Page 17

Chapter

Seventeen

When I wake, I’m no more rested than before I went to sleep. The new magic inside me has been moving around all night like it’s wrestling my own powers. I tossed and turned so much that Harek sat next to me and rubbed my back at one point. It didn’t stop the roiling inside me, but it did actually help me fall asleep.

I roll over away from the wall, expecting to see Harek reading the book I’d left out.

The cabin is empty.

Did something happen overnight? I slept so fitfully, I don’t know how I would’ve missed a scuffle. It doesn’t seem possible.

My palm is warm. It’s glowing orange. The new magic didn’t kill my powers. Relief floods me, though only for a moment. The glow means a dangerous fae must be nearby. It never lights up around Harek, who is safe.

He also isn’t in here.

I scramble out of bed, slide on my shoes, then fling open the door.

Conversation sounds. I recognize Harek’s voice but not the other person’s.

My palm brightens, and a light mist forms. Thankfully, it’s still orange. My magic isn’t changed, even with the mess I inhaled.

I tiptoe toward the voices, pausing at the corner of the building.

Harek and someone who looks like a normal human are exchanging words, and neither appears happy. That fits with my increasingly warm palm.

As I near, Harek glances my way. He gives me a subtle look which sends a clear message—don’t come any closer.

Seriously? I can kill the other guy if need be. But the question is, do I want to? If his magic enters me like with the other two, it could really throw me off. If the stuff inside me doesn’t settle down soon, I’m never going to get a decent night’s sleep.

My palm is as warm as it was when those other two fae showed up, right before I killed them. I hold my palm up, watching the mist ball grow in both size and intensity of color.

The fae stops talking mid-sentence and stares at me, his eyes widening. “You’re…”

“What?” I yell. “What am I?”

If this guy tells me what kind of fae I am, I might just let him live. It’s about time someone gives me my answer.

He runs in the opposite direction.

My heart sinks. Of course it couldn’t be that easy.

Harek yells after him.

I run over. “Want me to kill him?”

He gives me a double-take. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that.”

“I killed two fae yesterday.”

“Let him go. He isn’t worth it.”

The ball of mist starts to fade.

“It’s just as well. The magic from the others is still messing with me.”

“Just as bad as before?”

“A little better.”

Harek glances in the direction the fae ran off. “Are you up for food? We should head out soon. I was going to wake you a little earlier, but I thought you could use the rest.”

My palm is now back to normal, and I press it against my abdomen. The weird magic is sloshing around in there, but it doesn’t affect my appetite. “Yes, let’s eat.”

We return to the cabin and have more dried meat before setting out. Some of my nausea is back, but I don’t think it’s bad enough to make me vomit again. Walking seems to help, so it’s a good thing we have a long journey ahead of us.

“How far is the city?” I ask.

“I’m not entirely sure.”

“You’ve never been there?”

He meets my gaze. “There’s a reason my family chose to live among humans—fae don’t generally want us around.”

“Why not?”

“What I told you about werewolves earlier is true, but we’re also at the bottom of the chain. We, like vampires and zombies, are like the dregs of the fae world.”

“Even though you can shift whenever you want?”

“Not whenever. We’re still dependent on the full moon, even if we can choose when to turn within those three days.”

“You’re fae, so why should anyone care?”

He cocks a brow. “You scoop manure. Why don’t you lead the council?”

“Point taken.” When he puts it in human terms, it makes sense. “So, basically you’re me?”

“Right. Not that I don’t think you could lead the council. But with people like Gunnar holding power, other people have to fall in line.”

“You guys don’t.”

“Except we do—fae aren’t allowed in the walls except under special approval.”

I give him an approving smile. “So, you’re rebels.”

“You could look at it like that.”

“Nice.”

“So are you.” He gives me a playful nudge. “You just didn’t know it.”

“Speaking of things I don’t know.”

“Uh-oh,” he mutters.

“You knew this line of questioning was coming.”

“As long as you’re not mad at me.”

I look him square in the eyes. “I definitely am, but I’ll forgive you.”

He gives a little nod. “What’s your first question?”

“Do you know what kind of fae my father is? That I half am?”

“No. Your mother took that secret with her to the grave.”

“But every fae I’ve come across seems to know exactly what I am. The orange glowy palm appears to be a dead giveaway, but none of them stick around long enough to tell me.”

“Don’t forget I grew up around you. I only ever go out into the woods to hunt or shift. The majority of my life has been spent inside the walls of Skoro, just like you. I don’t have fae friends or know what the others know. My life is a human one.”

“Aside from turning into a wolf every so often.”

“And bringing home more meat than anyone else inside the walls.”

“Do you parents know what I am?”

“If they do, they haven’t told me.”

“Maybe they know, and that’s why your father initially didn’t want me in your life.”

“Possibly.”

“You don’t think so?” I stop.

He gives me a sympathetic glance. “I really think they just didn’t want to get involved with fae matters, but your mother was so nice and they couldn’t say no to a baby in need—fae or otherwise.”

“They really don’t know?”

“If they do, they’ve kept it from me. And judging by the reactions of the fae who’ve seen you, they’re terrified. You’re either dangerous, or you hold the ability to become so.”

“As evidenced by the dead fae outside the cabin.”

Harek nods. “They really melted ?”

“You don’t believe me?”

“It’s not that. I’ve never even heard of such a thing, or of anyone absorbing another fae’s magic after killing them.”

“What are you saying?”

“You might be a really rare fae.”

My shoulders slump. “In other words, it’s going to be harder to learn about my powers.”

“Maybe, but it seems like many recognize you. It’s just a matter of getting answers from one.”

“So, I’m common. Everyone knows what I am.”

“Just because they recognize your magic doesn’t mean your kind isn’t rare. They all act like you’re the first of your kind they’ve ever seen. I’d say that counts.”

“This is so frustrating!”

Harek wraps an arm around me. “We’ll find answers. It might not be until we reach the metropolis, but we’ll get them.”

“You think so?”

“I have no doubt.”

“If only I had your confidence.”

“Trust me.” He squeezes my shoulders. “If these free roamers know what you are, the civilized ones will too. They’ll have more information, and we can sort through their libraries if we have to.”

“They have libraries? As in multiple?” My heart flutters at the thought. On the few occasions I’ve been able to spend in Skoro’s little library, I felt like I was in heaven.

“From what I hear. They have streets paved in gold, jewels decorating the signposts, and everything runs on magic.”

I blink a few times. “You could live there, but you chose Skoro?”

He chuckles. “My parents picked our establishment.”

“Why?”

“They like living a quiet life.”

I pull away from him. “I want to see the libraries, gold streets, and jewels. Let’s go!”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do—get you there.”

“You’re sure it’s in this direction?”

“Yeah. My father has only talked about it at least a thousand times.”

I shake my head, unable to believe anyone would pick Skoro over the metropolis where gold and jewels are so common they decorate with them. And that doesn’t even touch on the books—they need multiple libraries to put all of them.

We set off, and Harek tells me the stories his parents have passed onto him about fae cities. My mind lights up with ideas, and I try not to think about them not allowing us in. Him a werewolf and me a halfling. I can definitely imagine that happening with us being so low on the chain.

But if we could get inside… it would be beyond my wildest imaginings. Bright colors, happy music, magic as a way of life. What else could they have? Academies? Theaters? Amusement parks? All things my mother told me about when I was a little girl. Things I now realize she must’ve seen with her own eyes.

The possibilities seem endless.

For the first time since I was a child, I have hope for my future.