Shadow Faerie

Chapter 20

Twenty

Now that I know about the shadow world, Roarke is eager to get me back there. I’ve barely eaten anything off the tray of breakfast in my sitting room when two of his guards arrive to accompany me to his suite. I stride through the glossy hallways with them, feeling a little better than last night. Probably because I’ve managed to push my guilt into the far reaches of my mind where I don’t have to think about it much.

“Em, I’m so glad you know all about this place now,” Aurora says the moment I recover from the dizziness on the other side of the portal. “I’ve hated keeping it a secret from you.” Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, though, and I begin to wonder if Roarke may have been right: perhaps she is afraid she’ll lose her new friend once the union takes place. But I can’t ask her about it now. It would be awkward with Roarke right here.

“Me too,” I tell her, forcing a wide smile onto my face. “I can’t wait to see what my Griffin Ability can do here.”

“Yokshin made more candles,” Aurora tells Roarke, removing a bag from her shoulder. She looks past him and holds the bag out toward one of Roarke’s guards. “Please go through the castle, and wherever you see a dresser, add some candles to the drawers.” The guard responds with a nod and quickly hurries off to do as he was told.

I look around, noting that the light seems to be exactly the same as it was when Roarke and I were here last night. “What time of day is it?” I ask.

“Day and night don’t seem to exist here,” Roarke says. “We haven’t seen a sun or moon, and the same greyish dim light always fills the sky. We don’t know the source of the light. Perhaps it’s a magical copy of the light that illuminated the original world this land came from.”

“That’s so strange.”

“Yes. We can try to change it, perhaps, but for now, let me show you your future home,” Roarke says, putting an arm around me and leading me forward.

As we head for the castle, I can’t help comparing it to the palace I’ve spent the last few weeks living in. Gleaming marble, gold finishes, and an intricate structure make the Unseelie Palace a beautiful and impressive building to behold. Roarke’s castle is plainer and appears far more fortified with its stone walls, moat and drawbridge. “It doesn’t look particularly welcoming,” I comment.

“It isn’t meant to be,” Roarke says. “I expect someone might try to take this world from us, so I’m prepared to fight for it. You’ll notice the castle requires a lot more work still. We’ve only built about half of it. And so far the moat is in front of the main gate only. We still need to extend it all the way around the castle.”

“So you’re hoping my magic can help you with this?”

“Yes.”

Black smoky tendrils rise from the ground and curl lazily around us as we walk. The dull, indistinct shadow cast by one of the ornamentally clipped bushes becomes darker and more solid. It rises from the ground like a drop of black ink dispersing through water, coalescing roughly into the shape of a stingray with no tail. I stop walking and duck down as the ink-shade comes toward us, but it simply soars overhead and continues on its way.

“You’re protected by your amulet, remember?” Roarke says.

“The inside of the castle is also protected,” Aurora adds. “Well, most of it. The towers aren’t safe yet, but as we build each room, we add the protective enchantments to the interior walls so the ink-shades can’t enter.”

“We plan to eradicate them all, of course,” Roarke continues, “but in case we can’t, our home will at least be safe inside.”

I look back over my shoulder to make sure there are guards still stationed outside the portal. Not that I’m super confident in their abilities if they’ve already managed to let two ink-shades slip past them without even noticing. I want to suggest once more that everyone in the palace should have an amulet, but I can see why Roarke isn’t interested in that precaution. It would require him or his father to explain why the amulets are necessary—and that won’t happen as long as they’re keeping this world a secret.

“I assume your father knows about all the building you’re doing in this world?” I ask, facing forward again.

“Yes, although he thinks it’s for the family. He sees this place as more of a retreat—a holiday destination—and he’s been happy for us to fill it in whatever way we want. He has no idea I’ll soon be claiming this world as my own. As our own,” he corrects, taking hold of my hand.

I look to my other side at Aurora. “And you don’t mind?”

She keeps her eyes trained forward. “It doesn’t bother me that Roarke wants to rule his own territory. I’m not interested in that sort of thing. But I refuse to choose sides if he and Dad end up fighting.”

Roarke lets out a low rumble of a laugh. “Hopefully Father will understand.”

Having met the Unseelie King, I highly doubt he’ll respond reasonably when he discovers his son has taken over this territory and stolen the shiny new Griffin Gifted weapon—me—all for himself. But with any luck, Mom and I will be long gone by the time the king retaliates.

We cross the grey grass and head for the drawbridge. Once inside the castle, Roarke and Aurora spend the next hour or two showing me every single thing they’ve already built, and discussing exactly what I should try with my Griffin Ability. Roarke keeps glancing at the ruby on my wrist, which, by late morning, is almost completely filled with color.

As my Griffin magic nears the point where it’s ready to be used, we walk along the cold, stone hallways toward the unfinished side of the castle. We reach a bare room with only three walls, open on one side where the fourth wall should be. I walk out onto the grass and turn to look up at the partially formed, half-furnished rooms on this side of the castle.

“How much do you want to try building?” Aurora asks. “One room? A suite? An entire wing?”

“I have no idea. I don’t know what my magic is capable of.”

“Try what we suggested a little earlier,” Roarke says. “One complete room with furniture inside.”

I blink at him. “Aren’t you going to compel me?”

His eyes swing briefly to Aurora before returning to me. “I don’t see the need. We trust each other now, don’t we? You’re not going to turn around and use your magic against us. Are you?” he adds.

“Of course not.” But that’s exactly where my mind went. This could be my chance. I could command Aurora to stay right here, and command Roarke to leave this world with me. I could leave him somewhere, fetch Mom, and tell him—with whatever Griffin magic I have left—to heal her. And the guards … could I command them to stay here too? Would the magic work if they’re all the way back at the portal and can’t hear me?

“Emerson?” Roarke frowns at me. “You seem uncertain about something. Would you like to tell me what you’re planning for your magic?”

“Sorry, I’m just thinking. I don’t always know how best to word these commands.” I glance at Aurora, but she’s biting her lip and staring at the ground, her mind clearly elsewhere. “Um, I mean … how much detail do you think I need to say? Would it be enough to tell a chair to form itself, and then just picture what it looks like in my head? Or do you think I need to talk about the color of the cushion, and the shape of the chair, and …” I trail off, half my mind still trying to figure out if I can risk using my ability to command all the people in the shadow world instead of doing what Roarke wants me to do.

“I don’t know,” Roarke says. “It isn’t my magic. You need to try it out and see what happens.”

Aurora clears her throat, seeming to return from whatever thoughts she was lost in. “Well, from your experience over the past few weeks with all the dull commands Roarke’s compelled you to say, we’ve learned that your intentions and thoughts are almost as important as the words you say out loud. So I don’t think you need to speak all the details. Just imagine them, and hopefully your Griffin Ability will do the rest.”

Without having to look at the ruby, I sense the moment at which my power is fully topped up and ready to escape me. I decide then that I can’t risk commanding Roarke now. I don’t have enough control yet, and if I don’t say everything perfectly, I could easily wind up a prisoner instead of a bride.

“Oh, and try not to let all your magic go in one command,” Aurora adds. “See how much you can hold back.”

I look at the empty, three-walled room in front of me and begin speaking. “There is another room here,” I say, picturing the room forming around us by adding itself onto the existing one. My voice reverberates in that strange, deep way that still sounds creepy to my ears. “It has a bay window on one side, with a seat beneath the window, and cushions scattered across the seat. Wooden panels cover the walls and floor, curtains hang from the window, and three armchairs sit in the middle of the room.”

Magic rushes from me, and I clench my hands into fists, my whole body tensing as I try to hold the flood back. I imagine myself slowly turning a tap, letting out only the required amount of power. And then, all around us, walls begin to rise from the ground. I watch in utter amazement as wooden panels materialize to cover the walls, and a ceiling spreads through the air above us. Where the ceiling meets the walls, ornamental molding forms itself into cornices that look exactly the way I pictured them in my mind.

“Oh, look there!” Aurora exclaims as one of the walls pushes itself outward into a bay window. A seat rises up, and colorful cushions expand into existence on top of it. Curtains the same as the ones in my room at the palace drop down on either side of the window.

“Oh!” I throw my hands out to steady myself as a wooden floor pops up beneath our feet. A grinding, rumbling sensation travels up through my body—the foundation forming beneath the ground?—before disappearing a few seconds later. Then, as three chairs unfold from the air right in front of us, we step hurriedly back. The armchairs expand, their cushions puffing up and their legs molding into that vintage ball-and-claw design I’ve seen on many of the chairs furnishing the Unseelie Palace. I imagined them as dragon claws in my head, and as the chairs slide into their final positions in the center of the room, the claws lengthen and sharpen into solid wooden versions of Imperia’s feet.

Finally, everything becomes still. A wave of tiredness ripples over me, though it isn’t nearly enough to dampen the absolute wonder I feel at having created everything inside this room. I raise my hand, lightly touch the wall closest to me to make sure it’s real, and then lean my weight more heavily against it.

“Incredible,” Roarke murmurs. “We’ve studied architecture spells, but everything still takes so much time for us to create. Then you come along and complete a whole room in under a minute. It’s mind-blowing.”

“Absolutely,” Aurora breathes, her eyes tracing the contents of the room before finally landing on me. “How do you feel?”

“Quite tired, but I haven’t depleted all my power yet. I managed to hold some of it back, though it was difficult. I can feel it struggling to break free.” I push away from the wall, part of my attention focused on wrestling my remaining Griffin magic into submission. “Shall I try something else? Something bigger? If it’s too much for my magic, then I assume it just … won’t happen?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. What do you want to try?” she asks.

“Um … something outside?” I realize I haven’t created a way out of this room aside from the window, but a simple command results in a door forming between this room and the empty room next to it. We walk through to one of the rooms that’s still open on one side, and head out onto the grass. I cast about for something to add to this dull landscape to make it a little prettier. Could I add color? Could I add a sun or moon or stars?

I lift my gaze to the grey sky above and utter a simple command: “There are stars in the sky.” It’s a relief to let the remainder of my Griffin magic flood out of my body. Far above, pinpricks of light begin to appear. I have a vague memory of how stars are actually formed, but I have no idea if those are real stars way up there, or if they’re just balls of magic light floating high above … above …

The light becomes brighter and the world turns white. Sickening dizziness rushes at me. My head tilts back, and I fall, weightless, into nothing. White becomes black. Utter darkness surrounds me.

After an indeterminate amount of time, dim light slowly gathers in my vision. I realize I’m lying on the grass with tendrils of black smoke spiraling lazily into the air on either side of me and a voice faintly calling my name from far away. Aurora’s lips move as she leans over me, her features screwed up in concern. “Em? Em!” Her voice is an echo that slowly moves closer, eventually layering itself over the movement of her lips. “Em. Emerson!”

“Mm?”

Roarke appears beside her. “Here, let me give her this. I grabbed it from Yokshin’s supplies.”

“Are you sure it’s the right thing?”

“Yes. I’ve taken it before.” Roarke lifts my upper body and pulls me against his chest. He removes the stopper from a little brown glass bottle that, for a moment, reminds me of Chelsea’s herbal remedies. It’s so odd to think of her ordinary little salon in her ordinary little house when I’m lying on the ground of a foreign world beneath a sprinkling of stars I created with my own magic. A breathy laugh escapes me, which increases the concern on Aurora’s face and makes Roarke pause with the bottle just in front of my lips.

“Em?” Aurora says in a voice that sounds higher than usual. “Why are you laughing?”

Then I remember that Chelsea isn’t alive anymore and will never make another herbal remedy, and the breath of laughter dies on my lips.

“I’m going to give it to her, okay?” Roarke says.

“Wait,” Aurora says, stopping his hand before he can place the bottle against my lips. “That potion is meant to restore normal magic after using too much of it, but Em was using Griffin magic. Her levels of normal magic should be totally fine. That potion isn’t going to help her.”

“It can’t hurt either,” Roarke says, tipping some liquid into my mouth.

I’ve already begun to feel less lightheaded though, even before the unfamiliar liquid burns down the back of my throat. I lick my lips and push my hair away from my face. “Why did I pass out?”

“I think you tried to do too much,” Aurora says. “Your Griffin Ability attempted to carry out your command, but you didn’t have nearly enough magic to fill an entire sky with stars.” Her eyes are still wide as she sits awkwardly on the grass in front of me in her voluminous yellow skirt covered in gold leaves. “You need to learn your limits before trying something so big, Em. You don’t want to accidentally kill yourself.”

I blink at her. “Do you think that could actually happen?”

“I don’t know!” She throws her hands up. “No one else has magic like yours. We’re still figuring it out, remember?”

“Why are you angry with me?”

“Because you should have been more careful.”

“She’s concerned, that’s all,” Roarke says. He still has one arm around me, but I’m strong enough to sit on my own, so I gently ease myself away from him.

“I’m concerned too,” I say. “I didn’t realize my Griffin Ability would reach its limit on something so simple. It obviously isn’t as powerful as everyone thinks it is.”

Roarke laughs. “You created stars, Emerson. And not just two or three; dozens of them appeared before you lost consciousness. That’s far more powerful than any magic an ordinary faerie possesses. And I think that if you store it up—if you don’t use it immediately each time you feel the power coming on—then you can probably do greater things.”

“It’s dangerous to test these ‘greater things,’” Aurora says, her brow furrowed in a deep frown. “You need to be careful.”

“Don’t worry,” Roarke says to her. “I won’t let anything happen to Emerson.”

She looks directly at him, folding her arms over her chest. “Won’t you?”

“Of course not.” He looks affronted. “Do you know how fast I ran back through the palace to get that potion? I didn’t trust any of my men to get there quicker than I could.” He places one hand over mine. “It terrified me to think you might not recover, Emerson. I know that neither of us is in this for love, but I do care for you.”

“You care for her Griffin Ability,” Aurora mutters.

Roarke pins his dark burgundy gaze on her. “Please don’t make scornful remarks under your breath like that. It isn’t the kind of behavior that befits a princess. You’re better than that, Aurora.”

She levels her simmering gaze at him for several moments before looking away. “You’re right. I apologize. I only want you and Em to be happy, of course. To take care of one another.”

“And that’s exactly what we’ll do.” Roarke fits his arm around me again. His thumb rubs up and down the bare skin just above my elbow in a way that feels uncomfortably intimate. “For the rest of our lives.”

Aurora nods and smiles, but her eyes continue to stare off into the distance, and her smile is far from genuine.