Chapter 22
Caeo
“Wake up, my child,” a voice says. My mother’s. But it’s different. Lighter.
My eyes blink open.
Splotches of sunlight break through the leaves outside a large open window, and I’m lying on a bed that’s as soft as a cloud. I wipe the sleep from my eyes, then groan as I prop myself up on my elbows.
Wait a second. “Where am I?”
The walls of the oddly shaped room seem to be made of trees, with rich brown trunks of various thicknesses, from the width of my thigh to larger than I could wrap my arms around.
Polished wood and globular, open-air windows fill the gaps between them, while vines hang from the domed ceiling.
Plush animal furs cover the wooden floor.
“Home,” my mother says, sitting on the edge of the bed. She’s wearing an elaborate gown in a deep forest green, her dark hair somehow looking… bright?
It isn’t just her hair—her eyes sparkle, her cheeks are rosier, and her posture is straighter.
“I must be dreaming.” A painful knot twists in my throat, like it does whenever I say something that isn’t true.
My stomach drops. If this isn’t a dream, then what’s going on?
An almost creepy smile stretches across her face as she rests her hand on my leg. “You’re not. This is real.”
I swallow, unnerved by the person before me. “You look… healthy.”
“Yes. I’ve been restored. As have you.”
I glance down at my bare chest. A thin blanket covers everything below the waist.
“Where are my clothes?!” I tug the blanket higher to cover myself and pull a heavier one from the foot of the bed over my lap.
“Hush. I’m your mother. I’ve seen you bare countless times.”
“When I was a child!”
She makes a tsk sound before crossing the room to a wooden wardrobe, then tosses a pile of clothes onto the bed before moving to the window, her back to me. I scramble to pull on the pants and shirt.
The pants, made of supple leather, hug me tighter than I’m comfortable with. And the shirt—it’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. Soft, smooth, and… shiny? Its cut completely ignores the rules of modesty, revealing all of my neck and a decent chunk of my chest.
Making it obvious that my father’s charm is gone.
“Where’s my necklace?”
Mother turns to face me, the dazzling green of her eyes blazing. “You don’t need it anymore.”
“You don’t get to decide that. It’s mine. It was my father’s.” I grimace as the knot twists painfully again.
It wasn’t?
No—that doesn’t matter. “You gave it to me. You had no right to take it.”
She cocks her head. “It was originally mine. A piece of the Land that I split with you, for our protection. Your father ‘would have wanted you to wear it’ only because he wouldn’t have wanted a half fae child.”
My mind goes blank.
“A what now?”
Mother sighs, then opens the drawer of the small bedside table, pulling out a dark, round object. “I do not enjoy repeating myself.” She holds it up in front of me.
It’s some kind of mirror, darker than most, but my reflection’s still clear. I swallow the lump in my throat, then snatch it from her, bringing it closer.
My eyes, no longer gray, reflect back at me in a vibrant blue that almost glows in the darkness. The tips of my ears point slightly, and I reach up to feel them.
Oh fuck.
It isn’t a trick.
But it has to be, right?
I bend one back and forth, then the other, too. A sharp sting shoots through me when I pinch it, making it throb. My heart pounds in my ears.
My fae ears.
Because I’m half fae.
“H-how did I not notice before?”
“The necklace. It kept the Fallen from noticing your fae features. Because of your father, that included yourself.”
I lower the mirror, focusing on my mother’s ears. They also point at the tips, but at a sharper angle than mine.
It’s like someone pushed all the air out of my lungs. My legs give out, and I collapse against the edge of the bed.
I bring the mirror back up, scouring my face—nothing else pops out as noticeably different, unlike my mother’s, which I can only describe as sharper than I remembered.
“Half fae? I really am half fae?”
“Yes. When I was exiled to the mortal lands, I was alone, without my family. I decided I would make a new one. I found a man of acceptable appearance with proven virility and took him to my bed.”
I blink, catching up to what she said. “Proven what?”
“He had already fathered six children. It would have been miserable to bed a Fallen and not receive the child I sought.”
“If he had six children… was he married? You seduced someone’s husband?”
Mother scoffs as she trails her finger along the wall. “There was no seduction involved. I simply took what I needed.”
My stomach pushes into my throat. She took? Like… by force?
The room closes in around me.
I don’t—I can’t…
“I think I’m gonna be sick.” I bury my face in my hands.
Not only am I not human, but I only exist this way because she… she…
I can’t even touch that right now. To go from knowing nothing about him, to this…
Fuck.
“Temper your thoughts. Get some fresh air. See our kingdom.” Mother’s voice echoes through the hollows of my mind as she takes my arm and pulls me to my feet. My skin crawls at her touch, but my mind clears as my body drags itself where directed, and I look out the window.
What the…?
We stand high in the canopy of a forest, full of oblong wooden structures built into the branches of the trees.
Wooden walkways connect each of them, with people—fae—strolling along.
While sunlight breaks through the leaves above in patches, warm orbs of flickering light float along the paths, brightening the shadows.
But the colors. It’s as if even the brightest shades in Haven were still half gray, and I never noticed until now. Rich greens and browns breathe into the air, as if the colors themselves are alive. I swear they even have a pulse.
I rush to the window on the opposite side of the room. The trees are less dense on this side, opening into far-off fields, full of wildflowers, and a sky that glows with a blue as radiant as my eyes.
“It’s so… bright.”
“This is how the world is meant to look,” Mother says. “It’s unfortunate you haven’t been able to see it until now.”
My wonderment dims at the edge in her voice. This is just a distraction from what’s important.
I turn away from the window. “Why are we here? You said you were exiled? Why were you able to come back?”
Mother pats my arm. I flinch away, and she shakes her head before sitting on the bed with a sigh.
“In the simplest terms, I was Queen of this land—Aedys, the northern realm. Before you were born, my husband, Gethin, turned against me. He took stewardship of the realm and cast me out. I was given a piece of the Land to hide my nature, as well as some water to sustain me in the Forsaken Lands, but I eventually ran out.”
My eyes narrow. “Your illness? You became weak when you ran out of water?”
“I lost many of my abilities then, and while it certainly made things worse, the weakness was the cost of the Land’s protection, so I wouldn’t be discovered in that decaying world.”
A decaying world? “Is that what you mean by the Forsaken Lands?”
“Yes. The realm you know as Landore.” Her voice hardens, her thin, dark brows pressing sharply down. “They were once faelands, but the Fallen desecrated them in their greed, their lust for power. It is our duty to restore them to their natural state.”
I hold back a groan as I lean against the window ledge. Asking questions was supposed to make things clearer, not spin the world even more.
“Is that what the Border Wars were? The fae… restoring the land?”
Mother nods. “With every win, we encroached further, freeing the Land from the abuses She suffered at the Fallen’s hands.”
Why is she talking about the land as if it’s a person?
Because that’s the most outrageous thing she’s said so far. I’m half fae, and the ground is alive. Makes about as much sense as praying to Fortune.
“What abuses?”
“Clearing forests to build cities and farms. Rerouting rivers to feed their fields. Stealing nutrients from the earth for their crops. Stripping the mountains of their iron and gold. Need I go on?”
“So… farming is evil now?”
Mother stands, her glare ramming into me so hard that my younger self would’ve fled from the incoming beating. “It is a violation. Upsetting the balance necessary for the prosperity of all.”
So basically, our entire way of life is an insult to the fae. Or, humans’ entire way of life, because I’m apparently not one. Just half.
Fuck. I could really use some long leaf right about now.
Her voice calms as she joins me at the window.
“Everything you see has been given to us freely by the Land. We make our homes from fallen wood and stones crumbled off mountains by wind and rain. Our clothing, from the skins and furs of the animals we tend. We cherish and respect the Land, and in return, She gifts us our magic and long lives. Which She reclaimed from the Fallen after they betrayed Her.”
“But humans have magic—incanting.”
Mother’s face twists with disgust, a harsher expression than I’ve ever seen. She could be a stranger, anger flushing her rosy skin.
“The Second Betrayal. The Fallen, who coveted our gifts, wrested them from the Land in their ultimate act of violation. That is why incanting drains the life from everything nearby. Why the Academy of Incantation sits at the center of a desolate wasteland.”
The sheer vitriol dripping from her every word…
“Then why did you choose to live there?” I ask. “Out of everywhere in Landore, why live in the one place that offends you the most?”
Her lips curve inward before she answers, then her face relaxes into slightly less concerning territory. “Opportunity. Living there allowed you to attend the Academy and learn the secrets of incantation. That will be valuable knowledge in the war.”
My pulse quickens. “But the war’s over.”
“Not for long.” She runs her fingers along the edge of the window, and the smile forming on her crimson lips sends a shiver down my spine.
I step away on instinct. “But—people will die.” Like Reid. He just wanted to incant, not fight. How long will it take for him to get pulled in?
“Our losses are acceptable if it means restoring the Land to Her glory.”
Fuck. Pressure builds in my chest, compressing my lungs. What kind of person can be so casual about so much death? How is this person my mother?
What happened to my life?
“But I didn’t learn anything valuable,” I say, desperately stabbing for holes in her plan. “I failed out. I can’t incant to save my life.”
“You can’t incant because you’re fae.” She tilts her head. “And yes, I am disappointed with how little effort you put into your studies, but I’m confident at least some useful information permeated that skull of yours.”
Panic tightens its grip, sweat dripping down the back of my neck. “But we can’t go to war against my home.”
Mother’s eyes pierce into me. “This is your home. These are your people—not the Fallen. I am their queen, and you their prince.”
…Prince?
My stomach drops. Again. It must’ve reached the forest floor by now.
“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” I feel my way down the wall as I crumble to the ground. At least the rug’s soft.
I close my eyes, my lungs struggling, then bring my hand to my face. How long have I been awake? Ten minutes? And she’s ripped my entire world away, shoving a new one in its place.
Breathe.
“It’s a lot to take in at once, isn’t it?” Mother’s voice softens as she crouches next to me, mussing my hair like she did when I was young. It used to be comforting.
“Perhaps I should have been more considerate,” she says. “Let you settle in to being fae, first.”
I don’t have the energy to pull away, too busy focusing on my breaths. “Because that’s something I can just settle into,” I mutter.
“Is it so difficult to accept? You’ve always possessed fae qualities—you simply didn’t realize it.”
I drop my hand from my eyes. “Like what?”
“Your ineptitude in lying, for one. Your Fallen half seems to allow it, but your fae blood makes it extremely unpleasant. And the voracious attraction the Fallen have toward you.”
My brow shoots up. “That’s a fae trait? How does that even make sense?”
She shrugs. “They long for what they’ve lost. They can sense your connection to the Land, even if they don’t recognize what it is.”
“So that’s it? People just like my fae blood?” That stings. I haven’t always enjoyed the attention, but getting girls was always the one thing I was good at.
Mother runs her fingers along my hair. “It’s no different from being beautiful. It draws the eye, but won’t keep someone around if they don’t like what’s underneath.”
“Uh huh.”
Despite the weight of everything she’s dropped on me, we’re back to familiar terrain: cold indifference to my feelings, followed by just enough coddling to lure me back into her graces.
Not this time.
“Remember,” she continues. “I am fully fae, unlike you—I can’t simply say things because I’m your mother.”
Sure. Because this is how mothers treat their sons. Now I’m gonna spend the rest of the day questioning everything she’s ever said to me.
I force a half-smile, the best I can manage right now, hoping it’ll bring this conversation to an end.
It doesn’t.
“You are a unique blend of both mortal and fae, and there’s bound to be some benefit in that. Once you learn to harness your gifts, I have little doubt you could become a beloved Crown Prince of Aedys.”
“What happened to being more considerate of rushing me into things?”
Mother chuckles, patting my shoulder as she stands. “You’re right, I apologize. I’m sure you could use a break from your dear mother. Shall I send someone to give you a tour?”
My gaze trails along the furry rug as I brush it with my fingers. I’d rather climb back into bed and try to wake up. “Not now. I need some time alone.”
“I understand. I hope to see you at supper.”
I nod absently as the door shuts behind her. My head falls back against the wall, and I take a deep breath, hoping it’ll release all the pressure inside me.
Nope.
My life may have been awful, but it was mine. And now it’s gone, something new stuck in its place.
There has to be a way out of this.