Page 9 of A Court of Wings and Shadows

“I think the king is searching for the Fae Sanctuary.”

My breath caught. “The Light Fae still exist?”

Cordelle hesitated. “According to ancient lore, yes. The account was written six hundred years ago, so there’s no way to be sure if they’ve survived. But…” He looked up, the fire in his eyes unshakable. “I believe the king is looking for a weapon.”

Across the room, Riven shifted from her bunk, brows furrowed. “What kind of weapon?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Cordelle admitted. “I’m hoping these new texts will help. The original theory said the Light Fae had magic untouched by blood or shadow. Pure power. Sacred. Something that could not be corrupted.”

Jax stood from where he’d been polishing his armor and crossed the room, curiosity painted across his face. “You’re talking about the sanctuary like it’s real. I thought it was just another bedtime story, something to scare the nobles who thought they could take everything.”

“It might’ve been,” Cordelle said. “But what if it wasn’t?”

Ferrula, who rarely commented, sat up straighter. “If the Light Fae had magic that couldn’t be corrupted, then maybe they had a weapon that could undo corruption. Cleanse it.”

“Like burning out the blood-fueled madness,” Naia said, stepping closer. “Or purging the twisted fae who turned on their own.”

“Or maybe something worse,” Tae added from his bunk. “A weapon to seal magic away. Imagine what that could do if it fell into the wrong hands.”

The room went quiet at that.

Because we all knew whose hands it would fall into, if the king was really the one hunting it.

“What if the king’s not trying to destroy the Blood Fae,” I said slowly, the thought forming like ice in my chest. “What if he wants tobecomesomething more than human?”

No one answered.

They didn’t have to.

I looked at Cordelle, the question twisting in my gut. “These texts… could they tell us where the sanctuary is?”

“Maybe,” he said. “If we can find enough cross-references, trace the places mentioned… but it’s a long shot.”

My gaze drifted to the wall, to the shadow beyond the stone.

The prisoner.

The one locked beneath the castle since before most of the realm had drawn breath.

“We can’t put this off any longer.” I stood, the words hard and final in the still air. “We need to talk to the prisoner.”

I met each of their eyes, one by one. “If he’s fae, he may have the answers we need.”

And if he didn’t?

Then we were already too far down the path to turn back.

The barracks remained dim but still alive with restless energy. Cordelle had tucked one of the texts back into hissatchel, and Riven had settled into her bunk obviously ready to call it a night. I stood at the center of our space, the air thick with everything unspoken.

“I need to tell you something,” I said quietly.

Everyone looked up, Jax, Tae, Ferrula, Cordelle, Riven, Naia, our fractured little family, each worn and bloodstained in different ways.

“It’s about the Blood Fae,” I said, forcing the words past the knot in my throat. “They’ve been… hunting me.”

Jax blinked. “You?”

Cordelle sat up straighter, his eyes already churning with questions. “Why?”