Page 12 of A Blade of Blood and Shadow (The Ravaged Kingdom #1)

The male threw blade after blade with alarming precision, pinning his partner to the board. With each new wound he opened, more of that silvery blood splattered. It floated above them in tiny glistening drops, undulating as the drops organized themselves into gossamer strands of pure silver.

After the tenth blade found its home in the female’s upper thigh, the blood solidified into what was unmistakably a chain.

I watched, rapt with disgust, as it launched itself at the knife thrower.

The crowd roared as the chain wrapped itself around the knife thrower’s throat, wrestling the behemoth male to the ground.

His muscles bulged as he tried to escape, but the silvery chain tightened around his throat. The female’s mouth stretched in a wicked laugh, and the crowd went wild.

As the mortals rose to give her a standing ovation, the Ringmaster swept back in. The silver chain abruptly released the knife thrower, and the daggers shot out of the female’s body as if propelled by the magic in her blood.

She leapt gracefully off the board, preening for the crowd as she and the knife thrower took their bows. Then they vanished in another sweep of darkness, along with the blood-splattered board.

I’d seen enough.

The longer I sat and watched, the more I felt as though my senses betrayed me.

Maybe the Ringmaster had used a thrall on the audience, or maybe it was simply an effect of the music and glamour.

Whatever it was, I could feel myself succumbing to the same enraptured state that kept the mortals glued to their seats, shoveling that horrible food into their mouths.

I tried to stand, but my body felt as though it were made of lead — as if there was some supernatural force keeping me in my seat.

Gritting my teeth, I shoved off the bleacher and locked my legs, treading on at least half a dozen pairs of feet as I stumbled over the mortals watching the next act.

I plunged behind one of the cool silk curtains that smelled like incense and magic and blinked in the dim light illuminating the passageway.

A few faelights bobbed overhead, though they weren’t visible from the other side of the curtains.

In the cocoon of violet silk, I could still hear the stunned cries and gasps from the crowd, though they were strangely muted.

The Ringmaster had to have his own dressing area, and I planned to be there when the show ended to ask him about the stone.

Parting the blue silks in front of me, I was met with an angry hiss as two fae sprang apart — a female with shocking pink skin and a male with long curling horns protruding from his head. They looked as though they’d been locked in a passionate embrace, but now they turned to glare at me.

Dropping the curtains back into place, I backed down the narrow passage. More voices whispered and hushed as I passed, and I wondered how many faeries were hidden behind the silks.

The sounds of the crowd slowly faded, and I felt as though I was descending into a tomb.

But then the ground shook, and I heard clapping and cheering in the distance.

Spectators whistled and stomped, and though the sounds were much more muted than they should have been with only the thin fabric separating us, it was a relief to hear them nonetheless.

Feeling weary and impatient, I shoved aside a deep red silk and came face to face with the most terrifying creature I had ever laid eyes on.

She looked as though she’d been fashioned as a female but cursed to live as a tree.

Swirling bark and knots stretched over curves and accentuated rough features, and a pair of silver eyes narrowed as they took me in.

The wood faerie wore no clothing or adornments.

Where she should have had hair, or possibly branches, she had only a mass of dirt-caked roots groomed into a rough style.

Her nose was slender, as was the rest of her, and her long trunk-like arms ended in sharp branches that cracked as she moved.

Tearing my eyes away from the clumps of dirt swinging in her “hair,” I saw what looked like a small chamber illuminated by more faelights. A velvet wingback chair and a fine dressing table were crowded into the space, and something told me this was the Ringmaster’s private dressing room.

“Who are you?” the female hissed. Her voice was like a harsh wind blowing through crisp fall leaves, and it made my insides tighten with nerves.

“I’m —” I swallowed.

What did I say? Hunters and faeries were natural enemies, and this female’s master had no reason to grant me a favor.

In the end, I settled on the truth. “I’m here to see the Ringmaster. ”

The faerie’s eyes flashed, gleaming with malice. “You did not answer my question, huntress . Who — are — you?”

I sucked in a breath, my mind racing. I’d had scant interactions with the fae, but I knew enough from my time in the Quarter to know what not to do. A name — any information — was power in the hands of a faerie.

“I mean no harm by coming here,” I said. “I only wish to ask him a question.”

The faerie sneered. It was hard to track those molten silver eyes, but I could have sworn they fell to my leather jacket — to the exact spot where my witchwood dagger was concealed. “Then I hope you have come to bargain, huntress. Every answer has its price.”

My chest tightened. That was the other absolute when dealing with the fae: Never, ever make a bargain with one.

I was starting to think it had been a mistake to come here. There was no telling whether the Ringmaster actually knew anything about the stone. And, if he did, what sort of price would he demand for that information? Would he let me leave if I refused to pay it?

Suddenly, the hum of fae magic seemed to press in around me, making it hard to draw a full breath. The wood faerie’s thin mouth stretched in a wicked smirk, and I wondered if the rush of power I felt was her doing — a warning that I should leave.

But before I could second-guess my plan any further, one of the silks whipped back, and the Ringmaster appeared before me.

Up close, he was even more dazzling. Not a single line or smear of makeup marred his youthful face. His white hair glowed even in the absence of a spotlight, and his eyes were the deepest midnight blue .

The second they locked on me, I knew he had held that crowd in a thrall. An oppressive wave of magic pinned my feet to the ground, and I found I couldn’t look away.

“Did you enjoy the show, huntress?” he asked genially.

I swallowed, and I could have sworn his eyes followed the exact same path that the wood faerie’s had.

“Are you here to audition to be my next knife thrower? If you are, I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time. I only employ fae.”

“No,” I said, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice despite how helpless I felt. With the sheer power pouring off the Ringmaster, I knew I was no match for him, regardless of how many daggers I carried. “I just wish to speak with you.”

“Very well.” Something peculiar flickered in his expression, but he extended an arm toward his dressing room with the same crispness and showmanship he’d employed in the ring. “Shall we?”

My heart stuttered at the invitation. This was the whole reason I’d come here, yet my hunter instincts thrashed at the thought of stepping behind a curtain with this male. I hadn’t survived so many years in the Quarter by being stupid.

Then again, how much safer was I standing in plain view? Who would intervene if the Ringmaster decided to attack me out here? Certainly none of the fae.

Forcing my feet to move, I followed him into the small dressing area. The silks that cordoned off his chamber were all the same vibrant shade of crimson. They billowed and swayed in a nonexistent wind, giving the impression that I was stepping inside a gigantic beating heart.

Once we were inside, the Ringmaster dropped the thin silk curtain, hiding the wood faerie guard from view.

Immediately, the tent fell silent. I couldn’t hear the roar of the crowd or the whispers from the other fae.

It was as if the Ringmaster’s magic had snuffed out everything going on behind those curtains.

I glanced behind me, unnerved at having my senses cut off.

If the Ringmaster sensed my unease, he didn’t show it.

He just crossed to the huge velvet armchair, shucked off his jacket, and threw it over the top.

“If I may be so bold,” he said, “what brings you to my show?” He sank down into the chair and propped his feet on the stool of the dressing table.

“It is not often I have the pleasure of entertaining one of Silas’s hunters. ”

At the mention of Silas, the blood turned to ice in my veins. I hurriedly arranged my face in what I hoped was a look of cool indifference, but the Ringmaster’s chuckle told me he wasn’t fooled.

“Oh, don’t look so worried,” he teased. “I have little reason to speak to Silas. And, if I ever did, I’m certain we would have more . . . stimulating things to discuss than a wayward huntress.”

I released a slow breath and pressed my palms to my thighs, trying to rein in my terror. It wasn’t a stretch for the Ringmaster to guess that I was one of Silas’s. Every hunter in the Quarter swore allegiance to him, or they ended up dead.

“I came to ask you a question,” I said, once again wondering if it would be wiser to turn and leave rather than reveal that I was looking for the apokropos stone.

The Ringmaster’s eyes twinkled, and that cunning smile of his became almost cat-like. “Information is currency around here. Surely you have not come to my show looking for answers without having something to offer in exchange.”

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek. “What did you have in mind?”

He quirked one snow-white eyebrow. “I’m a male of many interests, huntress.

I’m sure there must be something .” The Ringmaster’s midnight eyes gleamed.

“Tell me something going on in the Quarter that would be to my advantage to know. If it proves stimulating, I might be willing to answer your question.”

For whatever reason, my mind went to the handsome dark fae who’d saved me from those demons. But what did I know about Kaden, beyond his name? Besides that, I didn’t know if his presence in the Quarter would be of particular interest to the Ringmaster. The demons, however . . .

I hesitated. There was a good chance he wouldn’t believe me — not when the Quarter was so well-protected. But it was the only thing I had to offer, and there seemed to be no harm in telling him. “Last night, I was attacked by demons in the Quarter.”

The Ringmaster’s pointed eyebrows rose.

“Three of them. One was a fire demon. Another could invade people’s minds. Control them. The third could split itself into many copies.”

Those eyebrows knitted together as the Ringmaster took the measure of me. “Now that is interesting.” He cocked his head to the side. “Though not entirely plausible. If you’d truly been attacked by three higher demons, you would not be here.”

Of course he didn’t believe me. I wouldn’t believe me, either, though I was annoyed by the implication that I couldn’t defend myself.

“Tell me, child,” the Ringmaster continued. “If there were three demons as you say, how did you manage to survive?”

I opened my mouth but then snapped it shut. I wasn’t going to tell the Ringmaster that I’d slain one of the demons. For him to believe that, I’d have to reveal that I had a witchwood blade — something even a powerful fae like him might be willing to kill for.

“I had help,” I admitted. “From a dark fae. He told me his name was Kaden.”

At the mention of Kaden, true surprise and something like fear flashed in the Ringmaster’s eyes.

My stomach flipped. Maybe I’d been wrong. Perhaps Kaden’s presence in the Quarter was of interest to the Ringmaster.

It only took half a heartbeat for the Ringmaster to compose himself. Whatever I’d seen in his face was gone in an instant, but when he spoke next, his voice was low and deadly. “If I were you, huntress, I’d think very carefully before invoking that name again.”

I frowned, simultaneously annoyed and confused. He made it sound as though Kaden were someone powerful — someone even he feared.

More questions burned on my tongue, but I swallowed them down. I’d come here to learn about the apokropos stone. I couldn’t waste the information I’d traded to satiate my curiosity about Kaden.

“What was your question?” he asked quietly, his expression still clouded by whatever I’d seen at the mention of the strange dark fae .

I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. Semantics were everything with the fae. I could not merely ask him if he’d ever heard of the stone. He might simply say that he had and declare it a fair exchange. Instead, I said, “Tell me everything you know about the apokropos stone.”

Amusement and perhaps annoyance danced in the Ringmaster’s eyes. “That is not a question, huntress.”

I huffed. Of course he was going to make this difficult. I chewed over all the questions I had, settling on the one whose answer would be most useful. “Where would I find the apokropos stone?”

“That I cannot tell you.”

Another non-answer.

“Can’t or won’t?” I countered.

His eyes flashed in warning, which was as good an answer as any.

“I do not know its current location,” he said after a moment.

“It was believed to be lost for many centuries, or else guarded by a fearsome beast in the Otherworld. It was not originally a fae object, though it may have the reputation as such due to its ability to conceal our magic. Much the way a glamour hides our true form, the stone can conceal one’s power — even from other fae. ”

I knew all of this already, of course. It was the reason I’d sought it out.

“Legend says a mortal wished to protect his lover — a witch of the old line who was being hunted relentlessly by demons. He beseeched the gods for a way to conceal her true powers, and the gods granted him the stone.”

I frowned. “Why were they hunting her?”

“You do not know of the Coranthe line?” The Ringmaster sounded genuinely surprised. “They are the same witches responsible for the runes on that magnificent blade you carry.” His eyes flickered to the dagger hidden beneath my jacket, confirming my suspicions that he could somehow see or sense it.

I frowned and repeated my question. “Why were they hunting her?”

The Ringmaster tilted his head to one side, regarding me with a level of interest that made me squirm. “I have already answered your question, huntress, and the show is over for tonight. Come back for tomorrow’s performance if you have something else to barter. For now, it is time for you to go.”