Page 19

A dissonant twang filled my room as I tried strumming a new chord on the lute Koan had brought me weeks ago. Or had it been months now? I’d been practicing every day, but even the most basic chords still sounded awful. I set the instrument on my bed when an unfamiliar knock hit my door.

I opened it but didn’t recognize the elf who filled the doorframe. He had a tall, powerful build, but the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth only came from years of smiling; and since he was an elf, it must have been a lot of years.

He dipped his head in a polite greeting. “Good morning. My name is Fagan. I was hoping you might be willing to accompany me on a walk through the gardens.”

I slid to the side enough to look over his shoulder and meet Jolter’s eyes. “I’m pleased to meet you, Fagan, but I’ll only go for a walk with you if Jolter thinks it’s wise.”

Fagan’s eyes nearly sparkled with mirth as he turned his body to let Jolter into the conversation. “By all means. I’m happy to defer to your guard.”

Jolter straightened and nodded a few times, as if weighing dozens of arguments. “I think it’s a great idea if Fagan promises to keep you safe. Otherwise, I’ll have to come along.”

Fagan sobered and bowed at Jolter. “I’ll absolutely protect her and bring her back safely within an hour.”

Jolter puffed out his chest and looked so proud that I would not have been surprised if his buttons popped off his shirt. “Good.” He winked at me. “I think it’s about time you went outside.”

Fagan glanced at my bell sleeves and exposed forearms. “The sun is out today, but I’d still suggest a cloak.”

Mylo’s dressmaker had left me with both a cloak and a jacket with long tails that flared like a dress. The jacket was thicker, so I put it on. Fagan waited in the hall and, when I returned, he offered me an elbow. “May I?”

I slipped my hand on his arm, and he reached over and patted it carefully, just like my father used to do when he took me for walks. The memory was more poignant than normal, but I pushed it away and focused on my new escort.

“Master Fagan,” I started, but then realized my potential mistake. “I’m afraid you might be one of the higher ranking elves to visit me. Do you have a title you’d like me to use?”

He chuckled, exercising those faint wrinkles. “No, no, my dear. Fagan is fine. You needn’t bother with Master . I’m far too old for that nonsense.”

I tipped my head, curious. “How old are you?”

He laughed again. “Nobody told me you were impertinent.”

I felt a flush run up my neck. “I didn’t mean to be impertinent. Technically, you brought up your age first. ”

“Indeed.” He didn’t sound offended. “I’m not bothered by it, even if other elves might be. I am just over 4,000.”

My eyes widened. “Really? You look amazing!”

His laughter spurred another embarrassed flush. I really needed to speak slower. And think first. The king might not be bothered by my uncensored thoughts, but this elf commanded authority too. I didn’t want to insult the first noble I met who acted like a noble.

“Your compliments, Callista, are rather unpredictable.”

I could not think of anything else to say as he led me through the tulip tunnel, out the grand main entrance, and down a path that led to large, sprawling patches of snow with vines, barren trees, and several fountains. The largest fountain had a spout of water that cascaded down three levels of small pools before disappearing underground. Sunlight sparkled off the water and the patches of snow.

Fagan gestured at a bench in front of the water, and we sat. “The fountains are enchanted to flow all winter, regardless of how cold it gets.”

I smiled. “They are beautiful.” But what was this elf’s purpose? Was it some kind of trick? A trap? Was he delaying now, waiting for someone to join us? “I’m sorry for the blunt question, Fagan, but why did you want me to come out here with you?”

His lips shifted naturally into a sad smile. “Am I so transparent?”

“No,” I said. “I have no idea what you want, and the suspense is going to make me crazy.”

A great shadow passed over our heads, and I looked up to see the king’s black drekkan form flying low over us. Relief swept over me. Fagan would not have brought me here to kill me with the king watching. And if he had meant to, or if someone else meant to have him trap me for them, the king would not allow it.

Was I so sure of the honorable beast ? He had flown out of sight, but he let out a mighty roar.

Yes. Yes, I was.

Next to me, Fagan sighed. “I’m sorry, my dear. I am here because I told Acantha I would visit you and determine how dangerous I thought you might be. I thought this would be a comfortable place for a conversation.”

A bright red bird flew into a small bush that still had deep green leaves. A scarlet tanager. The same kind of bird I’d first seen on the day I came here. I’d found it in my father’s book. It flitted around the bush, pecking at bugs while I spoke. “It is a nice spot. Why don’t you ask me everything you’ve wondered, and I’ll just tell you. It would be easier than both of us trying to guess at each other’s thoughts. Then you can hear all my answers and judge them for yourself.”

Amusement filled his voice. “What if you enchant your answers so I’m persuaded to look past the most superficial information?”

I shrugged. “I can’t actually do that. But if you can’t believe anything I say because you think that I can, I don’t know how a conversation will help you.”

He followed my gaze to the bird. “I believe the tanagers are one of the species that cross the borders between our lands and the humans. Chipper little things, aren’t they?”

“Are you a fan of birds, Fagan?”

“I’ve been around long enough to be a fan of many things.” He brought his gaze back to me. “I’m not actually an interrogator, Callista. I’m an observer. I came into Hemlit many decades ago as a spy for Floren, but I grew tired of the pettiness of the work. I told King Fintan—Aedan’s father—my assignment, and we made a new arrangement.”

“You told the king you were spying on him?”

“It sounds absurd when you say it like that, but yes.” The older elf smiled. “I wanted to go home to my family.”

“Did he let you?”

“He did. I stayed for some time to gather the information I’d been assigned, but eventually I went home. When Aedan’s parents died, I came back to see if I could be of assistance to the new king. I knew him well and… I was concerned he would not have the support he needed.”

I studied him. “What do you mean?”

He met my eyes. “Fintan was a fair king, but he emphasized the importance of a king’s duties to his son. He assumed Aedan would naturally tend to be benevolent because of his sweet mother, so he drilled him in duty and justice. They died far too soon, long before Aedan had time to realize that Fintan made exceptions for every rule.”

So Aedan’s honorable monster had been drilled into him by his father? I wished the man were still alive so I could shake him. Thoughts of my own father filled my head—singing to me, laughing with me, walking with me, holding me. “Did his father love him?” I asked.

“He did.” Fagan tapped a finger on his knee a few times. “But he did not show it in a way that would encourage Aedan to be… soft.” A drekkan cry arched across the sky. We both glanced toward it. “Aedan shows he cares about people by protecting them.”

I turned my eyes back to Fagan. “Why would you tell me this? ”

He met my eyes. “Because Aedan cares about you.”

A warm, melty feeling filled my stomach and fluttered up into my chest. Aedan’s words from last night replayed in my mind. I will not let anybody hurt you. Was it possible? Could the terrifying and powerful elf king have something as human as feelings for me?

And if so, why would Fagan care? “I still don’t see how that brings us here,” I said.

Fagan’s sweet, gentle smile tipped his eyes up. “It brings us here because Acantha saw it and worried. I saw it, and it gave me hope.”

My eyebrows shifted together. “Hope for what?”

“Hope that you can help him heal. He has not been the same since his parents died.”

I wanted to be more sympathetic, but his words only reminded me of my own loss. “Neither have I.”

His head turned, curious. “When did your parents die?”

“Thirteen years ago.”

“ Thirteen years ago?”

Clearly he recognized the date. “Yes, thirteen years ago. And since Aedan has clearly not told you yet, it was my mother that cursed him.”

His jaw dropped. “Did you know?”

“No.” The air suddenly felt more chilled, so I drew the jacket tighter around me and turned away. “He only told me a little more than a week ago.” I broke the growing silence with a clarification. “And technically, my father died two years before that.”

He didn’t respond for at least a minute, so I turned back to face him. “I’m sorry, Callista,” he said softly. “That must have been a horrible thing to learn after you volunteered to come here.”

I nodded. Yes, it was. It still made me fight back tears when I thought about it.

Fagan stood up abruptly and offered me his arm again. “Walk with me?”

We left the fountain, passed the bushes where several tanagers now skimmed for food, walked past snow-covered gardens and through a few rows of barren trees. On the other side of the trees, the stone pillar the fortress sat on disappeared. It gave way to sheer cliffs that dropped for hundreds of feet into the lake with giant crabs.

I shivered at the memory and took a step away from the edge. Fagan stepped back with me, but patted my hand. Did he hate me now that he knew my mother’s curse had trapped him here? Did he blame me for getting him stuck in Hemlit, away from his family? Did he intend to push me over the edge?

The distance to the lake suddenly took a dizzying tilt, and I tightened my hold on Fagan’s arm. I hoped that did not doom me to an early death, but I didn’t have anything else to hold. A wave of nausea nearly took me down, but Fagan kept me on my feet.

And then the drekkan’s shadow landed on us again. He flew slowly overhead, and I focused on him. He’d felt my worry again… and I was not even mad about it.

“Here, step back,” Fagan said. “I thought you would enjoy the view, but I’m afraid you nearly passed out.” I risked a glance at his face as he pulled me away from the edge. “We’ll just put stunning vistas on a list of things that do not help you relax.”

“I’m sorry,” I panted. “I seem to have developed a selective fear of heights.” It was a horrible thing. One painful example of how disasters followed me everywhere.

He huffed. “A troublesome condition when you live on top of a stone pillar.”

I shivered. “You have no idea.”

“Let’s get you back inside before Jolter starts to worry.”

I snorted, but said the first thing I would have told Alastor if he’d been in this position. “You’re just worried I’ll pass out and you’ll have to carry me back up.”

I clapped a hand over my mouth as soon as I’d said the words. It was far too irreverent a tone for such a high noble.

He laughed out loud. “You must think I’m quite pathetic.”

“No…” My mind raced for something to say that would make up for teasing someone who outranked me by about ten thousand steps.

“Well, let me assure you,” he said, “I would have no trouble carrying you. I am much more concerned about my suspicion that if you panicked about the edge of the pillar, the king would be aware of that stress and decide that you need protecting from me. And I’d prefer not to be the target of his protective nature, especially when he is in his drekkan form.”

We’d reached the great stone staircase that led into the castle. “So you’re taking me back to my room?”

“Yes. Will that help you relax?”

I chuckled now, and glanced at him. “You were right. You are a terrible interrogator.”

A soft round laugh drifted down from him. “But I am an excellent observer. And I’ve decided you do not pose a danger to Aedan.”