Page 34 of The Arrow and the Alder

S eph returned to her room in a daze, her thoughts whirring. She couldn’t shake the strong and irrational desire to go back to Alder. It was like a physical pull that increased with every step she took away from him. He was dangerous. She should be walking away, but instead her mind kept replaying those quiet and final moments when he’d looked at her as no one had ever looked at her before.

She’d let Alder rest tonight—and saints knew she needed space to sort through her feelings—but tomorrow, she’d ask him for the whole truth.

No, she would demand it.

Seph opened her door, and she was just stepping inside when she felt the slightest press upon her chest, the brush of another eloit .

She wasn’t alone.

Lord Massie was sitting at her desk with his legs stretched before him, his face a contrast of shadow and sharp angles, while his lips twisted cruelly. “Well, hello, princess. I was wondering when you’d return.”

Hands grabbed her from behind.

Seph bucked on instinct, and her assailant gasped in pain. She whirled for the door only to find herself face-to-face with a bone-masked kith. He reached for her, but she wriggled out of his grasp, and she was just praising her fortune when a second bone-masked kith kicked out a leg.

She tripped and fell flat on her back, landing right before Massie’s black boots.

“Oh, no, no,” he said smoothly, gazing down at her. “I know better now.”

A cloth pressed over her nose, smelling of mint and something else she couldn’t name, and her world went dark.

Seph opened her eyes, feeling momentarily disoriented. Light gleamed faintly from somewhere ahead, though she couldn’t quite make it out, and her head pounded with every heartbeat.

And then it all came back: Massie.

Remnants of mint clung to her nose as she rubbed her temples, pushing herself to a seated position. Dirt and grit dug into her palms, and saints if it didn’t feel like her skull was being ripped in two. She’d been dumped into a prison of some sort—nothing more than a small cutout in the rock. The air was cold and stale, a single barred door marked her exit, and light burned from a torch affixed to the dark tunnel that stretched ahead of her.

She gritted her teeth and cursed. “Basrain, you bastard.”

I never trust a man who doesn’t take sides. It means he only takes his own .

Alder was right—again. Honestly, it was embarrassing how right he was all the time. She’d never tell him that, of course. He was conceited enough as it was, but at which point had Basrain sold himself to the kith high lord? Or had Basrain simply seen an opportunity the moment they’d arrived?

Seph crawled to the bars and wrapped her fingers around them, but the moment her skin brushed the surface, the moonstone ring glimmered and flared with heat, and Seph jerked her hands away. Her prison was fortified with enchantments, and Seph couldn’t help but laugh.

As if she knew anything of enchantments.

It did make Seph wonder what Massie thought she was capable of or what he intended to do with her, but right then, her largest concern was: where was everyone else? What had he done with Abecka?

With…Alder?

Was she still even in Callant?

Seph looked through the bars and listened, but all was quiet, save the soft hum of power radiating through her bars. She wished she knew how to weave—or in her case unweave —enchantments, but then she spotted a lock.

Seph stared at the little keyhole curiously, hardly believing her good fortune as she reached down her bodice…

The lock picks were still there, saints be praised!

Would the enchantments override the lock? There was only one way to find out.

Seph was pulling the picks free just as voices echoed down the hall. She shoved the tools back down and scurried into the shadowy recesses of her cell.

“—not yet,” she heard Basrain say, the traitor. “The annals say nothing.”

“But she can touch it?” Lord Massie asked.

“Yes,” Basrain answered.

Long shadows appeared at the end of the hall, and Basrain and Massie came into view a second later.

“You saw the Weald Prince’s hand,” Basrain continued.

Seph’s heart clenched at mention of Alder. The two figures eventually stopped before her cell, but only their silhouettes were visible.

“Ah, it seems our little light is awake,” Massie drawled. He reached into his pocket, withdrew a small stone—a kithlight, Seph suspected—and spoke a word. The little enchantments sparked to life, illuminating Massie’s face of harsh contrasts, and Basrain, who stood a little behind him like the coward he was.

“You snake,” Seph snarled.

The only indication Basrain gave that her words struck was a slight twitch of his nose. Massie, however, regarded her with a kind of detached interest. “How…enchanting you are.”

“ What have you done with them ?”

Massie tipped his head. His silver scar looked otherworldly in the kithlight’s pale glow. “Why such concern for those whose only intent is to use you?”

“They’re not the ones who locked me behind bars.”

“Just because they are invisible does not mean they are not there.”

She hated that his words gave her pause.

Massie took a small step closer, wrapping his long pale fingers around her bars. Tiny symbols glimmered along the metal, as if coming to life at his touch. “That was a marvelous little stunt you pulled, handing me a fake. You had me fooled, and not many can make such a claim. But then I wondered…how could you have known I would come?” He cocked his head to the side, those frosty eyes unblinking. He was like a cat, watching his trapped mouse squirm. “It was Raquel, wasn’t it? Do you know…once I realized what you’d done, I recalled the rumors of Jakobián’s mortal bride. That she was…what do you mortals call it? Saints-touched ? It was then I realized Raquel must have Seen me come to Harran, and Jakobián was always so meddlesome?—”

“What do you want?” Seph cut him off.

Massie’s lips twisted into a perversion of a smile. “I came to offer you a bargain, princess.”

“I’ve no interest in your bargains.”

“Oh, I think you’ll be interested in this one, because it’s the only way that your friends leave this place alive.” Massie pressed his face to the bars. “I will release the queen of Light and everyone in your party—including Prince Alder. I will let them return—unharmed—to whatever hovel they’ve been hiding in, and in exchange, you will help me unlock the power within the coat. You will give its power to me freely, as a gift.” His gaze slid over her body slowly before settling back upon her face. “And I would share this power with you. My…wife.”

Seph flinched away from him in horror and revulsion.

Massie noticed, but he looked more determined than ever. “This should not surprise you, daughter of Light. I do not ask for your affection. Only your respect. I’ll even allow you to keep lovers, though we would need an heir. It could not be a better arrangement, and together, with our kingdoms thus united, we would be unstoppable. Light and Weald. No one could defy us, Josephine Alistair. Think of what it could afford you. Of what it could afford your family .”

Seph’s hands clenched into fists. “You think I am persuaded by power ?”

“We are all persuaded by power. A desire to preserve self. It is what drives each and every one of us, and those who deny that are only lying to themselves. It is rule or be ruled, and I am giving you the opportunity to rule all.”

Seph took a furious step closer to him. “Lord Massie. If I ever marry, it will be for love, and love alone. And there is nothing in this world that could propel me to bind myself to the monster who would have strangled my sister to death for a coat.”

Massie’s pale eyes gleamed. “I understand you have a penchant for monsters.”

Seph’s blood ran cold. He knows! Somehow, he’d learned Alder’s secret, but Seph didn’t think Basrain knew, because he looked quizzically at Massie.

“That’s the bargain I offer you, princess,” Massie said. “And it is far more generous than you deserve. Do you accept my terms?”

Seph stared at him, unable to find her words. Mostly because she still couldn’t believe his proposal!

“I might remind you that you will help me retrieve the coat’s power regardless,” Massie continued lowly. “ How that happens is entirely up to you.”

Which was when Seph found her words. “I would rather die than suffer as your wife, you despicable creature.”

Massie regarded her, and his silvery scar twitched. “Perhaps I have not made myself clear. You will watch me tear Prince Alder apart, limb by limb, or you accept my terms and he goes free.”

Seph’s heart pounded, and her body trembled with fury. “You can go to hell, you sick and deluded bastard.”

Massie’s eyes were like two shards of ice. “I see you need some time to reconsider.” He looked at Basrain. “See that she’s brought nothing, and no one speaks to her.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” murmured the pandering sycophant.

Massie cast Seph one last glance, a snide twist to his lips as he said, “I’ll return in two days, Your Highness, and I look forward to your answer.”