Chapter 17 Talks
Talks
This feels like an emergency.
My father, King Tobias Gale of the Kingdom of Clouds, is at risk of devastating our peaceful kingdom, all thanks to my mundane quest. My stupid, selfish, naive desire to escape for a day.
What if someone like Simon pulls a scheme?
I have no doubt he’s capable. He knew my father was not himself the instant he approved my trip to Aston.
What if he tested my father’s leniency further?
What if he persuaded my father to agree to a power thirsty move that at last puts us at war?
Father in this state would agree to anything. He would yield.
Literal fucking fae.
It would be all my fault. Why did I not think?
Mavick. A rapid, all-consuming rage ignites within me.
Why did Mavick give me a forbidden elixir?
Surely they knew it was illegal—and they gave it to me with no real instruction.
That seems anything but well-intentioned.
They knew I was stupid enough to fall for their plot, whatever it was.
I am a pawn. An ignorant, clueless pawn.
But who took them and why? Did Mavick know what they had done and choose to disappear? Was it staged? Did they intentionally send me on this wild fucking goose chase to separate us while my father wrecks our kingdom with his unconscious malleability?
My mind skips between scenarios at a dizzying speed. It feels as though I’ve eaten a prickly rock. I want to vomit it out. Instead, I swallow it down, the resolve roiling in my troubled gut.
My quest to find Mavick may be more for vengeance than rescue.
When I emerge from the stall a few minutes later—after promising Jasmeen I’d come to her if I am, in fact, in terrible, deep shit—I do not see Brynn and Glo.
I peer around the side of the stall to find them tucked away at the edge of the crowd, still locked in heated conversation.
Glo no longer touches him but does look like she may choose violence at any moment.
Feeling reckless—not to mention an irrational annoyance at whatever secrets they share—I sneak around the neighboring stall to eavesdrop.
There’s enough commotion in the bazaar that they may not notice me.
I get close enough to hear them, but I cannot see them—meaning, they shouldn’t be able to spot me either.
I pinpoint Glo’s voice over the din first.
“She’s tied up with Mavick, Vir. For all the seven hells—what were you thinking?” Glo hisses.
“I didn’t know her missing friend was Mavick,” Brynn responds. He sounds despondent. For the most part, I only know him as confident or irritable—never sad. I do not like how it twists my stomach.
“But you knew by the time you agreed to a binding deal with her, did you not? Why—” Glo stops, likely realizing she’s borderline shouting, exhales audibly, and tries again. “Vir, I love you. I hold nothing against her, but I think there’s something you’re missing here.”
“I don’t know why I did it,” Brynn says, voice so low I strain to hear, “I’m desperate, I guess. I—I gave her my true name and everything.”
“YOU DID WHA—?” Glo’s angry shout is full volume now, causing me to jump. I hear what sounds much the same as a hand slapping over a mouth, a short scuffle, and Brynn releasing a string of Sanctuarian curses.
“Blessit, ow, you did not need to bite me,” he spits.
“I’m your best fucking friend and I don’t even know your true name, Vir! What were you thinking? Do not tell me you were thinking with your godsdamned coc—”
“No, I was not, thank you—I was just—I do not feel she will use it against me. I do not feel that she is lying to me.”
So he believes me. He trusts me. The tiniest bit of pride inflates my chest.
“Has she used it against you? Does it work?” Glo asks quietly. I suppose she knows his blood status, at least.
“Yes, but” —the scoff Glo releases is comical— “I asked her to try it. I needed to know if it even held power.” Whatever face he pulls must give Glo confirmation.
“It does work. What an idiotic gamble, Vir.”
Funny, that’s what I had said.
A brief silence passes between them, during which I imagine Glo paces. She huffs and puffs. Brynn says nothing.
“You heard her yourself back there, she has secrets! She is a mortal. Mortals lie. They actively choose to lie—you know that, right?” Glo demands, and even I wince at the disgust in her voice. “What will happen when she realizes how valuable that is?”
When I realize what? How valuable my ability to lie is? Or how valuable his true name is?
“I mean—that’s why I went through with the deal. I can’t exactly let her wander off now, can I?”
All right… so he doesn’t trust me.
“Plus, I haven’t been totally forthright either, have I?” Brynn says, sounding somehow even more miserable. I wish the confirmation of his calculated secrecy angered me. I wish the sorrow in his voice made me hate him. Somehow, it’s all worse. I feel bad for him.
“That’s different—you’re—UGH, Vir,” Glo exclaims, as though his tone has the same heart-wrenching effect on her. “I want to shake you!”
I do not wish to hear anymore. I turn away and slink back to Jasmeen’s stall. Jasmeen’s brow creases when I re-enter.
“Thea?” she asks, taking in my sullen expression. I am in way over my head and may soon drown in the swelling panic. Perhaps it’s unwise, but here and now, there’s little choice but to trust Jasmeen completely.
“Do you know of a nearby passageway to the mortal realm?” I ask. It makes sense that a mortal living in Sanctuary would know how to get back and forth between the realms.
“The only one I know of is in Royal City—it’s highly guarded.
You need permission from the High Sanctuarian court to use it,” Jasmeen says, nose scrunching at the thought.
“I’ve been learning how to conjure them though.
.. I’m not sure it’s even possible—you know, being mortal and all.
But I’ve been studying practical theories. ”
“Have you ever been able to get permission from the court? I assume you have family in the mortal realm, right? Don’t you visit them?”
“Yes, but it’s been a bit of time. I—I don’t fuck around with the court.
Last time, I hired a conjurer. Conjuring one is not illegal, per se.
.. but it’s become ridiculously regulated.
It requires proper authorization these days.
Finding someone willing to bend the rules is…
well, expensive,” she sighs. I exhale, too.
I cannot pay anyone, unless I convince them to let me once returned to the mortal realm. .. Something tells me this won’t do.
Jasmeen looks confused as she asks, “How did you get here? To Mayhem?”
“I went through a passageway in my friend’s kitchen, but it deposited me right here in the middle of the bazaar and disappeared.”
“Ah, an egress,” she says. “Egresses are easier to conjure because they stay within the realm—but they’re more volatile. You could end up in the wrong place entirely, and they’re known for disappearing after one use. Much harder to regulate because of their temporary nature.”
Go figure. I sigh in defeat.
“Are you leaving?” she asks, now forlorn.
“Yes, I am not sure my friend needs my help anymore,” I say, my voice unsteady. “Do you understand how time works here—comparatively?”
“It’s hard to say—Sanctuarian time isn’t always constant. I can only confirm that it is… well… unreliable.”
This offers very little solace. Unwelcome tears well up.
“Jasmeen, I am so in over my head—I—”
I’m cut off by the sight of Brynn and Glo storming into the stall. I compose myself as best I can. Brynn exudes an aura of feral vexation, while Glo wears an expression heavy with guilt.
“Ah, Jasmeen, nice to see you again,” Brynn says, though his frosty tone makes it sound like a lie.
“Vir,” is all Jasmeen offers, standing to her fullest height.
“Thea,” he says, glaring at me with eyes aflame, “we really need to talk.”
“Do we?” I ask, obstinacy flaring at his boldness.
I dare him to challenge me. His chin dips as he surveys my face, clearly considering throwing me over a shoulder and carrying me out.
But he resists, honoring his promise. His eyes close, and I imagine he counts to ten in his head.
When they reopen, he has managed to calm himself. Somewhat.
“Please, Thea,” he says in that low, honeyed tone, and my stomach does a stupid, nauseating little flip again.
I sigh and turn to exit, but a soft grip tugs at my wrist. For a wild moment, I think our invisible bond tightens—before realizing it’s just Jasmeen’s hand. Her anxious eyes search my face.
“It’s fine, Jasmeen. No worries. I’ll be right back,” I say, pivoting on the spot. “Have you met Glo?”
If we’re to talk, it will be the two of us.
Glo catches on at once and presents an open palm to Jasmeen. “Nice to meet you!” she says with a charming smile. She may favor Brynn’s little sister in these glamours, but those pointed canines are all hers.
Jasmeen warily releases my wrist to shake Glo’s hand. I turn and stalk out of the stall, Brynn on my heels.
“This way,” he says, gesturing between the stalls to the same spot where I eavesdropped on his and Glo’s conversation. He leads the way.
A mysterious numbness has settled over me. I know the panic will return, the fear, the shame at my stupid, irresponsible mistakes. But right now, the unflinching trust I once had in Mavick is crumbling—and it feels oddly akin to heartbreak.
Brynn stops and rounds on me. We scrutinize each other. He runs both hands through his hair. I can taste his unease in the air between us.
“I am sorry,” he breathes. I freeze. Surely he didn’t mean that as a big fae fuck you? His eyes scan my face, registering my confusion.