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I tossed all night with little sleep. I saddled my horse hours before dawn, not that he minded. I could tell by the uneven speed of his gait that he wanted out of the Burning Wood as much as I did. Hours later, the suns rose over the tree line. We were far enough from the mountains that I could see the sunlight climbing over the forest and up the peaks behind me. In the morning light, it looked as if the mountains themselves were dipped in gold.

I thought of the king and knew if he ever beheld such a sight, he would see peaks gilded just for him. No wonder the Fae were so protective of their land. Its beauty was unmatched by all the rest of Elverath.

I turned back around and saw that my horse had broken over a hillside. Nested in a valley below was Aralinth. Its gold-capped palace sat at the center of its city. An Elder birch bigger than any that grew in the forest. Its trunk stood as tall as the king’s palace and its branches scraped the sky with blades of gold.

It was a sight no one in the kingdom had ever seen and returned to tell tales of its grandeur.

I would be the first.

FEW PEOPLE STAREDas I rode into the city. My cloak and pin were packed away in my bags, replaced by the simple garb of a traveler.

My charcoal cloak trailed behind my horse as I rode into the city. The houses were built of stone, some of them attached, some large enough to fill with many families. Like the Fae-built cities in the kingdom, Aralinth was built as a circle. Straight lanes that led to the city palace were intersected by curving alleys.

It was easy to notice at the edge of the city with so few people walking along the streets. Most of the houses sat empty, still brilliant and white, with large drapes hanging over furniture. Some were completely vacant like they’d never been lived in at all.

The city was only a fraction of what it once was. I wandered along until the houses grew smaller and people filled the streets. A cascade of florals poured down from the roofs as I searched for an inn. Their vines tangled together in large twists, scaling up the white walls, connecting each dwelling in a canopy of fresh blooms.

I took a deep breath of the scent. The air felt lighter in my lungs, tasted better than any garden in the kingdom. I came across a small inn with a dark blue rose hanging above its door. The sign was painted just like the blooms that blanketed the streets. The sweet scent of dew hung from their petals.

Dew roses. A blossom that only grew within the magical cities of the Fae.

I tied my horse out front and opened the door. My mouth watered at the smells that filled the room. Lush spices, salt, and cooked meat. My stomach growled loudly.

“Sounds like someone’s hungry,” a voice called in Elvish from a nearby room. I turned and lowered my hood.

I nodded to the young innkeeper standing before me. Or at least she looked young. There were no lines around her dark eyes, her brown skin plump and dewy. She was an Elf. I doubted she’d be the only one I’d meet in the Faeland. I never believed the king had killed all the Elves. And seven hundred years was a long time. How many Elves had survived only to have families of their own hidden in the Faeland?

Perhaps the Shadow was one of them.

“We just pulled a deer roast out of the oven,” she said, her brows knitting together as she studied my face. “Do you want some?” she asked.

“Yes, I am very hungry,” I said in broken Elvish. In truth, my Elvish was impeccable, but I needed to play the part of newcomer escapee.

Her brow split open with wide eyes as she caught my accent. I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, making sure she saw the sharp point.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, switching to the King’s Tongue.

I dropped myself into one of the cushioned chairs. There was no one seated in the dining room, but I could hear laughter erupting from the kitchens. Moments later, she returned with a steaming plate of meat and vegetables. I thanked her and dove into the meal. It had been a week since I dined in Caerth, and that food had not been half as tasty.

“Wine?” she asked after I cleaned my plate. Her long, dark hair was kept back in twists. She pushed them over her shoulder as she held a flagon of wine. I placed a hand over my goblet and shook my head, mouth full of food. She smiled and walked back over to the front desk.

I drank some of the water she’d brought with the meal and watched as people passed the windows. Most of them were Elves, which was against the treaty, but nothing less than I expected. Or the king for that matter. I doubted he cared how many Elves hid in the Faeland as long as their numbers were too diminished to pose a threat. From what I had seen of the city so far, Aralinth barely had enough to fill its market, let alone an army.

The door opened again, and a tall figure stepped through the frame. I couldn’t see their face but noticed their pointed ears protruding from brown waves. Intricate little braids lay over their mane like lace. They exchanged quick words with the Elf at the desk and dropped something on it before exiting out the front door, never turning toward me.

The innkeeper stared at the desk with wide eyes. I swallowed a gulp of water just as her gaze cut to me. I put the goblet down on the table and slowly lifted my hand to the dagger at my hip. I recognized the cautious look in her eyes, the stilted gait as she walked over to the table.

I’d been made.

“This is for you,” she said, all the warmness in her voice had disappeared. She dropped the letter onto my plate and shuffled back to the kitchens. I turned the thick parchment over and studied the wax seal. It was a perfect violet circle. In the middle was the imprint of an Elder birch leaf lined in gold.

I swallowed a breath before I opened it. There was only one place the letter could have come from.

I lifted the seal and pulled a thick piece of paper out from the envelope. The scroll was intricate and detailed. Swirls of ink formed a single name at the top of the page.

Keera.

Fuck.