Page 7

I strummed the lute Koan and Jolter had brought me a few days ago. The tips of my fingers were too sore to attempt any more chords, but I didn’t have anything else to do. The brothers had promised they’d bring me more things tomorrow. I’d spent some time looking out the window—my room was in one of the towers—but once the sun set, the air was far too cold to keep the shutters open, even with a blanket wrapped around myself.

That left me with my little bird book and the lute.

A scream tore through the hall outside my door. I ran to the door, lute still in hand, and almost tripped over my own feet trying to move so quickly. I flung the door open and took in a scene of chaos.

Koan held a very young elf, a small child, who screamed like he was missing an arm. He was loud enough that none of them could have heard me open my door. The boy twisted and writhed and threw his weight so that he could grab Koan’s hand… and then the child bit Koan.

Koan flung the toddler off himself and yelled something unintelligible. The child would have hit the ground head-first, but Jolter leaped closer and caught him just in time. The boy started shrieking again, and Jolter set him down and darted back. The boy turned and ran down the hall, away from my room, in a direction I’d never been.

“Stop!” “No!” Koan and Jolter both yelled at the child and jumped in front of him, cutting off his access to the hall.

Koan reached for the boy but then withdrew his hand, muttering something about half-sized villains. The boy started screaming something I couldn’t make out while trying to worm his way past Koan and Jolter, who darted in front of him every time he tried to run down the hall.

I didn’t know why they were trying to block him, but they were doing it all wrong. A small child needed someone to distract him, not fight him. I glanced at the lute in my hand. Maybe that would work.

I pinched my thumb and forefinger together and strummed back and forth across the strings hard and fast with my nails. I didn’t know how to play a lute, but the sound echoed against the stone walls and caught the attention of all three elves.

I repeated the strumming and locked eyes with the boy. I changed the rhythm of my strumming, then plucked the chanterelle string a few times, and then strummed twice more. The boy turned and faced me.

Koan and Jolter looked at each other and froze, probably guessing at what I was trying.

I raised a brow while I held the boy’s lively brown eyes with mine and strummed a few more times. I was no musician, but the sounds seemed to be working. “Have you ever played a lute?” I asked.

He didn’t answer, but he did start walking closer to me.

I sat down just inside my room and plucked a few more strings while he worked his way closer to me. Koan and Jolter moved like a hesitant wall a few feet behind him, clearly hoping to catch him if he bolted again.

But he waddled right up to me and stretched an arm out. I strummed across the strings with my thumb and then offered the boy my hand. He placed his hand in mine, and I guided his fingertips across all the strings. He grinned, pulled his hand out of mine, and clumsily strummed on his own.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Jor Jor,” he answered as his fingers grew more confident and wrapped around the strings.

I carefully unwrapped his fingers and used both my hands to splay his fingers and strum more gently. “Jor Jor, we want to be careful when we play the lute. Like this.”

“Jorlan,” Koan said softly. The boy didn’t even glance at him. “His name is Jorlan. He doesn’t really talk, and I don’t know how much he understands. But sometimes he runs off. His parents are probably frantic about him missing right now.”

I helped Jorlan isolate one finger to pluck with while turning a wry smile up at Koan. “I don’t think you’ll survive taking him anywhere.”

He huffed. “No, I wouldn’t dare try that again. He likes you well enough though.”

I shook my head. “I’m not leaving this room without permission. Maybe you could bring his parents up here?” I tipped my head toward the center of my room. “I bet he’d follow me in and then we could close the door so he doesn’t run off.”

“No.” Koan still spoke softer than normal, as if he was afraid of spooking Jorlan. “His parents would kill you if they thought you’d trapped him in there with you.”

I rolled my eyes. “I keep forgetting that I’m an evil fae.”

“You shouldn’t joke about things like that,” Jolter whispered. “Someone might overhear and assume the wrong thing.”

I sighed. “So what’s your plan?”

The two brothers looked at each other. “We don’t have one,” Jolter admitted. “Maybe I’ll go look for his mother and Koan can stay here with you.”

“The little stinker hates me,” Koan grumbled.

I glared at him.

“What?” he hissed.

“You know what,” I answered. “If he doesn’t like you, it’s because you say things like that.” I wrapped an arm around the boy who was now tapping the body of the lute like a drum. “Jorlan is a wonderful boy, and I’m glad he came to meet me.”

Koan rolled his eyes and plopped himself down in the middle of the hallway, a solid ten feet away from us.

Jorlan found the lute so fascinating that we sat and played with it for almost half an hour. Every few minutes I shifted the instrument so he could explore another sound or shape on it. He tried plucking one string at a time, then each string, then different combinations of them. He drummed on every surface of the body.

I did have to stop him from adjusting the tuning pegs, but once he realized they were off limits, he explored the rest of it with more focus than I would have guessed a child his size was capable of.

Koan sat in the hall like a bored guard, but he couldn’t trick me anymore. I saw the sobriety behind his levity. Jorlan might annoy him, but he wouldn’t risk letting the boy get hurt.

Eventually, a dull thunder rolled down the corridor. I stayed behind my door frame, but my stomach started to tighten when the noises approaching us sounded like dozens of angry conversations.

Finally, a woman—elf—strode into my view. “Jorlan!” she cried.

The boy looked up, dropped the lute on the ground next to me, and ran to her arms. “Mar Mar!” he sang as she picked him up. She dropped a quick kiss on his head and then passed him into the crowd of elves behind her.

She turned and faced me, spreading her arms and gathering an eerie green magic fluid into her hands. It looked like a cross between a poison and liquid fire, but it coalesced out of nothing. Venom dripped from her voice as she hissed at me. “You!”

I stood and clutched the lute to my chest. It made a pitiful shield.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Koan’s light-hearted, nearly laughing voice intercepted her as he spread his arms and stood directly in front of her. “Lady Carmine, let’s calm down before anyone does something we’ll regret. You heard the king’s announcement about her, right?”

Jorlan’s mother practically yelled. “It won’t matter. When the king finds out what she’s done, he’ll be glad that I disposed of her.”

Koan’s humor disappeared. “She did nothing wrong. ”

“She certainly won’t do anything more when I’m done with her.”

“Lady Carmine!” Koan sounded more anxious now.

She lowered her voice, but her menace doubled. “Step aside, Koan, and I’ll ignore the fact that you allowed her to capture my son—”

A flaming streak of lightning rushed along the ceiling, starting from the end of the corridor where the crowd had come from and sparking all the way to the other end of my vision. Lady Carmine’s burning magic shrank into small handfuls of green terror while the crowd’s murmurs disappeared.

The air shifted as people made way for a new elf. The raw power that he dropped as he walked down the hallway identified him long before I saw him—even the shadows fled from his approach.

Aedan, the High King of Hemlit, strode down the hall with all the terrifying majesty I would have expected from someone who owned that title. He finally stopped next to Koan, who dropped into an elegant bow at the waist.

The king nodded to Koan and turned toward Lady Carmine, leaving his back inches from my face. Lady Carmine’s magic blinked out as she clenched her fists and curtsied.

“The public is not welcome in this tower,” the king said. His voice carried on magic like a low growl to everyone in the hall.

“Your Majesty,” Lady Carmine started. She stopped when he tipped his head toward her. I imagined him turning the same steely gaze I’d seen him focus on Koan and Jolter to this woman, and I almost felt sorry for her.

She dipped her head. “Your Majesty, may I explain what happened? ”

“Is it necessary to waste my very limited evening time with an explanation of an invasion of my privacy?”

She lifted her gaze. “I believe it is, Your Majesty.”

He lowered his tone even more, though he still projected it with magic through the entire hall. “Then make it brief.”

She curtsied quickly and launched into an explanation. “The fae creature behind you lured my son into her room. We only found him because Jolter brought us news of her crimes. If we hadn’t arrived when we did… I can’t imagine what cruelty she had planned for him.”

A few feet behind her, at the front of the crowd, Jolter raised his eyes to the king and shook his head. Any sympathy I’d had for Lady Carmine evaporated when she added, “I’d like to destroy the fae before she has time to hurt or endanger any of the other children in Sirun.”

“Before anyone gets destroyed ,” the king said dryly, “I’d like Koan to tell us what he knows about the events you described.”

Koan dipped his head again and, with an unusual degree of solemnity, said, “My brother and I were guarding the hall when Jorlan came running through it. We suspected he’d run up here without anyone knowing, and we didn’t want him to get out the door at the top of the tower. But when we tried to pick him up or block him, he screamed and attacked us. We were having a hard time stopping him.”

He dipped his head toward the king. “The fae behind you heard the noise and opened her door. She never set a foot outside the door frame, but she showed Jorlan the lute she’s holding. He sat and played with her and the lute, in the entrance where she’s standing , while Jolter found Lady Carmine. When she arrived, her son dropped the lute and ran to her.”

Koan glanced at the crowd, and then focused on the king again. “I was here the whole time. She was more kind and patient with the boy than I would have been.” Koan felt more like Alastor every moment I knew him, but with a deeper knowledge of Sirun. He’d predicted Jorlan’s mother’s response perfectly.

The king nodded at Koan and stepped to the side, exposing me to Lady Carmine again. Her eyes flitted between me and the king, as if wondering exactly what she was allowed to do to me.

But instead of addressing her, the king raised a hand toward me, inviting me out of my room. He kept his hand raised until I stood next to him. He almost rested his hand on my shoulder, but instead dropped it to his side.

Then he turned to the angry elf in front of me. “Lady Carmine, do you have any evidence that she lured your son here with the intent to harm him?”

Lady Carmine lifted her chin at me. “Your Majesty, Jorlan was sitting next to her when we arrived. That’s all the evidence we need—”

Koan cut her off and pointed at me. “She might have saved your son’s life! Have you seen the other side of the door at the end of this corridor?!”

“Koan.” The king’s warning silenced Koan. “Lady Carmine. I will ask you again. Do you have any evidence of your accusations?”

Her eyes tightened. “No more than those I’ve shared already.”

The king’s voice hardened. “Then you owe the fae an apology. You may call her Lady Callista.” I had to hold my jaw closed. He remembered my name? And he just assigned me a noble status? He was impossible to understand. Impossible to predict. Impossible to even read. What was he thinking ?

Lady Carmine fisted her dress and clenched her jaw.

“You may apologize publicly,” the king growled, “or you may report to the dungeon for a more appropriate consequence for your disobedience.”

She paled, dropped into a curtsy, and bowed her head. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I let my emotions affect my actions. It won’t happen again.”

When she stood back up, she faced me. She was not pleased, but it appeared she would take a little humiliation over a beating. “Lady Callista, I apologize for assigning you motives that I do not have proof of.” Her words might have sounded like an apology, but her eyes told a different story. They shot invisible arrows at me that threatened very real ones if I came near her son again.

Regardless of her silent threat, I needed to respond to her spoken apology. “Thank you,” I squeaked out in a much smaller voice than I’d hoped. I swallowed and tried for a little more dignity. “I appreciate that.”

King Aedan’s low, drekkan-like voice filled the hall again. “As a reminder, Callista is under my protection. If you are upset with her behavior, come see me. Anyone who harms her can expect a much more violent justice.” He waited a few seconds while that permeated everyone’s thoughts, and then he added, “Now get out of my tower.”

Lady Carmine shot one more glare at me, and then scurried after the rest of the crowd. In seconds, only Koan and Jolter remained with the king and I.

The king tipped his head toward Koan and Jolter. “You two should go get her dinner.” As the brothers ran off, he turned to face me entirely.

I hugged the lute against my chest. What was I supposed to say to this king who marched in on chaos and used his powerful magic to scare away the elves who threatened me? Why had he done it? And why had he believed Koan over the lady?

“Why did you help the child?”

I tipped my head. Apparently he had questions too. Perhaps that was the best place to start. “Honestly, I was trying to help Koan and Jolter first. I didn’t know why they were trying to stop the boy, but they were having a hard time. And I had the lute in my hands.” I shrugged. “And then he was a sweet boy. I didn’t mind playing with him.”

The king’s bright green eyes bored into my face. “Tell me a lie.”

“What?” This elf made no sense.

His voice lowered and his gaze remained fixed on mine. “Tell me a lie.”

Why would he ask that? And could it hurt anything to indulge? “I hate lemons.” Like usual, my mouth answered before my head finished analyzing the situation.

His eyebrows wrinkled. “You hate lemons?”

“No.” I rolled my gaze to the ceiling, but that felt childish, so I met his again. “You said to tell a lie. So that was the lie.”

“So you like lemons.”

“I love lemons,” I corrected. Just thinking about them made me smile. Growing lemons might have been the only thing I was truly good at, the only thing I could confidently do without inviting chaos and disaster.

He nodded slowly.

“What’s behind the door?” I asked.

His brows raised .

“The door that Koan told Lady Carmine about. When he said I might have saved Jorlan?”

His face settled back into an impassive, unreadable expression, and then he changed the subject. “Would you have hurt the boy if you’d had the chance?”

“No! What kind of question is that?”

He didn’t answer but asked me another one. “Would you like to hurt his mother?”

“No! Why do you think I want to hurt everyone?”

“She would have hurt you.”

I tightened my hold on the lute. “She was worried. People do things…” I drifted off. I didn’t know if I had a good excuse for her or not, but I did know that hurting her back wouldn’t make me feel better.

He watched me closely. His gaze was too much—too intense, too focused, too powerful. And it mixed with a heady combination of cedar and leather. When I glanced away, he cleared his throat, and I… I brought my attention back to his green eyes.

He extended an elbow. “Will you come with me?”

He asked me to come. A light-hearted glee exploded in my chest. After all the times he had assumed I would just follow him, this invitation carried more meaning than it might have if he’d asked any other time. It implied a degree of acceptance and respect that I had craved since we met but had almost given up on receiving.

And now, with no clear reason, he offered it freely. I’d try to figure out why later when I was alone in my room. I shifted the lute into my right arm and slipped my left into his elbow. Like always, he radiated a heat that was comfortable and relaxing. Perhaps this life would not be so awful. I had friends in Koan and Jolter. And now the terrifying, drekkan-shifting, iron-fisted king even exhibited a degree of civility.

We walked past doors that—if Koan was to be believed—opened to the king’s quarters, and then we continued to the end of the corridor and up another small set of spiral stairs.

He gestured at the door in front of us. “The door that Koan spoke of. Would you like to see the source of his concern?”

I nodded. Of course I wanted to see what he’d been talking about.

The king opened the door to a small platform, like a balcony, that barely had room for the two of us. I followed him onto it and clutched his arm tighter as a cold breeze called my attention to our precarious position. We were perched like little birds on a miniscule branch hundreds of feet above the ground. Frosty ice, a starry sky, and snowy mountains made a beautiful landscape, but all I could see was the several-hundred-foot drop that would be my death if I slipped. Or tripped. Or fell. Or…

“Are you afraid of heights?” the king asked.

The normal upright world started to tilt, as if someone thought it would be funny to turn the mountains at an angle so I wouldn’t realize how far away the ground was. I closed my eyes and gripped his arm with an entirely un-ladylike hold, desperate to force my mind to make sense of the tipping landscape.

“I think I’ve just developed the fear.” I hated how breathy my voice sounded, but I couldn’t focus on it when my mind was growing dizzier by the moment. And then a horrifying thought struck me. “Please don’t push me over the edge.”

Before I even finished saying the words, a warmth settled on the arm I had wrapped around the lute, the scent of cedar and leather increased, and a gentle pressure nudged me backward. “Step slowly,” he said, guiding me away from a beckoning icy death.

When the cold wind disappeared from my face, I opened my eyes. The elf king filled my vision, a striking and impossible combination of power emanating from his body while compassion and concern filled his eyes. Behind him, moonlight from the open door lit his silhouette like a glowing halo.

“Are you hurt?” His voice was more gentle than I’d ever heard it.

I blinked. Twice. And swallowed. The king I’d known until this moment had been a monster who overreacted to everything that he didn’t like. Once as a drekkan. More than once as cold and unfeeling. Now—

I didn’t know what to think. This was not monstrous behavior.

“Are you hurt?” he asked again.

“No, I—” I didn’t know what to say. I was not hurt, though. “Thank you.”

“How is it that flying did not frighten you, but this did?”

I huffed and shook my head. “I don’t know. Maybe because we were moving? That was definitely the highest I’ve ever been on a platform.” A shaky breath interrupted me. “And it was a small platform.”

He tipped his head. “I did not intend to scare you. I thought you asked to see it.”

I nodded, quickly. “I did. And I’m glad you showed me. I just…” Another uneven breath. “I understand Koan’s motivation much better now. And I… I appreciate you brin ging me back inside too.”

Concern filled his eyes. “I told you that you would be safe. I would never have pushed you.”

So much sincerity. This seemed like an entirely different elf than the one I’d known so far. “I believe you.”

The concern vanished and he reverted back to the cold king I first saw in the dungeon. “Good. Let’s get you back to your room.”

He extended his polite elbow again, but instead of threading my arm through it I grabbed his wrist. “Wait!” His eyes flashed like fires, and I let go quickly. Too much. Too impulsive. We weren’t friends. I was a prisoner he’d taken pity on. I could not just grab him. I had to start thinking before I acted.

His eyes tracked my offending hand as I moved it to grip the lute. When my hands stilled, he brought his gaze to my eyes. “What are we waiting for?”

“I just…” Did I dare say what I’d thought of a moment ago? It had been spontaneous like everything else I did, but what if he found it offensive? After he’d just shown me a degree of kindness I didn’t think he possessed? I’d rather end on that note, even if it meant…

My mouth mutinied. “I just wanted you to know that I don’t intend to hurt anyone here either. I don’t have any grand plans to destroy anything, and if I could keep all your people perfectly safe, I’d do it happily. I only came into Hemlit to find my brother. And I wish you could believe that about me as well.”

And since I’d said all that, I added my last thought. “It’s not easy to be in a place where everyone thinks you hate them when you don’t.”