Shadow Faerie

Chapter 16

Sixteen

“You’re late,” Aurora says the following morning. Her arms remain in position, her eyes fixed firmly on her target, as I hurry toward the area where our archery practice takes place. “I was supposed to give you a lesson before we go to the dragons.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I was looking for Dash. He said he’d join me for breakfast this morning but he never showed up. Have you seen him around?”

With a whoosh and thwip, her arrow strikes the center of the target. She lowers her bow and turns to me with a frown. “Dash left late last night. Didn’t he say goodbye to you?”

I blink. “No. I haven’t seen him since dinner. Why did he leave? I thought …” I shake my head, this unexpected news making no sense to me. “Roarke was so insistent that he stay. Since, you know, he didn’t trust Dash not to bring a whole bunch of guardians back with him.”

Aurora’s frown deepens. “Didn’t Roarke speak to you last night? Later, I mean. Some time after dinner.”

“No, I was asleep then.” Having to speak to so many people during the queen’s tea—which lasted the entire afternoon—left me exhausted, and then Roarke wanted me to practice the union ceremony words again in the early evening. I planned to talk to Dash after dinner, to impress upon him the importance of not sneaking around and getting himself in trouble, but I fell asleep fully clothed and didn’t wake until morning.

“My father received news of an attack on a group of guardians. Several of them were killed, along with the family members who were with them. It was that woman who can’t keep her glass magic under control.”

A shiver chills my blood. “Ada?”

Aurora shrugs. “I don’t know what her name is. Anyway, Roarke spoke to me about it, and we decided Dash should know. I mean, it doesn’t bother us if guardians die. They aren’t our allies. But they’re Dash’s people, so we thought it unfair to keep the information from him.”

“You …” I trail off. “I don’t understand.”

“Why do you still think we’re the bad guys, Em? We’re not.” She nocks another arrow and squints through one eye at the target. “Our ways are just different, that’s all. We thought Dash might know some of the guardians who were killed, and it wouldn’t be right for him to miss their celebration-of-life ceremony.” Thwip. Her arrow lands a little left of the mark in the center of the target.

“Wouldn’t be right?” Once again, an image of the man who lost his entire head comes to mind. “You just said your ways are different. I thought that included your understanding of right and wrong.”

Aurora glares at the arrow before turning to me again. “It does, but not for something like this. It’s right to honor the dead and give them a proper farewell. We may not like the fact that Dash is a guardian, but we’re not so cruel that we’d want to deprive him of the opportunity to say a final farewell to people he cared for.”

“So Roarke just let him leave? That still doesn’t make sense to me. Surely Roarke wouldn’t put his entire court at risk just to let one guardian attend a funeral.”

“He didn’t put anyone at risk. He told Dash he could only leave if he allowed an enchantment to be placed upon him.”

“What enchantment?”

“He’ll become confused whenever he tries to think or speak about the Unseelie Court. Nothing he says will make sense if he tries to tell anyone where it is, and his thoughts will become too muddled for him to bring himself anywhere near here.”

That sounds a lot like the protection the Griffin rebels have cast over their hideout. “And he agreed to that?” I ask.

“Yes, apparently. Roarke said Yokshin performed the enchantment. And to be honest, Em,” she adds as she crooks a finger for one of the archery assistants, a young boy, to come over, “Dash would have been forced to have this enchantment placed on him no matter when he planned to leave the palace.”

I nod slowly. “Makes sense. But I still don’t understand why he didn’t come and say goodbye to me.”

“Well, you said you were asleep.” She hands her bow to the boy and takes the glass of water he offers her. “And perhaps he was in a rush. I know he cares about you, Em. He never would have risked coming here if he didn’t. But he cares about his guardian comrades too. He would have been desperate to get back to find out who died.”

“Yes,” I say quietly. “I’m sure he would have.”

“Oh, fan please,” Aurora adds in a commanding tone as the boy walks away with her bow. He hurries back, makes a few awkward movements in the air with one hand, and an enormous palm leaf appears. He quickly lowers the bow to the ground and grabs hold of the palm with both hands. Aurora tilts her head back and closes her eyes, and I try not to roll my eyeballs right out of my head as the poor boy stands there and fans her. “Okay, that’s enough.” She waves the boy away after several moments, then raises the glass and drinks all the water. “Right. Dragon time.”

“Finally,” I mutter.

“Em,” she says, c*****g her head thoughtfully to the side as we begin walking. “Is there something you haven’t told me about Dash?”

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

“Are you in love with him?”

I can’t help the laughter that bursts free of me. “No, of course not,” I manage to say once I’ve recovered. “I’m just concerned about him.”

“But he loves you.”

“Um, nope. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t.”

“Then why did he risk his life to try to save you from us?”

“Maybe he felt it was his duty. He has that whole guardian ego thing going on, so it’s probably hard for him to resist being the hero who rescues the damsel in distress. Or, at least, any damsel he thinks is in distress.”

“Hmm.” She pushes her hair back over her shoulder. “I think he cared about your wellbeing.”

“Maybe. A little. In a non-love kinda way.”

She gives me a patronizing smile. “Nobody cares that much. Not unless they’re motivated by love.”

With a sigh I ask, “Have you met many guardians, Aurora? I haven’t known them for long, but they all seem to have this crazy desire to fight and protect and rescue, even if it means winding up hurt or dead.”

She groans. “I know. They’re all so irritatingly selfless. We can’t compete, so we don’t even try.”

All the shame I felt while trying to convince Dash—and myself—that I’m not making life any worse than it already is by giving my Griffin Ability to the Unseelies seeps back into my body. “Yeah, I can’t say I identify with the whole guardian thing either,” I say quietly.

“Really? Please remind me, my sweet sister, why you agreed to come here in the first place.”

I look up. “For my mother.”

“Exactly. Now tell me you can’t identify with the words ‘fight,’ ‘protect’ and ‘rescue.’”

“Yes, but she’s my mother,” I explain. “Possibly my only living family. I love her more than anything. I would fight and die for her, but that doesn’t mean I’d do it for people I barely know. I’m not that selfless.”

“And that’s exactly why you’re going to fit in so well with us, Em. We take care of our own. Screw the rest of the world,” she adds with a laugh. She wraps one arm around me and gives me a quick sideways hug as we near the enormous shed housing all the carriages.

Aurora’s words should make me happy. I’ve always wanted to belong somewhere, and Chelsea’s home was never going to be that place. But her words leave me feeling uncomfortable instead. I’ve never considered myself to be anything like these people, but what if she’s right? What if I’m more Unseelie at heart than I ever imagined? What if—

I smother a gasp as the thought occurs to me.

What if I am Unseelie? What if my mother came from this court? What if the cruel magical practices the Unseelies use are part of my history, my blood, my very essence? Is that why I like dragon riding? Is it something bad that’s associated with the Unseelie Court? No, it can’t be. Surely dragons can only be good or evil based on the good or evil things their riders tell them to do. It can’t only be the Unseelies who enjoy soaring through the air on the back of a dragon.

As we pass the shed, I stop, momentarily distracted. “Hang on,” I say to Aurora. “Just give me a minute.” I hurry back and approach the woman busy directing two horseless carriages out of the shed by standing in front of them and motioning with her hands. “Good morning,” I say to her. “Were you on duty late last night?”

The woman seems startled to be addressed by me, but she quickly recovers. “No, my lady. It was Henkin. He’s off now, but he should be—oh, there he is.” She points behind me. “His next shift begins shortly.”

“Thank you.” I stride quickly toward the man, and after he bows and formally greets me, I ask, “Did you see someone leave the palace late last night? A man—um, faerie. Faerie man. Green in his hair?”

“Yes, my lady. I helped him into a carriage myself. Four guards accompanied him.”

I nod slowly. “Okay. And, um … he wasn’t tied up or anything? Like a prisoner?”

Lines crease the driver’s brow as he frowns. “No, my lady. I assumed he was an honored guest. The prince himself shook his hand and bid farewell to him before he climbed into the carriage.”

“Oh. Okay, good. Thank you very much.”

I hurry back to Aurora, who’s watching me with her hands on her hips. “What was that about?”

“Nothing.”

With her usual teasing smile entirely absent from her face, her eyes search mine. “You were checking my story, weren’t you? About Dash.”

“Yes,” I admit. “But you can’t blame me, can you? I still don’t know if I can completely trust you and Roarke.”

“How can you—”

“I trust that you want me to be here, but I know how you feel about guardians. And Dash wasn’t exactly invited, so maybe you wanted to just get rid of him instead of having him hang around saying inappropriate things like he did at the tea yesterday, or sneaking into places he shouldn’t be and sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“And now?” she demands. “Do you feel better having spoken to one of the drivers? Did he verify my story?”

“He did. I … I’m sorry I doubted you.”

She watches me a moment longer, then smiles. “You’re forgiven.” She spins around on the spot, and we continue toward the trees.

“But I did notice,” I add carefully, “the way you and Roarke reacted to Dash telling your mother about that otherworldly place where everything was shadowy and drained of color.”

Aurora’s steps falter for a moment, but she carries on walking. When she doesn’t answer me, I press further. “What was that place? Was it … another world? Somewhere that isn’t the human realm or the fae realm? And why is it a secret?”

Without looking at me, she says, “You’ll need to ask Roarke about that.”

“Aurora, if you want me to trust you, then—”

“Ask Roarke,” she says, looking directly at me, her expression serious. “I don’t want to lie to you, and I know Roarke doesn’t either. He will tell you about it. He’s probably just waiting until he knows he can fully trust you.”

Several moments of studying her face convinces me she’s telling the truth. “Okay,” I say eventually.

We fall into silence as we head through the trees, which is unusual for Aurora. It doesn’t feel uncomfortable, though. More like we’ve both got other things on our minds. As we walk, she absently waves a hand near the back of her head, and her hair quickly braids itself. I lift my hand and concentrate on doing the same thing. After our first ride, I decided she was right about memorizing spells that will help me get ready faster. I don’t want to waste a second of the time I can spend in the air.

“Well done,” Aurora says, and I realize she’s been watching me. “You’re getting quicker at it.”

“Thanks. That’s the plan.”

Ten minutes later, we’re down in Imperia’s enclosure and Phillyp is getting the double saddle ready for us. My heart begins to pound faster, already anticipating the blood-rushing freedom of the skies. Trusting that Imperia knows me well enough now not to chomp me in half, I walk past her front leg and reach up to run one hand along the shimmering scales of her neck. She swings her head slowly around to peer at me through one fiery orange eye. “You might possibly be the best thing about this place,” I tell her.

“Hey,” Aurora objects from behind me.

“Oh, I mean … aside from you.” I face her and add with a smirk, “You’re pretty great too.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “Thanks, but I was actually thinking of my brother. He might be disappointed to know you don’t think he’s the best thing here.”

“Disappointed? Really? I didn’t think he cared that much.”

“Well, he does. He hasn’t confided in me a lot, but I think he hopes that you’ll come to care for him and … well, possibly even love him.”

“Aurora …” My voice is hesitant as she climbs the stairs up to Imperia’s back. “You know my only reason for being here is—”

“—your mother. Yes. I know. But … do you think you could ever mean the words?” She looks down at me from the top of the stairs. “The words you’ve been practicing. The vows. I know you won’t mean them when you actually say them at the ceremony. But, you know … with time … do you think you could?”

Her question leaves me momentarily stunned. “I don’t know.”

“You must have thought about it,” she continues as she climbs onto the front seat of the saddle. “You must have wondered about the future. You’ll be together for years. For centuries, most likely. You must wonder if, during that time, you’ll come to love him?”

Instead of answering her, I focus on the steps as I climb them. I haven’t wondered if I might come to love Roarke because I don’t plan on this union being permanent. And that’s if it even comes to pass, which I’m hoping it won’t. If I get a chance to use my Griffin Ability on Roarke before the ceremony, I’ll take it. I reach the top of the stairs and pull myself up and into the seat behind Aurora’s.

“Anyway, how’s the pronunciation practice going?” Aurora asks, clearly getting the message that I’m not willing to talk about the possibility of loving her brother. “Must be terribly romantic.”

“Yes, romantic indeed, being drilled on the precise pronunciation of every single word. I’ve got the first part down—the public part—but the private vows are harder. The words are more difficult to wrap my tongue around. Super foreign.”

“Not any more foreign than the first part, surely? It’s the same language, after all.”

“I don’t know. It just seems harder to me. Sola-thuk-ma … uk-na-math-ra … me-la-soni-ra …” I sigh as I secure a strap across my body to keep me from falling out of the saddle. “I sound like a toddler learning how to speak. It’s embarrassing.”

Aurora twists her head to the side, although not quite enough to look at me. “What other words do find very difficult?”

“Uh, all of them,’ I joke. “Isin-vir-na. Zo-thu-maa. Men-va.” I enunciate the words slowly, trying to get each syllable right. “Anyway, I shouldn’t be telling you. Supposed to be private and all that.”

She faces forward again, her hands wrapped tightly around the reins. “Yes. True.” I expect her to urge Imperia into the air then, but her hands remain motionless on the reins.

“Is everything okay?” I ask her. “Why aren’t we moving?”

She rolls her shoulders and breathes in deeply. “Yes, everything’s fine. I was just thinking we should spend the evening in the library. I need to find more books for you.”

“Oh, uh … I haven’t actually finished the last set you gave me.”

“Well, you need more. So you have the afternoon to finish what I’ve already given you.”

“Okay.” I frown at the back of her head, wondering if it’s my imagination or if her tone is a little sharp. But she moves the reins then, and I quickly put everything else from my mind. I forget about her acting a little strange, I forget about Dash far away and unable to ever find his way back here, and I prepare to lose myself in the delicious rush of adrenalin.