Chapter 19
Imani wasn’t sure how long it would take for her to get used to Niflheim mornings, but they were not bright and fresh like Essenheim’s. The horizon still bled black every day, and blades of the same dull light cut across the entrance to the Drow elves’ city, casting other parts in deep shadow.
There was nothing cheery about it—it was a grave. It matched her mood perfectly after her last encounter with Kiran.
The city lay below, in a valley at the foot of a mountain, cut by the shadow of moonlight that slipped between the great mass of a storm growing above.
A clearing looked like a path. This early in the morning especially, the settlement below was muted enough to lose its sense of scale.
Yet, if you squinted, the main boulevard became a lane of light you might walk straight across, all the way into Mount Kehemol and beyond.
Despite her despondence at Kiran’s abrupt departure the other night, she felt excited to be visiting the Drow elves.
What lay beyond that path into the mountain?
It was so large she knew it would take days of tunneling to reach the capital on the other side …
but the cave-dwelling Drows might have a way.
It had been a few days since she’d seen Kiran—that bastard—and while she was curious about his whereabouts, she had never felt physically better. Revitalized, she was ready to take on the world. If the Drow elves had a library, she was going to find it and search every inch.
How forthcoming would the Drow elves be about their cavernous city?
Imani wondered as she smoothed out the folds of her dress and straightened her cloak.
Her dark violet dress was made of thick material and caused her silver hair and freckles to shine, even in the low light.
The velvet dress kept her warm against the chill of the mountain air.
She tugged the sleeves down farther to her wrists.
Her red sigils were hidden, but Imani couldn’t help feeling worried.
Esa fell into step beside her. “I’m to escort you to the greeting party, little elf.”
Snapping her head to stare up at her green eyes, Imani curled her lip in disgust. “Never call me that,” she spat.
“You might want to reel that attitude and magic in a bit, Imani,” the pixie said, darting her eyes around.
Imani shot her a glare. “This is who I am. Everyone else can keep themselves in check.”
“Someone is in a mood today,” Esa huffed.
Imani was, but she didn’t really know why.
If she was being honest, Kiran was still irritating her, but she tried to push those thoughts away.
His reaction after they’d had sex hadn’t been anything unexpected.
But she did feel some measure of disappointment knowing that night was the best she’d ever had, while it seemed standard fare for him.
Esa and Imani lapsed into silence.
At the top of the hill leading down into the city, a group of Drow elves stood waiting to greet them. They were tall and lean. All had the same piercing green eyes as Kiran. Their carriages were ornate and dark, almost ominous.
Many of them began eyeing the newcomers, sizing the other group up. Most of the elves openly stared at Imani. Her shadows started writhing under her skin, feeling uncomfortable with the attention. Slowly, their eyes started to get that faraway look, and Imani knew it was the soul draw at work.
“I told you to put it away,” Esa said.
“Shut up,” Imani muttered back and fisted her hand, holding her wand tight.
She might have made a mistake leaving herself too unglamoured, but she was digging her heels in now.
She didn’t want Ayla prancing around like she was better than everyone else.
Besides, Imani hadn’t had a chance to ask Kiran to cast the echo shield again after she’d removed it for him the other night.
As more of their traveling party gathered, Kiran and Ayla finally deigned to appear. Ayla looked lovely in a cream-colored gown and cloak, her own silver hair shining, as well. Imani could barely feel a soul draw from her. Kiran held her hand.
Imani ground her teeth together at the sight, a spark of possessiveness she had no right to feel roiling through her.
She relaxed her breathing and focused on staying still, staring at the ground.
Formal greetings were exchanged between Kiran and the high sentinel, and bows and handshakes went around the First Witch and his entourage.
The high sentinel was a younger man, yet older than Kiran.
His handshake was firm against Kiran’s, and they spoke for several minutes.
The high sentinel’s green eyes kept darting over to Imani.
It was as if a string pulled his face toward her every few seconds.
She stared right back. Look at me, she silently commanded him.
Whipping his head to face Imani, Kiran’s eyes slitted, and Imani slinked farther into the crowd. But Kiran waved her over with a flick of his fingers. He looked like he wanted to breathe fire.
With her head held high, she marched to his side. “Yes, Your Highness,” she said with her head bowed.
Kiran’s hand fell to the small of her back. “Lady Aowyn, this is Master Nylan, High Sentinel of the Drow elves.”
She held out her hand, and he kissed it, staring intently at her. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you appear this morning, my dear. Two female Norn elves and one a high breed at that. The prince has confirmed you’ve lived in the Draswood like his chosen mate.”
Imani measured her words for a moment. “Indeed, I grew up in the Draswood, High Sentinel,” was all she said.
A serpentine grin spread across the sentinel’s face. Although, unlike Kiran, it didn’t make him more handsome. “I realize you’re not a formal member of the court yet, but I’d be honored if you’d join our table at dinner.”
Kiran’s hand pressed harder into her back, and it almost hurt. Heat rolled off his skin and seeped through the fabric of her dress.
“As I mentioned, she’s not a formal member of the court yet,” Kiran said through gritted teeth, but somehow with a smarmy smile.
“I’d be honored to join you.” Imani stole a look at Ayla, who was glaring daggers at her.
“Wonderful.” The high sentinel waved Kiran off. “Come, come; let’s make sure your party is settled. I’m sure you’re tired from your travels.”
No high sentinel would have waved off Tanyl, heir apparent or not. Imani felt a pang of anger for Kiran.
Everyone broke up and started back for their carriages. Imani moved toward hers, but a shadow stood beside her as the crowd thinned. Imani knew exactly who it belonged to, and she wasn’t in the mood.
With one offhand look behind her shoulder at the stone-faced prince, she moved back toward her coach.
Fingers wrapped tightly around her wrist.
Imani let out a frustrated noise at the pain and spun to face the Serpent Prince. They were alone now, except for a few footmen who milled about the area.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he hissed.
“I’m doing nothing! Existing?” she hissed back.
“The echo shield …” He ran his hands through his hair, mussing it. “I know I forgot to put it back on the other night after you recklessly removed it. Everyone was watching you. Ayla was supposed to keep them distracted, but no, of course everyone was fucking watching you, Imani.”
Imani crossed her arms. “Speaking of Ayla, what are you doing touching me? She was right there.” Imani gestured to the empty space where Kiran’s fiancée had been.
He pointed his finger in her face. “Glamour tonight. That’s an order. Until I can find time to cast another echo shield, you’re glamoured so people don’t take as much notice.”
“Notice of what?”
“A true high-bred female Norn elf.”
“That’s what I am,” she snapped. Or, at least, half of what she was.
He paced. “Gods, I knew this was a terrible idea …” he muttered to himself. Then he glanced up at her again, the creature behind his eyes peeking out at her. “Put. Your. Glamour. On.” His words brooked no argument. “There’s a time and a place for your magic, and this isn’t it.”
It made her sick to keep hiding, but she had no choice when he ordered her.
With one last glare, Imani spun on her heel and tore away from him.
The library was inside the mountain, and Imani was granted access—a special treat for mesmerizing the high sentinel last night, despite the glamour Kiran made her wear.
What a joke—the illusion she’d worn. It might have kept his hands at bay, but for the most part, the sentinel acted more interested in her. Still, Imani was able to visit their library after mentioning she loved to read. In the end, the lie was worth it.
As she walked back to her room late one evening, holding two books on wands, she felt more hopeful than she had in weeks. Maybe even a bit happy.
Back inside her suite, Imani hid the books inside her trunk and began undressing herself for bed. As she took off her slip, a flash of red caught her eye in the mirror.
Her stomach dropped, and she rubbed her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut as she ran to the trash can and threw up a snake.
When she opened them again and stood at the mirror, the red was still there.
All three red sigils were shining clear as day on her arms, shouting to the world about her magic and her breed.
The flesh magic was gone now, too. Her black scarring webbed across her cheek.
The flesh magic from her grandmother that had been over her magic had taken the sacrifice of a whole body to last decades. Imani had used nowhere near that level of sacrifice for her spell, and it had weakened faster in her depleted state when she hadn’t fed. In fact, it had only lasted weeks.
Disappointment sank deep in her gut.
Echo shields, flesh magic … they would need a better solution moving forward.
Imani’s heart started pounding, and she began running through the flesh magic spells she knew that didn’t take any entire limbs … There was just one. A blood burning.
And she could only ask one person for help with it.
A clock ticking nearby told her it was far past midnight. She didn’t care. This was an emergency.
Grabbing her wand, she murmured the spell to let the veil of invisibility wash over her, and then she stormed out the door.