Chapter 5 Tethered Not
five
Tethered Not
Miralyte
"Mira!" Pelbie shouted, jolting me awake. I turned to see her standing by my bedside. There was a distinct edge of concern in her big brown eyes and her brows were knitted together with worry. "Are you all right?"
The room spun when I tried to sit, and a terrible smell filled the air, something caustic and sulfurous, like flesh melting in a crucible.
It was coming from me.
"I'm okay," I said. But then I fell backward and smacked my head against the thick, stone wall. Everything shifted sideways.
"Oh for the love of the heavens, Mira! Stay still." Pelbie pressed a cold cloth to my forehead, easing my discomfort. I squinted against the bright lantern to take in our surroundings. She grimaced and lowered the light.
I was lying in a strange bed, a stone slab covered in soft furs and white linen.
Vials and glass cases littered an island counter behind her, some filled with poultices and salves, others with leaves.
Tubes of strange, liquidized ointment hung over the side, dripping blobs of shimmering metal into bowls below.
The glowing liquid looked oddly familiar. Had I seen something similar recently? A wound on my arm began to throb.
"W–where am I?" I asked, trying to sit up.
"Just relax. You're in the infirmary."
My head felt strangely empty. I rubbed my temple, wondering if someone had struck me in the back of the head.
"What do you remember?" Pelbie asked me, looking both concerned and relieved at once. She pressed a cold rag against my forehead. The smell reminded me of what had happened.
"I failed the challenge," I mumbled, feeling dejected. If I closed my eyes, I could still remember the terrible sensation of plummeting off the platform, falling, knowing that my death would come in the form of a knife slicing through my bones.
Then a hand, rough but gentle, had abruptly ended my fall, gripping the collar of my shirt and hauling me into the sky. Shame burned my cheeks as I recalled how the world had faded into nothingness as adrenaline and fear had coursed through my veins.
"Lord Zydar caught you. He carried you here himself."
I stared at her. "He what?"
"You got lucky," Pelbie corrected.
"Lucky? I definitely do not feel lucky."
Another cold wind swept across my skin, and I shuddered against it. This time, I could feel the scars along my ribs tugging, as though the fragile flesh had started to heal.
That made no sense. He'd dropped me. I remembered his cold smile, the deliberate release of his grip.
"Why would he—"
"I don't know." Pelbie's voice was tight. "But you're alive, and that's what matters."
Everything hurt. My muscles felt like molten lead, my head stuffed with burning coals. Even breathing seemed impossibly difficult.
"How long have I been unconscious?"
"A day."
Rage flared in my chest—hot, bright, consuming. That bastard had thrown me off a platform and then what, had second thoughts? Decided his little game had gone too far?
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and looked down at myself, taking stock of my condition.
"How did you fall? Did you get distracted? Did you slip?"
I stared up at her. "Kind of."
She put her hands on her hips. "You'd better start talking, Mira, or so help me, I will . . . "
I struggled not to roll my eyes. "I never thought I would say this to you, Pelbie, but please, calm down. Your face is going all red again. The fae can surely hear you shouting from here."
She deflated slightly, and crossed her arms. Then she began tapping her finger, an irritated rhythm beating against her forearm.
"We'll talk about this tomorrow." She settled the thin blanket across my chest.
Just then, the heavy stone door to the room swung open. It was silent as it parted, as though the hinges did not exist.
"Oh! You're awake!" A voice chimed in, light and musical, sweet like a nightingale. A fae woman stood in the doorway. This must be Lady Narietta. Zydar's younger sister.
Her short, dark hair was curled and glossy, held back by a jeweled circlet upon her brow. Her cheeks were flushed pink, her ears tinged with gold.
She wore a sleeveless, crimson red dress that glimmered faintly in the light. It was embroidered with threads of orichalcum, which formed swirls and patterns all over the fabric.
"I'm so glad you're awake! I've been so worried about you!" Narietta chirped as she strode into the room, her voice high and clear as a bell.
She clasped my hands in hers, enveloping them in her warmth. "You had quite the nasty fall."
Her eyes were a bright shade of red. Unlike Zydar’s eyes, the red of her eyes seemed light, almost welcoming. She smiled at me, revealing a set of sharp, pointed teeth. "How are you feeling?"
There was something unsettling about this girl. She seemed cheerful, but there was a strange edge to her voice, as if she were trying to mask some hidden intent. My mind flashed to Zydar’s illusions.
"I've been better," I said, attempting a weak laugh. I winced.
She frowned slightly, her brow wrinkling. "I apologize for the lack of healers," she explained. "We are, unfortunately, quite understaffed. The healers... well, let's just say they're quite occupied."
I felt my stomach twist, and not from pain. "What do you mean?"
Narietta shook her head. "Not to worry. You are recovering nicely. And your dear friend here," she paused and smiled at Pelbie, "well, she's doing a very good job."
Pelbie nodded eagerly. I sighed and tried not to think about the ache in my ribs.
"Why am I here?" I sat up a little more, and looked around the infirmary.
"Don't you remember?" Narietta asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and cocking her head. "You—"
"No, no. Why am I in the infirmary? Why am I alive?"
"You are far too perceptive for one so young." The bright smile faded. "Our illustrious warlord spared your life."
"He threw me off the platform first, then he spared my life."
Narietta considered me with those big red eyes and I felt a sense of unease settle into the room.
"I'm sure my brother has plenty of reasons for his actions. If I had to guess, I'd say he thought you worth saving. Or perhaps he simply finds you fascinating. You've certainly gotten under his skin."
I tilted my head and looked more closely at her. If I didn't know any better, I might think that Lady Narietta had the ability to peer directly into my thoughts. But I'd learned long ago that most were unable to do so. They had to be exceptionally powerful or gifted to read a mortal's mind.
"If this is him being kind, I don't think I want to see his idea of punishment."
A small smile crept onto her face, accompanied by a gleeful chuckle.
"Oh, he's just teasing you." Narietta said, placing a hand on my arm.
"He can be quite intimidating, but he truly does mean well.
" I stared at her hand on my arm. None of the fae had been so familiar with us in this way. If anything, they looked at us as if we were insects. But looking at Pelbie’s relaxed posture and easy smile around Narietta, I decided to give her the benefit of doubt.
"The next time he visits, why don't you try talking to him? You may find that you two have a lot more in common than you first realized."
"The next time he visits?, " I was stunned. Had he been visiting me?
She smiled at me again, her eyes sparkling with an almost ethereal light.
"Are you able to stand?" she asked.
I took a deep breath and prepared myself for what came next. When I was ready, I nodded.
"Come on then, up you go!"
Narietta carefully wrapped her arm around my waist and eased me up off the bed. Her grip was surprisingly strong, and she moved as if I weighed nothing at all.
"Thank you, Lady Narietta," I replied, trying not to stare at her crown.
"Please, call me Narie. " She looked up at me, and our eyes met. For a moment, I lost myself in the breathtaking depths of her irises, staring back at me with an unreadable expression.
Then she blinked, and the spell was broken.
"Would you like to join us for dinner tonight?" She asked, her voice sweet and hopeful.
I froze, my mouth suddenly going dry. I looked down at my bandaged body, and then back up at her, not entirely sure how to respond.
"Dinner?" I asked blankly, keeping the suspicion from my voice.
"Yes, dinner. It's an evening meal, usually taken at the end of the day. Maybe you've heard of it?" Narietta teased.
"I know what dinner is. I'm just not sure why you're asking me."
Narietta threw her head back and laughed. "This one is absolutely delightful! We need more lighthearted humans like her to round out these dreary halls."
I wasn't sure if she was talking to me, or to Pelbie, and, when she winked, I decided that I didn't care. Still, a quiet thought lingered at the edge of my mind: Why only me?
"So, dinner?" She asked, tapping her foot impatiently.
"Uh, thank you, my lady, but, uh—"
"Good!" She squealed, clapping her hands together excitedly. "I'll have Karys bring you a dress. We'll see you in a few hours."
Before I could open my mouth to respond, she grabbed Pelbie's arm and the two of them vanished in a rush of wind.
I stared blankly at the empty space where they had just been standing, wondering what in the blighted heavens I had just gotten myself into.
I looked out the window, trying to take deep, calming breaths. The sun had set, and the stars were beginning to appear in the night sky. Far below, the lights from the other courts flickered and pulsed like winking eyes.
The distant roar of the storm tugged at my awareness.
What was happening to me?
I ran my fingers through my hair, sighing softly. I could feel my blood boiling in my veins. I wasn't even sure what I was angry about anymore, but every fiber of my being ached with emotion.
I tried to push the sound from my mind, but it only grew louder, echoing in the depths of my subconscious.
I could feel a strange heat welling up inside me, a white hot rage that threatened to consume me. It swirled within me like a maelstrom, building with each passing moment.
I needed to calm down, to regain control of myself, but I couldn't seem to steady my breathing.
I felt as if the entire world were collapsing in on itself, as if all the stars and planets were spiraling down a dark, twisting void. I closed my eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath, then another, and another, until the storm faded away and the whispers quieted to a dull murmur.
When I opened my eyes, I saw a shimmering figure staring back at me, watching me with curious eyes.
It was an emberhart. Right outside the windows.
Its fur was a pure, brilliant white, like freshly fallen snow, and its eyes were a deep, crimson red. It was huge, easily the size of a full grown horse.
It tilted its head, gazing at me with a strange intelligence.
I was confused at first, wondering if I were imagining the creature, but when I blinked and rubbed my eyes, the emberhart was still there, staring at me.
I could feel its presence pressing against me, permeating my thoughts. Somehow, it made the rage in me calm and made my body feel warm, and content.
And as I stared back, I found that the only word that came to mind was beautiful.
It was the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on.
We both stayed like that for a long moment, just staring at each other. It made no sound, didn't move at all. It was as if it was holding its breath, waiting for me to do something, waiting for me to make the first move.
Just then, the door to the infirmary swung open and Karys walked in with a stern expression.
"Vessel," she snapped, "You are expected to dress and prepare yourself for the evening—"
"What is an emberhart doing in the Thunder Court?" I interrupted, gesturing towards the window.
Karys frowned, her sharp features furrowing into a scowl. She stalked towards the window, peering out into the night.
"There is nothing out there," she muttered.
"It was right there, looking at me."
She shook her head. "My dear child, you must have been hallucinating. There is no such creature in the Thunder Court. Emberhart belongs in the Realm of the Sun."
I knew I had seen it. There was no way I had been imagining it. It had been real.
But I swallowed the words, for the longer I thought about it, I was starting to wonder if I had, indeed, just been hallucinating.
I wasn't sure, and I wasn't about to argue with Karys, who was already looking more and more irritated by the moment.
"Now then," she said, turning back to me, "Let's get you into something more presentable."
I looked back towards the window, searching the darkness outside for any sign of the creature. But there was nothing there. Just empty, impenetrable blackness.
"Is it normal for Vessels to have dinners with the court members?" I asked, turning back to Karys, hoping for some clue as to what might be expected of me.
"As far as I am aware, it is not. Typically the Vessels are kept separate and contained, locked away like the treasures they are," she continued, her gaze sweeping idly around the chamber.
"But it appears the Thunder Lord and the others have decided to make a special exception for you.
Perhaps they have a special task in mind.
" She smiled, baring her sharp teeth at me.
Special task. Great. That didn't sound ominous at all. I pursed my lips, trying not to think about it too much.
"Here," she said, lifting her hand.
With a flick of her fingers, white light coiled in the air, folding in on itself like mist made solid. When it cleared, a single gown hung suspended above her palm.
"This should suit you nicely."
I studied the garment she had chosen. It was an elegant, floor length gown made from shimmering white silk and fine lace. Its formfitting bodice was embroidered with intricate patterns of gold and silver thread, and its wide skirts were dotted with tiny sparkling gems.
It looked like a gown fit for a queen. Though its whiteness, even lighter than the light gray gown I donned for daily chores, would highlight my lowly station.
Even so, I sighed at how stunning it was.
Everything in their realm seemed to glitter, shine, and sparkle.
After years of wearing dreary, torn and patched homespun, this was a luxury.
"I'm not sure about this. Isn't it a bit too—" I began to protest, but as she shoved the dress into my reluctant hands, I realized there was no room for argument.
"Dress. Now."
I suppressed the urge to sigh and winced at my wounds as I rose, grumbling, "Fine."
I wondered what exactly would be expected of me tonight, and as I slipped on the dress, I made a mental note to avoid potential trouble at all costs.
Because if there was one rule I'd always stuck by, it was never get involved with the fae.
But I no longer had that choice—not when Ciradyl’s killer might be one of them.