Chapter 29
29
As the Earth trial drew near, I became increasingly aware of another ticking clock. I hadn’t provided Kallen with any information lately. In fact, I hadn’t spoken a single word to him or come anywhere near him since the day of the picnic, when he’d saved me from Garrick and Markas.
The memory of our confrontation still confused me. Why had I taken out my rage on him, of all people? Why hadn’t I been able to control myself? He was dangerous. He could have had me killed for arguing with him…yet he hadn’t.
I wondered if he would someday, once I’d outlived my usefulness as a spy.
I didn’t want Kallen coming to find me again, complaining that I hadn’t been forthcoming with information, so the night before the trial, I went to Blood House. As I waited in the dark antechamber, I reflected on what Drustan had told me. The empty room no longer seemed eerie or menacing. Instead, the still air felt mournful.
Somewhere beyond this room, families had once laughed and thrived. Children had run and played, just as they did in Earth House. And the faeries who had lived here hadn’t just been fighters; they had been healers as well.
I’d expected Blood House to be more sinister, considering the ominous name and the mystery shrouding it. I’d envisioned a cave populated by murderers who consumed the blood of the innocent and powered their dark magic with human sacrifice. Instead, the citizens of Blood House had been proud and honest, and they had been willing to die rather than submit to a tyrant.
It reminded me of how wrong I’d been about Caedo. I’d taken the dagger’s bloodlust for evil, but it had simply been overwhelmed by deep, painful hunger. It couldn’t help the way it had been forged, and now that I’d begun regularly feeding it animal blood, its violent urges had mostly ceased.
Few things in Mistei were exactly as they seemed. Blood House had been as noble as Illusion was corrupt. My dagger had begun showing restraint. A faerie prince could lust after a human. Even Lara had come to show more depth than I’d ever expected from her.
Caedo quivered against my arm, letting me know someone was approaching.
Here was another faerie who wasn’t quite as he seemed. The merciless King’s Vengeance, who had shown mercy to a mere human. Kallen slipped into the antechamber, a swift shadow I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been looking for him. “I’m surprised you came,” he said, casting a shimmering obsidian ward over the entrance.
“I’m trying to be a better spy.” I approached, wishing I could see his face. “It’s very unsettling knowing you can see in the dark when I can’t.”
He sighed. “Light your torch.”
This part of Mistei grew dark at night, with some wall torches extinguished and others burning so low they were nearly embers, so I’d tucked a small, unlit torch into my belt next to a pouch containing a tinderbox in case more illumination was needed. Of course Kallen had noticed it—he seemed to notice everything about me. “You aren’t worried someone will realize we’re here?”
“No one will come anywhere near without me sensing them. I cast shadows in the hallway. I’ll know as soon as they’re disrupted.”
He had so many strange powers, and the ones he’d told me about probably only scratched the surface.
I lit the torch and raised it. The firelight caught on the sharp angles of his face, throwing his expression into relief. To my surprise, Kallen didn’t seem as impassive as normal. He looked downright weary.
“So?” he prompted. “What was so important you pulled me away from my house in the dead of night?”
“It’s not the dead of night.”
“I’m waiting.”
I sighed. “I wanted to let you know that I’m trying to collect information for you, but I’m not having much luck. Honestly, the only thing I heard about any sort of unrest is a rumor that Void House is planning an uprising.”
I’d practiced my lies until they sounded as natural as possible. I had two purposes tonight: to fulfill my end of the bargain with Kallen without giving away any information about Drustan’s coup attempt, and to learn whatever I could about Void’s plans.
“Who told you that?” When I didn’t immediately answer, his lips quirked. “Drustan, no doubt. I know you two talk with startling frequency.”
I ignored the implication that my interactions with Drustan were out of the ordinary. “Is it true?”
“Did he tell you anything else?”
I blew out an annoyed breath. “He told me a little more about the old rebellion. Fire and Void House used to be allies. What happened?”
At first I thought he wouldn’t answer. “It’s complicated,” he said at last. “Five hundred years have passed since the war, and alliances change over time. It doesn’t help that I serve the king. Fire plays at fealty, but they don’t truly mean it.”
“Why do you serve him?” I was genuinely curious. “Your brother barely goes to court at all.”
He studied me as if trying to peer inside my head and discern the nature of my thoughts. “No one asks me about myself. Or about Hector, for that matter. They’re all afraid to.”
“Or you aren’t very interesting,” I said, then immediately wanted to slap myself. Why did I keep antagonizing him?
To my surprise, he chuckled. It sounded rusty, as if he hadn’t laughed in a very long time. “No one taunts me, either. They’re afraid of what the king’s dog might do to them.”
At the reminder of what I’d said to him, I lowered my gaze. “I’m sorry I called you that.” The apology was at least a tiny bit genuine, if only because I regretted endangering my life by goading him. “I was furious at the situation.”
“I’m over three hundred years old,” he said dryly. “I collect secrets for a living. I think I understand why people lash out.”
I looked up, startled by this strange, softer side of him. I’d planned to soothe his temper tonight and work my way into his good graces, but he didn’t seem like he had any temper to soothe. Again I noticed the faint melancholy on his face, the shadows under his eyes. Something was bothering Kallen, but I knew better than to ask what.
“So? How did you start serving the king?” I asked.
He was silent for a long time. “It was part of the price for my house’s continuing survival.”
“What do you mean?”
“My father was the only member of our family who survived the rebellion,” he said. “His consort, all his children…gone. He bowed to the king in the end, and to reward Void for returning to the fold, his life was spared. But that wasn’t enough for the king.”
The ominous words seemed to crawl down my spine. Nothing was ever enough for King Osric.
“My father took a new consort,” Kallen continued, “and Hector was born shortly after the war. He became the heir, of course. When I was born, the king insisted I serve him, instead. This would ensure Void House’s ongoing loyalty.”
That sounded like Kallen had been a hostage, rather than a volunteer. “Do you enjoy it?” I asked. “Being the King’s Vengeance?”
Again he let out a startled chuckle. “Does anyone enjoy anything down here?”
It was a profoundly sad question, but I couldn’t deny the truth of it. “Why doesn’t Fire House have anyone serving the king so closely?” Why had Void been the only one to pay that price?
“The previous Fire prince didn’t have any children after Drustan, and Drustan has no heirs, either. There’s no spare.”
How uncomfortable to be seen as a spare. A second choice, good only for leverage. “So Fire resents Void because you are loyal to the king.”
Kallen smiled.
“Are you loyal to the king?” I prompted.
“You’re very persistent. I serve my king and love my house, as all good Fae must. Why are you so curious about this?”
Because I was curious about everything, and Kallen was proving to be a strange sort of mystery. “I’m just trying to understand how everything fits together. Why are you asking me for information about Drustan when the rumors of rebellion are about Void House? I won’t know what information is most helpful unless I know your motivations.”
“A tidy argument. However, I have never asked you to bring me only the information you deem most helpful. I have asked you to tell me everything. So what else do you have for me?”
I scrambled for something else to say. “Earth House is determined to stay neutral.” No surprise there. “They are unaware of any unrest, as far as I know.”
“So Earth House is still neutral, Void House is supposedly plotting against the king, and you are now better educated in the history of Mistei. Is that it?”
Put like that, my information did not sound at all worthy of getting him out of bed. I nodded hesitantly.
He inclined his head. “Thank you for coming as soon as you felt you had something to share. My interests remain the same. Keep focusing on Drustan’s activities, including anyone you see him meeting with. Tell me anything you learn, even if it seems trivial. Listen closely for any mention of unrest.”
He left, but I remained in the antechamber, puzzling through the interaction. Had he actually thanked me? I’d been expecting a fiery confrontation, but apparently me taking the initiative to see him had mollified him, or else he’d just been in a bad mood during our previous meetings.
There was another possibility, though. A spymaster must know plenty of ways to make his sources talk. Perhaps he was seeing how I responded to various approaches. He’d clearly already figured out that my curiosity about Mistei needed to be appeased at least a little bit, which explained his willingness to answer some of my questions. Now his politeness had defused any rude words I could have said. Not that I had been planning on rudeness, but my temper occasionally got the best of me.
His melancholy, polite demeanor tonight made me more uneasy than the cold mask did. A cruel faerie was something I understood. An angry faerie was likewise simple. I knew what both types wanted and what they were capable of doing to get it.
Kallen had proven himself more complicated, from grieving the changeling to saving me from Garrick to his downright civil behavior tonight. The last thing I wanted was for one of my most confusing enemies to become even more complex—or worse yet, sympathetic.