Chapter Thirty-Seven
Avari
‘Miss Avari?’ A short, elderly woman in a patched-up flowery apron appeared in the foyer. ‘If you follow me, I’ll take you to our Lord.’
The mysterious lord. The title alone made my stomach twist. I lived in the Elemental Lands my whole life and never once heard of the Isles of Shadow. Then again, I’d been sheltered and kept in the dark, so perhaps that explained it.
Even in my foul mood, walking beside the woman, I couldn’t help appreciating the wooden accents and the cottage warmth of the vast estate.
But the air felt too still—like the house itself was holding its breath.
The building had a soul; it breathed with me, tracking every move as if something about me piqued its interest.
‘It’s through this door,’ she said, leaving me there as I stared at the heavy wood and wondered whether I was ready for whatever waited beyond it.
What did he want? Political leverage? My dragon? A halfling for some twisted reason?
I knocked twice. The doors opened before I could attempt a third. A tall, black-haired man dressed in opulence—a velvet abyss of a suit—stood waiting. Older than me, though fae rarely showed age until a couple of hundred years in, faint lines creased his forehead.
‘Finally,’ he said, voice smooth and unsettlingly amused. ‘I’ve waited a long time for you.’
He took a seat on a dark leather sofa and gestured for me to sit beside him. I was done letting men tell me where to sit, so I chose a chair opposite him instead.
His lips curved into a faint smile. ‘Do you know why you’re here?’
I glared. ‘I’m still waiting on the welcome package.’
To my surprise, he laughed genuinely. ‘I like you. You remind me of myself, child.’
‘Am I here so you can reminisce, or will someone actually tell me why I was dragged here against my will?’ I kept my tone bright enough to hide the venom beneath it.
‘Well, introductions first. I’m Frideric Nightborn, Lord of the Isles of Shadow. And you, my dear, are my daughter.’
My eye twitched. Every coherent thought fled, leaving disbelief and a stampede of questions.
My lungs forgot how to work. ‘I don’t have a father.’
A low laugh rumbled in his chest. ‘I’m fairly sure your mother needed a man’s cooperation to whip you up.’
‘And why would I believe you’re that man? You could be lying. Why would you care after so long?’
Trust was in short supply these days.
Walking toward a cupboard, he retrieved a golden teapot and two cups. He poured tea for both of us and leaned back. ‘I only learned about you recently. I would have come for you sooner otherwise.’
‘And I’m supposed to believe that because… what?’ My temples throbbed. ‘We don’t even look alike, and our powers aren’t aligned. I have fire, not shadows.’
Studying me for a moment, he looked puzzled. ‘Yes, that part’s odd. But you are my blood—I can sense these things.’
I snorted. ‘Oh really? Where were your senses when I was born?’
He set his cup down and sighed, almost apologetic. ‘Shadows don’t work in Ortensia. I only sensed you when you entered Fogoya.’
Impossible. ‘Why wouldn’t they work in Ortensia?’
‘Your mother’s treachery. The witch hates me.’
He actually looked pleased about it, and for a moment, I almost smiled. My mother hated me too—maybe that was hereditary.
‘So hypothetically, let’s say I believe you,’ I started. ‘Why don’t I share your powers? You’d think I’d have at least a trace if I were related to you.’
The man clicked his tongue. ‘You likely have more than a trace, but you wouldn’t have known living in Ortensia.’
‘Nonsense,’ I snorted. ‘If that were true, it would’ve shown up in Fogoya.’
‘It has,’ he replied, eyes flicking to the small shape coiled at my neck. ‘Otherwise you wouldn’t have that creature around you.’
The shadow serpent.
It had followed me ever since the Cave City hike, sleeping soundly most of the time. As he spoke, I felt the faint brush of scales against my neck—lazy, deliberate. The creature almost hummed, as if agreeing with him.
‘It’s an animal,’ I said warily.
The lord laughed. ‘It’s a dead animal given a shadow form. It wouldn’t stay with you unless you were of shadow too.’
A dead animal in shadow form. Brilliant. ‘So you bring animals back to life?’
‘Does it look alive to you?’ he countered, amused.
‘Could you bring it back?’
‘As much as I like to think of myself as a god, I don’t control life and death to that extent.’
Interesting choice of words. ‘Are you saying you control it to some extent?’
‘All dark fae do, to varying degrees. Ask your brother; he’s a fine cautionary tale.’
‘I don’t have a brother,’ I said flatly, convinced the entire household was deranged.
‘Of course you do. The man whose shoes you vomited on.’
I blinked. ‘You mean the one who kidnapped me, shoved me through a raging vortex of shadows, and expected me to walk it off?’
‘Sounds about right.’ He scratched his beard, searching for justification. ‘He was used to being an only child. I spoiled him too much. Then Miriam was born, and he’s struggled with sharing ever since.’
‘Poor thing,’ I muttered. ‘What a tragic life. How old is Miriam?’
‘She’ll be a hundred in a few weeks. Time flies,’ he said seriously, as if his explanation for Alec's actions made sense.
‘Oh, of course. He definitely needs more time.’ They were all insane. Still… for a heartbeat, something in me wanted to believe him—to think I hadn’t come from just her.
‘I’d like to go back now.’
‘Not a problem,’ he said easily. ‘As soon as you learn to use your shadows, you can portal yourself wherever you like. Until then, Clara will show you to your room. We’ll have a family dinner in a few hours.’
…Crap.