grab my shoulder.”

I did, wondering dazedly if this was actually happening. Was the Prince of Fire actually dancing with a human servant? No one seemed surprised by the sight, but I still felt embarrassed. “I am far below your station,” I hissed as he guided me into the dancing.

“That’s one of the main points of this festival. We’re encouraged to mingle, to remind us that we’re all Fae. Or, in your case, Fae-adjacent. I’m sure the king would like that remedied, but the tradition is so old no one even remembers when it began. Now hush.”

He spun me expertly through the crowd, whispering the steps in my ear until I caught on. Then we danced in silence, twirling to the fiddle music, around and around and around.

A wave of heat washed over me, and the crowd cheered as the bonfire lit up, a bright conflagration that reached towards the heavens. I looked at Drustan with raised brows.

He laughed. “I can do two things at once, you know.” He leaned in, pressing his mouth against my ear. “I’d love to show you sometime.”

I squeaked at the insinuation and stumbled, which made him laugh harder, and then he spun me one last time as the tune came to an end. He bowed, and I barely remembered to curtsy. Then he winked and grabbed a new partner, and someone else offered me their hand.

To my surprise, it was Pol, the king’s goatlike steward. He was surprisingly graceful for someone with hooves, and we danced a jig that left me breathless and giddy. Another partner grabbed me when he left, then another and another. I caught a glimpse of Lara through the crowd, tossing back her head and laughing as she spun in the arms of a lady from Void House.

I curtsied as the latest song ended, then fanned myself and started making my way to the refreshment table. If everyone else was drinking wine, I might as well.

A firm hand caught my elbow. “Dance with me.” The words weren’t a question but a command.

I looked up at Lord Kallen and swallowed. I couldn’t refuse, so I nodded, tensing as he laid a hand low on my waist and carefully cupped my fingers. This dance was slower, an elegant glide that was a simpler version of what I’d danced with Drustan. I didn’t want to stand too close to Kallen, which left me in the uncomfortable position of standing at arm’s length and staring straight into that unyielding face.

I’d tried not to look too closely at him before, but now I had no choice. He wore a deep brown tunic, nearly as dramatic as his usual Void attire, and shimmering lightning filled the opal brooch on his chest. His customary frown was absent today, revealing full lips and flashes of white teeth. His lashes were thick and long, a sooty black that contrasted with his pale skin, and I was surprised to realize his eyes weren’t black, after all, but a deep midnight blue. He was flushed from the exertion of dancing, his shoulder-length hair was tousled, and a sheen of sweat glistened in the hollow at the base of his throat.

It was unfair for the Noble Fae to be so beautiful, I thought bitterly. Their outsides ought to match their rotten insides.

“You haven’t come to me with more information,” he said as we slowly circled the bonfire.

“I didn’t think anything was important enough to tell.”

“I get to decide what’s important and what isn’t. What were you discussing with Drustan earlier?”

Was he always watching me? “He told me everything out there is Fae territory, even the mountains, and that some faeries used to live aboveground. I thought it was interesting.”

“He seems to enjoy playing the tutor. Has the Fire prince been paying you any other special attentions?” The words special attentions were given a hint of derision, and I stiffened but held back a sharp retort.

“No,” I said firmly. But I’d like him to . “And he hasn’t told me much of substance. Mostly he enjoys being witty, and he finds it amusing to teach me odd bits of Fae history. He told me this festival is egalitarian, for instance, which explains why you’re dancing with me.”

“I see. How is Earth House reacting to Lady Lara’s unexpected success in the trials?”

I blinked at the abrupt change in subject. “Oriana is pleased, of course. Lara grows more confident every day. They hope for similar success in later trials.”

“Are you still helping her?” He asked the question lazily, but there was steel in his gaze.

“No,” I lied. “Though I pass along gossip if I hear it, of course.”

“Good.” He paused to sharply guide me out of the way of a drunkenly spinning couple. “Mistei is different from the human world, Kenna.”

I didn’t like hearing my name falling from his lips. “I am aware, yes.”

“If you give too much of yourself down here,” he continued in an odd tone, looking down at me intently, “you risk losing everything. Because no one will ever return that loyalty. You’ll give and give and end up hollow…or dead. Remember that.”

I didn’t understand what he was talking about. My forehead furrowed as I looked up at him. “My lord?”

“So what gossip have you heard and passed along to Lara?” he asked, ignoring my confused inquiry.

What a strange person. Then again, the Fae all seemed to love being cryptic, and trying to parse their words was often a waste of time. “I’ve heard the Light test is about physical control, but I don’t know anything beyond that.”

“Is that why you visited the Nasties? To gossip?”

A shiver crawled down my spine. How had he known? Maybe he really did have spies in every corner. “Yes,” I admitted, knowing I couldn’t pretend otherwise. “I heard they were the only ones who would speak about…a certain house I’m not supposed to speak about. I didn’t learn anything.”

I wouldn’t tell him about Dallaida styling herself a queen. He would tell King Osric, and then the king would destroy her. As nice as that sounded, any enemy of the king’s was an ally of mine, and if Dallaida felt confident enough to challenge him, she should have the chance.

“I’m amazed the Nasties let you live.” Kallen spun me dizzyingly, and I stumbled before he pulled me closer to stabilize me. His hand was hard on my waist, preventing me from pulling away. I was inches from his chest, my breasts almost brushing him with every inhale.

I tried to suppress my flush. I knew what this was. He was trying to keep me off-balance, disconcerting me with forced intimacy, trying to intimidate me with his beauty and his power. One of the games the Fae so loved to play.

The weakness of the Fae was that they expected everyone else to play by the same rules. I stopped trying to pull away and instead looked up at him and smiled. “I find the Fae are perpetually surprised by what humans can do,” I said. “You’d think they’d start learning.”

He snorted as the song came to an end, then leaned in, his breath brushing my ear. “Happy equinox, Kenna. Next time don’t wait so long to tell me what I want to know.” He strode away, leaving me dizzy and relieved behind him.

I made my way to the wine immediately, declining offers to dance from Underfae and Noble Fae alike. I grabbed a glass and drained half of it.

The wine was light and sweet, bursting with crisp apple flavors and a hint of melon. I closed my eyes as it traveled down my throat, cooling as it went. When I opened them again, the world looked different—the colors more intense, the sunlight laced with glitter. My heart beat in time with the music, and I felt the ancient power of the earth beneath my feet, as if I were part of the soil.

As I finished the glass, a pleasurable lightheadedness swept over me. This was Earth House’s special blend, crafted in cellars deep below the residential quarters. The only time the other houses got to taste it was on the spring equinox, and it was widely seen as one of the best parts of the holiday. I could see why the Fae loved it so much—I’d never tasted anything so incredible.

I grabbed a second glass and made my way to the edge of the dancing, waiting until Lara’s shining black hair flashed by. As she completed a turn, I lifted the glass in the air. She grinned and nodded. When the song ended, she grabbed the glass, drank the wine in a few swallows, and returned to the revelry. I would have joined her, but my new wine-enhanced sight made simply watching an incredible pleasure. The gowns swirling by took on the look of leaves in the wind, and the grass pulsed with life.

Lara laughed, and I watched with affection as she grabbed a new partner. The Noble Fae all had an ethereal luster to their skin, but she was surrounded by something more, a trace of Earth magic glistening in the sunlight like an aura. It was a pale reflection of Oriana’s brilliant golden gleam, but it made her seem alive in a way no one else around her was.

Anya had loved dancing, too. She’d been around Lara’s height, and for a moment I could pretend Anya spun through that crowd, alive, well, and happy.

I exhaled a deep breath and blinked away the illusion. Lara returned—her face rounder than Anya’s had been, her hair raven instead of golden brown, her features entirely her own.

In the glow of the wine, I made a decision.

I’d been comparing Lara to Anya for too long and finding Lara lacking. I’d been longing for a reality that would never come to pass because I couldn’t stand that both my mother and my best friend were dead and I was alone. It wasn’t fair to Lara or to me.

Dreams were nothing but illusion. They obscured sight of what actually existed. All those moments I spent imagining Anya were moments I didn’t see Lara. All those times I wondered what Anya would do in my situation were times I wasn’t thinking about what I would do.

I inhaled deeply. When I exhaled, I breathed out Anya’s ghost at last.