30. Chapter 30
After the council, Yareli left the capital with Augrys and Erick.
Although her fingers tapped and her thoughts remained on the palace, she endured the strain of shadowstepping back to Samire, the Keepers’ underground mountain base, without complaint.
She retreated to her room, claiming she was exhausted from travel, and drew a bath.
The last moments in the reception hall replayed in her head—the pulsing, the queen, and the whispers.
The power you seek.
It was tempting. Attended by some of the strongest Fae in Izmari, the council brought goose bumps to her skin.
She wanted the strength to overpower Tuom fast. It would ensure he’d never harm her or another human again, but…
did she really need that power? She had her own, albeit developing, magic.
The power that awaited her was tremendous in scale; the pulses had carried a heavy residue, just as the palace’s magic had initially reacted on her skin.
It wasn’t until she scrubbed her body clean that the feeling disappeared.
Power had never been in question. How much, however, plagued her, demanding that she answer it now.
Except, she didn’t know. Yareli was a whisper of who she had been, a sliver of consciousness with only fragments from her previous life, and her answer lay in the memories of her childhood, her family.
She stood in the bath; it was now or never. Dressing in a hurry, she decided that it was best she lie down before she attempted to remember.
Footsteps thundered past her door. She stilled, her hand on her bed sheets, ready to get in, but curiosity got the best of her.
Yareli crept along the hallway in the direction the footsteps had gone.
She slowed a few doors down, hearing voices from inside a plain wooden door, and pressed her ear into the wood.
Leo’s voice came through, muffled. “I’ve tried my best to delay, but they’ve ignored me.”
“Are they in the receiving room?” Augrys asked.
Leo said something inaudible.
“Inform them I’ll be there in a few minutes. If they showed up unannounced, then they may do me the courtesy of waiting until I am ready.”
The door opened, and Yareli stumbled inside. She regained her composure and smiled sheepishly. “Hey guys…”
Her heart clenched when Leo looked at her, raising his eyebrows high on his forehead. Augrys, however, did not look shocked; he closed the door behind her.
“I see you’re reenergized,” Augrys commented dryly.
“Enough so that I’d like to attend this meeting too.”
He appraised her, taking in her pajamas. “You need to look the part. Get changed and meet me here in two minutes.”
She grinned, then remembered she had no idea what the meeting was about. “Wait, who’s here?”
“The other leaders of the Keepers,” Leo answered. His eyes had not left her since her arrival, making her uncomfortable.
She cleared her throat. “I’ll go get ready.”
Yareli all but ran back to her room, changed into the second set of her lieutenant uniform, and returned to Augrys’s office. To her—guilty—relief, Leo was no longer there.
Augrys looked up from his desk, mid pen-stroke, and coughed into his fist.
“What?” she asked.
He coughed again, unable to hide the snort underneath it. Bewildered, Yareli glanced at her clothes. Had she forgotten to button her pants?
“Your sash is a mess,” he said at last.
“It looked fine to me.”
He walked toward her, shaking his head. “Your knots are all wrong. May I?”
She nodded. “Well, I haven’t had much time to practice.”
“I’ll fix them.”
He deftly untied the knot at her shoulder. “It’s the second knot that is throwing you off.”
Yareli kept her eyes forward, acutely aware of how close he was to her. If she turned her head, she would touch his fingers—lovely and, quite frankly, sinful fingers. She stiffened when Augrys met her gaze.
“I’m going to do your waist now.” His voice was quiet, soft like his touch, and she hated how her body reacted.
An ardent desire rushed to her core, leaving her every nerve on fire.
He didn’t break eye contact as he knelt, and traitorous god, she almost caved when his fingers brushed against her waist. She swallowed, closing her eyes. A terrible truth lay before her. She really liked him on his knees.
He stood and said, “All done. Your uniform is pristine.”
Her uniform… His compliment was borderline ridiculous, and if she was hopeful—which she wasn’t—it was a pathetic attempt to avoid saying anything that could be misconstrued.
But his eyes spoke the truth, the greens and browns bright in intensity; he was as affected as she was by their close proximity.
No, do not cave to the pretty boy.
“Thanks.” She straightened her jacket.
He stared at her a moment longer, cleared his throat, and said, “You should know that the Keepers mean well. However, they suffer from a common ailment that plagues the Fae—cowardice.” He gestured for her to follow.
“Despite the power we hold, our mastery over magic, we succumb to fear—fear of impoverishment when we already own the land, powerlessness when we already rule our land. It is the malady of living a long life; change is frightening, unwanted, and resisted. In efforts to remain stagnant, they would rather appease those whose greed is insatiable.”
“Then, why are they involved with the Keepers at all?”
“Because their morals tell them the Watchers will be our ruin. It does not, however, cure them of their cowardice.” Augrys held the door open for her.
“But that’s why I am here. I hold them to their oaths and encourage them to overcome their fear, even if it is temporary.
All I need is more time.” He glanced at her. “More time to fix the mistakes of old.”
Yareli remained quiet after that. She followed him, tracing his figure from the top of his head to his boots.
His spiel had been reminiscent of his persona, August; it had held the same optimistic determination he had effortlessly given off.
For the first time since regaining her memories of him, she hesitated.
What if August had held more truth to who Augrys was?
But she was afraid of what she would do if it were true.
Would she reclaim her feelings? Would it matter?
He had hidden himself, lied to her, and she didn’t know who he was.
To her relief, they arrived at the greeting room, and her thoughts quieted. The space was simple, wide and sparsely furnished. The walls and floors were made of the same smooth rock as her quarters.
Five Fae sat in armchairs facing away from the entrance.
Upon Augrys and Yareli’s arrival, the guests shifted, watching them make their way to the front.
This time, however, Yareli wasn’t intimidated; their restlessness fed into the picture that Augrys had painted—they were a hair’s breadth from throwing the towel in.
She stood straighter, emboldened by their behavior, and scanned their faces.
Including Augrys, six Fae comprised the Keepers’ leadership. The Fae on their right was dressed in the Fire Court’s color, black. Next to her were two Fae in traditional light blue from the Air Court. Across from them was Leo and another Fae in rich brown she didn’t recognize.
“Augrys,” one of the two Air Court representatives said. She wore her hair short, shorn completely on one side, revealing a beautiful blue tattoo. “We’ve come in the wake of the Keepers’ Village destruction. From what we understand, you have settled the survivors here for the foreseeable future.”
Augrys replied, “For the foreseeable future, Linn.”
“The Lhuth Mountains, although vast, were never intended to be a permanent base for refugees,” the Fire Court Fae said. She had her graying hair tied back in a slick bun. “Samire cannot sustain them through the upcoming winter.”
“And yet, they survived in the Keepers’ Village, Ohna. They will adapt. In fact, Leo tells me they’ve already figured out an irrigation system for an underground farm.”
“That’s right. It took a little ingenuity, but it wasn’t hard to implement,” Leo confirmed. “We are, if nothing else, full of unconventionality."
Yareli smiled. He was, after all, an inventor at heart, and there was no invention he could not devise. He caught her smile and gave her a tentative one of his own in return. It made hers falter, unsure of his intention.
Ohna continued. “Any more development in the mountain puts us at risk of exposure. The Fire Court has increased its patrols, including the Lhuth. We are treading on thinner ice than before.”
“We were always walking on ice here,” Augrys retorted. “This is not new to us—simply a new development in our situation.”
“It’s different this time,” the second Air Court representative said. “Centuries, that’s how long the Keepers’ Village had remained hidden. Now, not only did we lose our primary base, but they sent their nox army after us. The tides are turning, and they are not in our favor.”
Yareli bit the inside of her cheek, refraining from uttering a piece of her mind. Augrys—who had not taken a seat—laughed, startling her. It was a joyless laugh, more spiteful than not.
“Nil, I’m afraid I must be the one to remind you that we have never been on the tide’s winning waters.
We have scrambled to rescue political refugees, scrounge up enough political pressure to stop a Watchers’ proposal once every century, but victory?
We have been far from it. This escalation was destined to happen, and now, we must rise to the challenge—burn or be burned.
“We know, without a doubt, that the Watchers are involved in the emergence of the nox, but we cannot prove it. We know they aim to destabilize Izmari’s political landscape by delegitimizing our queen, but we can only stall it.
We know their ambitions, but we cannot stop them.
Do you still believe we were ever holding the winning cards? ”
Nil’s face fell, and two pinpricks of red appeared on his cheeks.