Page 13

R apid knocking interrupted my mindless staring at the snow out my window. I tightened the blanket around my shoulders. It was a smooth, soft blanket that felt like a hug. I’d wrapped it around me days ago and hadn’t let go since.

It had been a full week since I’d left my room.

A week since the disaster on the bridge.

A week since I’d learned the truth of my mother’s death.

Food kept coming to my room, but I hadn’t invited Koan or Jolter in to join me. I needed space for myself.

I hadn’t done much besides let my mind spin in circles and my sobs cry into a blanket, but I’d needed the space for those things as much as for any other productive things that I might have done.

The knocking continued.

Nobody but Koan would be so persistent, but even he had left me alone until now. Maybe the king told him why I didn’t want to talk to anyone, or maybe he just heard about the disaster I’d made with the karkins and figured I was traumatized.

He didn’t stop knocking.

I sighed and stood up. He was the closest thing I had to a friend here. Perhaps I should give him a proper explanation.

Before I reached the door, he called out. “Callista! This is an intervention! We’re coming in whether you want us to or not. You have one minute.”

The knocking stopped, and I heard Jolter hiss at him. “Koan! We won’t go in there if she doesn’t want us to.”

“Shh!” he whispered back. He started to say something else, but a large crash interrupted him.

“You will do nothing that she does not want you to,” a terrifyingly familiar voice ordered. The king’s gravelly drekkan spoke as soft as I’d ever heard him, but… drekkans were not designed for whispers.

I pressed my ear against the door. Koan sighed dramatically. “Of course we won’t. But she doesn’t know that. She’ll let us in.” Then, as if he hadn’t just been growled at by a giant flying lizard king, he called out cheerily, “Half a minute!”

A small chuckle rose up my throat. For the first time in a week, I nearly laughed. I thought the king usually left the castle when he was in his drekkan form, but apparently he was in his room today, keeping an eye—or ear—on Koan and Jolter.

I swung the door wide open. I wouldn’t keep them in the hall if the king was staring at them.

Koan slipped around me, closed the door, and then turned to face me with Jolter at his side. “Here’s the thing,” Koan started. “Karkins are scary. Someone should have warned you before you went out there. But you can’t hide from everything in the elven world because of that. There are a lot of really great things too.”

So he didn’t know about Motab.

And I wasn’t ready to tell him yet. Maybe she had died thirteen years ago but—to me—it felt like it happened a week ago, the moment I’d found out. It felt abrupt and harsh to say, “I just learned my mother died,” when he was trying to be sympathetic about monsters.

Koan kept talking. “So there’s a concert tonight, and the king said we could have his box if you came with us.”

I folded my arms. “I am not going to sit with the king at a concert.”

Koan linked arms with his brother. “Nah, you’d be sitting with us. I don’t think the king will even go. He’s been hiding in his room as long as you have.”

Jolter elbowed Koan’s gut, and he let his deliberately careless grin fall. “You two really need to figure something out. It’s weird having him avoid you while going out of his way to make sure other people keep you safe and happy.”

He was avoiding me?

I clenched my jaw. As he should. I’d hide from him too if I’d killed his mother.

“Will you come with us?” Jolter asked.

Koan shot him a sideways eye-roll. “Or tell us what’s really going on?” His gaze traveled to the wall I shared with the king. “Has he done anything… untoward?”

I focused on the feel of my blanket. It was soft, but I didn’t really want to hide in it forever. Motab would not have wanted me to stop living just because she did. Maybe I could go enjoy this concert with my friends and not think about all of the horrible things that had happened during the last few weeks.

I fisted my hand in the blanket. “Nothing like that.” My eyes shifted from the king’s door to Koan. “I’ll come. When do I need to be ready?”

Koan nodded slowly. “We’ll come get you an hour after sunset. I can send your dinner up earlier than normal. And I’ll send a maid to help you get ready.”

I didn’t need a maid. I opened my mouth to protest, but Koan cut me off before I spoke.

“Callista, please, let me send someone. I’ll send her at sunset, and she’ll just help with your hair or any other last minute things. Jemina used to complain more about her hair than anything else.”

I raised a brow. “Jemina?”

Jolter grinned. “Our sister. Other girls would never complain to him—they just wanted to make friends with his money or position.”

We hadn’t talked much about their family. “Does she live very far?”

Jolter’s grin faded as he nodded. “Outside the curse boundary. We haven’t seen her for thirteen years.”

Koan patted my shoulder. “We’ll be back. Take your time.”

A new knock hit my door precisely as the sun disappeared below the mountainous horizon. I had managed to clean and dress myself with time to spare. I replaced the blanket with a shawl and opened the door.

A maid dropped into a curtsy as if I were some kind of royalty. I almost corrected her and told her I was a prisoner, but I decided to hold my tongue. If I said too many words, I might start crying again for no apparent reason.

“Master Koan said you might like a lady’s maid to help with your hair and accessories. I’m Malinda.”

I pushed a smile onto my face and nearly grimaced at the way my cheeks resisted the change in position. Had it really been that long since I smiled?

“Thank you, Malinda. I’m not really in a mood to talk much, but I do need help with my hair.”

Honestly, I had no idea what to do with it. Dresses were obvious enough, even though Mylo’s dress-maker had filled my wardrobe with more designs than I would need in a lifetime. Still, it didn’t take a princess to figure out how to put them on.

My hair, though… Once I really thought about how I was going to a royal event with nobles in an elven castle, my education—from a lifetime of living in a cabin on the edge of the woods—felt woefully insufficient to prepare for any event here.

Malinda hummed softly as she twisted and braided my hair into elegant loops. Once half of it was tied up, she twirled the lower tresses around her fingers. Heat emanated from her hands and, when she unwrapped my hair, it stayed curled.

She used magic heat to curl my hair. That reminded me of the king. “Can you make fire in your hands too?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Like the king?” I clarified.

She smiled. “Yes, though he is far more powerful than I am. I can heat hair and hold a fireball. He could cover the fortress in fire if he wanted.”

My brows shot up. Cover the fortress in fire?

She dropped another warm lock of hair on the back of my neck. “It’s a tricky kind of magic. Sometimes, when I get upset or angry, it rushes to my fingertips, and it takes all my self control to keep it inside. And yet, it’s such a small amount.”

She chuckled as she picked up another bit of hair. “When I was younger, and still learning to control it, I lost a few fireballs and put some holes in walls. I can’t even imagine the restraint the king has. I’ve never seen him lose control of anything more than a little smoke.”

I, too, had seen smoke rise off him when he was angry. But he hadn’t been in control of himself when he killed my mother.

Or had he? He didn’t say he consumed her with flames. He said he tricked her into holding a talisman that absorbed all her magic. He said he did not intend to hurt her.

I pushed the thoughts away. I did not want to give the king any space in my mind right now. I was going to go enjoy a concert with friends, dressed up like a princess.

“Done,” Malinda said, smiling into the mirror at me. “Fit for a princess, if I do say so myself.”

Yes, I looked more like a princess than any I’d seen in books or imagined in my head.

Right on cue, Koan knocked on the door. Malinda bobbed another curtsy and opened it for him.

He thanked her and turned to me. “Callista, I am honored to escort you this evening.” He bowed and offered me an elbow.

I took his arm, and my thoughts flashed to Alastor. Had he moved to the human town like I told him to? Was he making friends? I should find a way to tell him about Motab .

We stepped into the hallway, and Koan tipped his head conspiratorially at me. “I should warn you, every lady in the theater will be jealous of you tonight.”

That pulled me out of my thoughts. “Why?” I poked him. “Are you that popular?”

He winked. “Truthfully, my family is one of the oldest noble families in the kingdom. If the curse ever lifts, I will inherit a ridiculously sized fortune. I’ve had ladies throwing themselves at me for years.” He patted my hand. “Don’t worry, I know you don’t see me like that. But you have one other honor that nobody has ever had in our entire history that I’m aware of.”

“And what’s that?”

“We have a concert of some kind at the start of every month. The king has never—in all fourteen years since he took the throne—invited anyone to sit with him, let alone to take the best seat in the theater.”

That was curious. “So why did he give it to you?”

Koan laughed. “You’re missing the point. He didn’t give it to me. He gave it to you .”

My heart sped up. “Surely not.”

Koan sobered, but his smile didn’t leave his face. “I’m sure of it. He told Jolter and I that we could take it if we could convince you to join us. If you weren’t coming, we would be in the main seating with everyone else.”

“But why?” He hated fae, hated my family, hated me. Why offer such a singular honor? And why include Koan and Jolter, whom he clearly considered delinquent miscreants?

“I was hoping you could tell me. I haven’t been able to figure it out.” Koan slowed down just enough to look at me as he answered, but then carried on to the indoor courtyard where eight tunnels met. This time, we turned into the corridor with a lily carved into the stone above it.

I couldn’t think of an answer for Koan. His question would probably plague me for the rest of my life, but I decided to change the subject for tonight. “Where’s Jolter? I expected him to come with you.”

“Ah.” A twinkle lit Koan’s eye. “He’s escorting a date. Her name is Molanna—I think you’ll like her.”

I raised a brow, and he kept talking. “I was thorough in my interrogation—she thinks Jolter is sweet, even if the curse never falls and he remains a derelict vagabond for the next ten thousand years. Also, she thinks both humans and fae are as worthy of respect and kindness as elves, so I decided that letting her sit with us would be acceptable.”

I smiled. It was getting easier every time. Leaving my room was a good idea.

The theater probably held three hundred seats, but we didn’t walk into the main room. We entered through a small hallway that led to a balcony on the second floor with a walking path around the entire perimeter of the theater’s seating area. We followed the path to a bridge that crossed like a second floor above the main seating. In the middle of the bridge, with the most perfect view of the stage, was a box that held four chairs.

Jolter and—I assumed—Molanna stood up from chairs to welcome me. Jolter actually pulled me into a hug. “Callista, I’m so glad you came. After we saw you earlier, I was afraid you might change your mind.”

I hugged him back, but then pulled out of it and eyed his date. I didn’t want her to assume I was some kind of competition. “I’m glad I came too.”

She stepped closer and took my hand. “I’m Molanna, but you can call me Anna. I’ve been hoping to meet you for weeks.”

“Really?” I asked. “Because every other elf I’ve met seems to hate me.”

Koan popped his hands on his hips. “Hey, now.”

I rolled my eyes. “Especially these two. I think they hate me the most.”

Molanna laughed, but then she slid closer to me and lowered her voice. “That’s because you’ve been here in the fortress. Most of the elves here are rich, elitist nobles. They’ll hate humans, fae, and elves from other kingdoms with equal animosity. If you leave the fortress, though, even just to the villages that are still inside the curse’s boundary, you’ll find much friendlier elves.”

Jolter folded his arms. “Technically, my family’s lands are quite far from the fortress.”

Molanna raised a teasing smile at him. “And yet, where did you spend your free time?”

Koan elbowed his brother. “I’m starting to wonder if your date is more interested in my friend than you.”

Jolter elbowed him back. “She’s my friend, too.”

Molanna rolled her eyes at me. “Maybe we should sit between these two so they stay separated.” I snorted a very undignified, but soft, laugh as we shifted to the chairs.

About twenty minutes later, the event began with a double quartet performing an extravagant piece I’d never heard before. As their first notes blended, it reminded me of a waterfall, but as the pace sped up, it felt like the waterfall rose out of its normal course and started dancing. I leaned forward and tried to keep track of the notes, but they careened and flew so masterfully, that eventually I just leaned back and closed my eyes.

I didn’t even know all the instruments. The two lutes were familiar, but the others were as magical as a maid who curled my hair with heat that rose from her hands.

After a deafening applause at the end of the song, one of the lute players introduced a song he’d written for his wife. The stage darkened, except for a spotlight on him…

And my emotions fell apart. Memories of my father singing for my mother made me light-headed.

Tears blurred my vision. I needed to get out. Find a safe place to sniff and clear my eyes without drawing the attention of every person in this theater.

“I’ll be back,” I whispered. I slid past Koan, along the balcony path, and slipped into the hallway outside the theater.

I dragged a ragged, raspy breath past my silent sobs, knowing if I made too much noise, people in the theater could still hear. But the extra wall gave me a little more freedom from curious, hateful eyes.

“Callista?” a familiar voice whispered.

No. No, no, no. That voice was supposed to be in his room in a tower a long walk away.

“What are you doing here?” I asked the king in a shaky whisper.

He moved closer, until I easily saw his dark silhouette in the shadowy hall. “I… wanted to hear the concert.” Did his voice tremble too?

Exasperation and anger meshed together in an uncomfortable blend in my chest, drying my tears and pushing me to confrontation. “Then why did you give your spot away? ”

Silence.

Five seconds. Then ten. And then fifteen.

“Because,” he started, but then paused again. He made a dramatic, slow sigh, and then tipped his forehead against the wall in front of him. “Because I wanted to do something that might bring you some happiness, and this was the best I could think of. You deserve it more than I do.”

His sincere, forlorn tone deflated the fight that I had ready to throw at him.

After a few more seconds, he lifted his head away from the wall abruptly. “Why are you out here? Did Koan or Jolter—”

I shook my head. “They’ve both been wonderful.”

“Then—”

Now I sighed. I didn’t want to tell him the things that hurt so much I thought I’d never breathe again, but… he was the only person here—the only person in the entire world—who knew the real reason I’d stayed in my room for a week. Telling someone might feel good—even if I hated him.

I sank to the floor and leaned my back against the wall, pulling my knees up close to my chest. “The lute player reminded me of my father.”

The king came closer and sat on the ground in front of me. “What happened?”

I hugged my knees. “There was some kind of accident. He fell, and hit his head wrong, probably on a rock. Motab—my mother—was with me at home. She grabbed her chest and ran to him.”

I relaxed my arms enough that I could lean forward and rest my chin on my knees. “When she came home, she told me he had left this world. I asked if she would also, because their hearts were tied together with a fae marriage bond.”

I swallowed, grateful for the dark that enveloped us. I couldn’t stand to look into his bright green eyes right now, not when he would see all the pain that had come from losing someone who could never be replaced. “She said she would not die until Alastor and I both reached adulthood. She had channeled all her magic and wrapped it up in her heart in a way that sealed the hole left by Fotab—my father.”

I blew out a shaky breath and clutched my legs. “It wasn’t permanent. She started aging like a human, but she said it would work like a patch for another ten or fifteen years. I was nearly an adult and Alastor is only ten years younger than me. I worried a lot about it actually working, especially when her hair turned gray and she grew wrinkles so quickly, but she told us her heart would hold. And I could see her magic entirely focused around her heart, so I thought we would have those ten or fifteen years.”

I swallowed again. I didn’t have the strength to be angry right now, but the king knew the rest. “We had two years,” I added, “before she disappeared.”

The king didn’t move. “I was a fool,” he whispered. “And I wish, more than anything, that I could fix it.”

And for the first time in a week, I believed him.