Chapter Thirty
Four days later, Lila and I eat herbed potatoes in the Mouth before our shift.
The kitchen is warm and fuzzy, the clatter of the next meal filling the space.
It feels like a new normal, one that I want to resist but feel relieved exists.
Carter trudges in, holding a sack of towels, his face grim.
He collapses into a chair opposite us at the center table and groans.
“That bad, is it, love?” Fern asks from the stove, cheeks ruddy from the steaming pot.
“They’ve been at it all day.”
My fork screeches against the plate. A passing errand boy giggles.
So they’re still trying to find what I brought to the bedchamber that night.
When I returned to Lila’s room four days ago, she asked not what happened.
Instead, she gave me a change of clothes and we passed out in her double cot, both too exhausted to lace me back to Illusion.
Still, she did not inquire when we received word the next morning that we were dismissed for two days.
When it happened again, my smugness spoiled to regret.
“So, the king is enraptured by another female,” Fern says, following up.
“You think he has moved on from Kassandra?” I ask, but in truth, I had been wondering.
“Maybe he’ll just marry another Reign like they all do,” a laundry Scarp adds, grabbing the bag from Carter’s feet.
“Think we’d all go deaf if this is the one,” he says. “They’re so strangely loud.”
“Aren’t they always?”
Lila clutches my leg, whispers that we can talk in her room. It feels as if we are the couple and I have cheated. An emptiness washes through me. I shovel the last of the meal into my mouth, collect my plate, and stand.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
I feel several gazes on us. “Just need to handle a few financials back in Illusion. I’ll meet you under the stars tonight. I promise.”
“Okay!” But Lila’s bright, pleasant tone disrupts me.
It is the one she gives the king.
—
Faeries watch as I weave through the common room in the Nest. My hand tugs down the hem of my golden Reign uniform. I’m taking it off next week, I want to tell them. Just one more week, and then I’ll be Illusion again.
I join the line at the creditor’s counter. A raven-haired male faerie shakes a finger at the teller, who puts down his quill and adjusts his glasses. I recognize the weathered face, the calm demeanor. Silas, the halfling who spoke with me.
“This is the most outrageous complaint against me!” the faerie screams, face beet-red.
“I understand—”
“I didn’t even do it.”
“In three years, the Council of Keepers will vote on a law that allows faeries to dispute complaints—”
“How the fuck does that help me now?”
“Well, I just—”
The faerie spits. Saliva splatters against Silas’s glasses, his face.
“Hey!” I yell, grabbing the faerie’s shoulder and yanking him back. “What’s your problem?”
The male blinks in surprise before his face distorts with rage once more. He jabs a finger in Silas’s direction again; the halfling pulls out a handkerchief and wipes down his spectacles.
“My problem? That hybrid cunt is fucking me over.”
Silas stops cleaning his glasses. My blood turns to ice.
“He’s just trying to do his job,” I say. “It’s not his fault—”
“Fae-fucker!” he shouts.
I groan. “Let’s just—”
“I can smell it on you.”
My body stiffens. There’s no way he could, but it’s too late—the faerie’s face splits open with glee.
“I knew it,” he says.
I wince. Heads turn in our direction.
“You do not deny it?”
I can’t. Even if I tried, the blood oath would trap the words in my mouth.
“She doesn’t deny it!” he shouts, laughing to the growing number of witnesses, blocking the view to the creditor’s counter.
My genius sparks, flaring to life, expanding its wings.
I grapple to tame it, but the thing inside me dives and dips from my control.
This is not what it was before. My eyes have returned to normal, but the change to my genius has stayed.
The routine exercises are laughably easy.
It is not just stronger—it feels smarter.
It feels like its own creation. It feels alive.
Let me out, it seems to ask. Let me fly.
“You’re a fae-fucking whore.”
Flames erupt from my fingertips, warming my skin without burning it.
Gasps around me. Fire licks up my forearms, and I turn on the faerie, who pales. “Say it again.”
His mouth clamps shut.
“Miss Avery,” a voice cuts in, calm and gentle. “There’s a credit issue on your account we need to discuss.”
Silas.
Turning, I see the halfling male, face grave, twin flames in his glasses. He looks like a monster with those fiery eyes. A blink later, I realize that it is my reflection, my power. I am the monstrosity.
“Avery?”
A child’s voice. A familiar one. Benji.
The boy gapes at me, at my arms, at the crowd. Something in me sputters out, dies. The flames fall beneath my skin once more.
“How’d you do that?” he asks, his voice touched with trepidation and wonder.
“I…don’t know.”
There’s a shuffling as Glenn emerges, putting a hand on Benji’s bony shoulder. By now, faeries have backed up, and as Silas gestures, they part ways, staring.
I go with Silas, Glenn ushering Benji away. Only the raven-haired faerie will not move, so we maneuver around him. He spits on me regardless.
—
Silas sets up the tea and I heat the water for both of us. He pulls crackers and an apple from his cabinet and places them on the table. He looks to me.
“Apologies. I only have enough lunch for one.”
“This is great, thank you.” I take a sip of the lemon-ginger tea. “Last time I was here, I thought you were lucky for taking lunch in private. But perhaps it’s for protection.”
Silas stares down at the table. “I wouldn’t like tellers, either, if I were a faerie.”
“But as a halfling, the fae…”
“Tolerate us. Most privileges are just arbitrary advantages established and doled out prior to our birth. It’s a system of luck, not morality.”
“And we can become Unluckie at any time,” I say. Benji was the least tattooed young servant at the coronation. An hour later, he was the most indebted. Observing my own arms, I can still visualize how they looked when the king paid off half my debt before Dominik returned it.
Slipping on my moth ring, I wait until he puts on his owl one—a symbol of our sworn oaths.
“You cannot pay off another’s debt until you have paid off your own,” I say. “This leaves the fae safe, the faeries controlled. Yet all halflings have about two rings, and still typically thrive.” I meet his eye. “Why not just pay off the debt with so little left?”
Silas leans back. “You are astute.”
“I am determined.”
“The tattoos are reminders of who we are.”
“The halflings choose two rings?”
He tilts his head to listen. Despite our oaths, we dance in dangerous territory. He lowers his voice. “They choose not to be targets. A fae who accidentally perceives another fae in place of a halfling can lead to two deaths.”
They…cannot tell. Without the tattoos, they cannot tell the difference between halfling and fae.
Silas withdraws his hands. “I’ve said too much.”
“Wait.” I lean forward. “Please, it’s just—I have this…brother. He’s a little brother to me in every way but blood, and I need to help him. You just saw him.”
He looks away. “I did.”
“You know the debt will drain everything from him, and soon they may send him to the mines. He’s a hard worker, but his luck has turned, as you said. I want to do it legally—provide for him.”
“He won’t inherit your debt.”
“But someone else will, and I’d like to not burden them or Benji. How can I ensure the balance becomes null?”
“You can’t.”
I deflate, heart sinking. Whatever the next step is, it’s too far for him.
So I nod, standing. Silas does not look at me.
He just stares at the table, wringing his own hands.
Crumbs scatter across the surface; the tea has gone cold.
His shoulders sag, and before me, I do not see the terrifying teller, the heartless halfling.
I see a weathered creature who bestows bad news on hundreds of faeries each day, his only reprieve being a silent lunch.
“If you’d ever want to swap peace for company, let me know,” I say.
Those sun-spotted hands stop twisting. “Why would you offer that after I’ve turned you down?”
“Because you stand with one foot in Illusion and another in Reign. And only lately have I appreciated how difficult that must be.”
Silas gives a rueful smile. “Lunch would be nice.”
Nodding, I depart, hope blooming anew. While I am gathering enemies in every House, and at every level, I may as well find allies, too.