Page 8 of Boundless

It had been thirteen days since her death. My eyes refused to close because there were no more stars in the dark of the chamber.

But now this bird was, and he looked…warm. Like a real bird. The details, the way the light bent and mixed with shadows to create a beak and eyes and the lines of the feathers on its small wings—I had never quite seen anything like it before. It made me want to do it, too. It made me want to create something. It made me…excited.

Which I hadn’t been in thirteen days and thirteen nights.

The bird then moved, beat the little wings and flew down the hallway. It had found me just as I was about to enter my mother’s chamber, which was nowmychamber, at least until they put someone else to sleep there with me. I had two beds, and nobody had two beds all to themselves in the servants’ quarter.

As I watched the bird fly away, I had the urge to stop it, keep it here with me in the dark corridor just a little longer. I liked the light of it. I liked the shape.

But the bird stopped on its own at the end near the corner and turned toward me again. Watched me with those eyes that were made of light. Flew toward me again halfway, then back to the corner.

I realized it wanted me to follow.

I did.

Maybe it was the light. Maybe it was the details. Maybe it was the fact that I did not want to be alone all night again—and I was not allowed outside during the bigger feasts that the king held in the palace. The shadows were deeper now. I didn’t like the sound of my own breathing.

Maybe.

Either way, I followed the bird.

Down the corridor and through the hallways, toward the main stairway that led back into the Midnight Palace. Nayara kept me in the kitchen since mother died, to help her, and also so she could keep her eye on me. She still cried when she cooked. Hadn’t stopped for thirteen days. I wished I didn’t have to see because then I wanted to cry, too, and I was no longer little. I was six years old.

Even so, I wasn’t allowed back into the palace on my own, and Nayara had already sent me to the chambers for the night. But the bird continued to fly, and I continued to follow it. None of the help stopped me—they were used to having me and theother children of servants walking about. They didn’t seem to be able to see the bird at all, though. It would fly right in front of their eyes, but they wouldn’t even move away or react.

The Midnight Palace was vast and full of shadows, and I’d been to most parts of it with Mother while she cleaned. I’d been to the part where the bird flew, too, and I thought maybe it was going to continue to lead me around the corridors forever.

Instead, when I turned a corner and saw the woman waiting there, smiling at me, and the bird faded away into nothing, I realized it had really wanted me to follow it. I realized that maybe I should have stayed in the chamber instead of coming after it.

“Tell me your name, boy.”

Her voice was soft but sharp at the same time. I considered lying—I’d never seen her before, but she wasn’t help. And she wasn’t Midnight, either. Her hair was white, like snow. Her dress was a silvery white, just like that light of the bird had been, and her eyes were a bright blue, like the pictures of the seas in daylight in the books Mother had read to me.

I thought I should be wary of this stranger, even afraid, but I wasn’t. Just like the bird, she made me curious.

“Rune,” I said in a whisper. It was always better to speak in whispers when we weren’t in our chamber, Mother said.

Of course, Mother was no longer here.

“And I am Veyra.” The fae leaned forward a little bit, and I was still not afraid. I was more curious than ever about her hair—it looked unreal. And the colors in her eyes looked so different from other eyes I’d seen.

She was beautiful, just like her name. Just like the bird had been. Full of light and full of shadows at the same time.

When I spoke next, I reminded myself not to whisper. “You…you called for me.”

She smiled bigger, and I decided I would never see something more beautiful if I lived a few centuries.

“I did. You saw my bird.” She raised her hand, opened her fingers, and showed me that same bird that was now sitting in the center of her palm.

I couldn’t look away as I nodded. I couldn’t stop analyzing the shadows on the little bird. I could make shadows and lights, too, though Mother always told me to never tell. Never show anyone.Never, no matter what.

It was a secret—just likemyname.

I was a secret, but I was never sure why.

Then the fae closed her fist and the bird disappeared, and now I couldn’t wait to be alone in the chamber to see if I could make one of my own.

“I’m glad you decided to follow it,” she said and straightened up again.