Page 18
Story: A Deal with the Shadow King
Maybe a quick chat about personal space would do us both good. The heat of his body is dizzying, the scent of campfire and ripe pears raising all the hairs on my neck to attention.
A tiny half-moon scar is visible under his chin, and I stare at it for a moment. “If all he wants is my magic, why doesn’t he just take it?”
My dark teacher pauses for a long, long time. “Maybe he will, but he’d prefer for it to grow as you serve the realm.” His quiet tone brims with something sweeter than foreboding. More like…hope.
A chill tightens the skin at the base of my neck as I let the bolt fly. It lands slightly closer to the center, but my arms are simply too sore to fire another.
One retrieves the crossbow and hangs it back on the wall. “You can practice in this gym anytime you want. Hand-to-hand combat will be the real challenge, but you’re not ready—you need weeks of physical training to prepare for that. I’ll also teach you how to blend in with the shadows?—”
“I’ve been avoiding the guards back home for months. Blending with the shadows isn’t that hard.” My mind catches up with my boastful claim, and my cheeks flush.
Where the crops did that come from?
One tucks his tongue beneath his canine, his jaw slightly askew. “You’re a surprising student, Miss Darcy.” He looks as if he’s about to add something, but he just spins around and waves for me to follow.
You don’t have to impress him, remember? He’s a man, but he’s not a diplomat, a guest, or a suitor. He’s still your captor.
We leave the gym through the sliding door in the target wall and march under a set of latticed archways past another green hedge until we reach a wide trail. A series of balconies similar to the one I saw last night run along the stone building. Some of them encompass a single room, while others run along the curves of the castle.
A tall Hawthorn tree towers in the middle of the gigantic interior courtyard, and my heart booms in my chest. “Wait. Where are we?”
“The king’s sacred gardens. The castle’s interior courtyard is completely isolated from the rest of the shadow realm. You’d have to run for fifteen minutes in that direction before you’d reach its limits. The trails circle back after that.”
That’s…big.
“I’ve been here before. In a dream.” My voice shakes with a mix of anguish and joy.
He shakes his head. “Mortals do not dream of Faerie. The threads of the Dreaming don’t allow it. You must be thinking of a different tree.”
He’s not lying, but he’s wrong. Another loophole to the “Fae can’t lie” rule. If a Fae believes he’s saying the truth, he can spread false information. This Hawthorn tree is an exact replica of the one I saw in my dreams, and while it’s similar to the scriptures’ sacred tree, it’s different enough for me to be sure.
“In Demeter, we have a sacred tree too,” I explain. “It’s in Gaia’s temple, but it’s not half as big or beautiful as this one—” I force my mouth shut.
I’d love to let him know exactly how wrong he is, given how many times I’ve dreamt of this lovely tree, but it’s smarter to keep a few secrets to myself. If I’m not supposed to dream of Faerie, maybe it means something.
One motions to the smooth rock path. “You will run in the gardens for half an hour, four times a day—morning, midday, evening and night—until you can do so without fatigue.”
His strange command pulls me out of my fascination for the Hawthorn. “Why?”
“To get in shape. I will teach you how to use the punching bag and lift weights. The bibliotheca will be open from noon till midnight, if you want to check out some books. Since you’re meant to accompany me to the new world to hunt nightmares, you not only need some muscle, but some inkling of what awaits you there, sheltered as you were in Demeter,” he says matter-of-factly, his contempt for my country plain as day.
“I don’t appreciate your tone, and I’ll have you know that I’m in excellent shape,” I clip.
“Bah! Maybe by your standards, but you have no idea what the real world is like.”
His wry smile irks my temper, and I cross my arms. “I know quite enough, thank you.”
“Don’t lie to me, kitten. Even from behind this mask, I see your rosy cheeks and hear your quickened heartbeats. The uniform fits you like a glove, and you stand an inch taller in it than you did yesterday in your old-fashioned dress. You’re curious.” He buries his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “If you have to stay here, you might as well learn something useful.”
To my horror, he’s right. If I need to play by his rules, then I might as well learn as much as I can. It’s not like getting in better shape will make me lose the bet.
If only I knew the exact terms…
Mara runs in our direction, wearing only a camisole and lycra shorts—as Baka called the strange undergarments. She slows down as she draws near and eyes me over. “It’s hot as hell. Aren’t you sweaty in that?”
My gaze flicks to the ground between us. “I’m alright.”
I am a little hot, but the way Mara stands there without an ounce of shame floors me.
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