Shadow Faerie

Chapter 21

Twenty-One

I don’t see Aurora at all the following day, which is odd considering she’s had some activity or other planned for the two of us every few hours since the moment I arrived here. She doesn’t show up for archery in the morning and, far worse, she doesn’t join me in the queen’s private parlor in the afternoon for my weekly instruction on etiquette. I’ve survived two of these etiquette lessons already, but I suspect it was only because Aurora was there to make them bearable by poking fun at her mother—something I’d love to do, but wouldn’t dare for fear of receiving some form of horrible magical punishment I’ve never heard of. So I keep my mouth shut and try not to fall asleep as Queen Amrath drones on.

I assume that perhaps Aurora isn’t feeling well, but when Roarke comes to my room in the early evening and I ask how she’s doing, he says, “I believe she’s in perfect health. I saw her having a picnic this afternoon with her ladies-in-waiting.”

“Oh.” An unexpected stab of hurt pierces my chest. “So she’s gone from being overly friendly and telling me how she looks forward to having me as a sister to ignoring me?”

He sighs. “She’s just being moody. I’m sure she’ll get over it once the union has taken place. And what does it matter if she doesn’t? You’ll have me.” He tucks my hair behind my ear and drags one finger briefly along my jaw. “It’s nothing to worry yourself about.”

“Nothing to worry myself about?” I fold my arms over my chest and raise an eyebrow. “Do you plan to continue using this condescending tone once we’re married?”

His lips stretch into a smile, his dark eyes glittering with amusement. “Do you plan to continue to be just as feisty once we’re married?”

I shrug. “Probably.”

“Good. I quite enjoy your feistiness.” He lifts my hand and kisses it, which sends a shiver all the way up my arm.

“You think you’re being so smooth, don’t you,” I say with a roll of my eyes.

“Well, it’s working, isn’t it?”

If you’re aiming to make me feel uncomfortable, then yes, I almost say. But it’s better if he thinks his attempts at charm are working. He hasn’t compelled me to say anything with my Griffin Ability tonight, and if I can get him to hang around until later, I might be able to use my power on him. “Perhaps,” I say with what I hope is a sultry half smile. “If you stay and have dinner with me tonight, we can find out.”

He chuckles as he lowers my hand. “Oh how I wish I could say yes to that. Unfortunately, I’m going out for a few hours. If Aurora hasn’t requested your company this evening, then I assume you’ll be eating on your own. I’ll tell Clarina to bring your dinner here.”

“All right.” Disappointment settles over my shoulders, but I won’t give up yet. “Perhaps you can stop by when you return later and say goodnight.”

“Yes, perhaps. I’ll see how late it is.”

Something nudges my ankle, and I look down to see Bandit rubbing the length of his grey cat-formed body along my leg. “Looking for attention, huh?” I say to him.

Roarke takes a step back. “Well, have a good evening, my love. If I don’t see you later, then—Oh, I almost forgot to give you your second dose of compulsion potion for the day.”

The light weight of disappointment on my shoulders becomes a thousand times heavier. I bite back a sigh and give Roarke a polite frown instead. “Do you think that’s necessary? It took such a toll on me when I tried to use too much power earlier that I assumed my ability will take longer to replenish. I’m sure I’ll be asleep when it happens.”

Roarke looks down at the ruby on my arm as he removes a small bottle from a hidden pocket within his coat. “Hmm. Your power may be slightly slower in replenishing itself, but it appears it will still be ready for use sometime later tonight. I’d rather not miss an opportunity for you to use your ability.” He holds the bottle of potion out toward me, but I make no move to take it.

“I thought we trusted each other now, Roarke.”

“We do.” He lowers his voice. “But my father has ways of discovering the things that happen within his palace. If I don’t compel you, he’ll probably find out. Best to keep him happy, don’t you think?”

Of course it’s best to keep the king happy, but that means losing out on another opportunity to command Roarke. It’s pointless to argue, though, and Roarke might even become suspicious. So I take the bottle from him and sip a small amount.

“Good.” He takes the bottle and screws the lid back on. “So, Emerson, when your Griffin Ability next appears, you’re going to say the word ‘open.’”

“Open? Open what?”

“That’s up to you. As Aurora pointed out yesterday, it’s becoming clear that your intentions—not only your words—play a role in instructing your Griffin Ability. So I’d like you to give as simple a command as possible—the word ‘open’—while deciding in your mind exactly what should open. A window, a drawer, your balcony doors, your wardrobe. Anything.”

“Okay.” Of course, I’m now wondering if there’s any way I can use this to my advantage. Which door can I open that I’ve never been allowed to open before? And how likely it is that King Savyon might be behind whichever door I choose, ready to take out his wrath on me the moment he discovers me sneaking around?

“Oh, and tomorrow night you’ll be having dinner with my family,” Roarke says as he opens my sitting room door. “Just the four of us and you. My father would like to see the improvement you’ve made since he first met you.” My fear must be obvious on my face, because Roarke quickly adds, “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll do just fine. Wear an appropriate dress, speak politely about appropriate topics, and make occasional use of basic magic while you’re at the table. He just wants to be certain you don’t stand out like a human amongst faeries, that’s all.”

“Right. Of course.” I clear my throat. “And, uh, in the morning can we try some more building in the shadow world? I’m excited to see what else my power can do.”

Roarke smiles. “Certainly. I look forward to it.” Then he walks out and closes the door, leaving me with my heart almost hammering itself right out of my chest.

Tomorrow is the day. Tomorrow I’m going to finally do what I came here to do. Roarke and I will be in the shadow world with hardly any guards around, and when he lets me choose to build whatever I want to build, I’ll command him instead.

I walk to the table and sit down amongst the books and papers I’ve been writing notes on. I can’t write down what I plan to use my Griffin Ability for—I can’t risk anyone finding out —but I doodle while I think. While I decide what to say to the guards, what to say to Aurora if she’s there, and what to say to Roarke.

Tell me every single thing you know about my mother and how to help her.

I repeat the words silently over and over until they’re embedded in my brain. Then I begin to wonder just how complicated the magic that’s required to heal Mom might be. I probably won’t remember everything Roarke tells me. Which means I need to instruct him to write everything down instead. Once he’s done that, I’ll use whatever Griffin magic I have left to tell the faerie paths to open. If I can manage that, then I don’t need to find one of those candles or run all the way to the gap over Velazar Island.

Cold slowly seeps into my bones as the fire on the other side of the room diminishes from burning logs to glowing embers. I reach for my coat hanging over one of the other chairs—a ridiculous thing that looks like something a circus ringmaster might wear. Red with gold-edged lapels, long enough to reach my ankles and billow out behind me as I walk. Clarina paired it with black-and-gold pants and a white shirt with ruffles down the front, and told me the queen would love it. Now that I think of it, Queen Amrath smiled when I walked into her parlor this afternoon, so perhaps Clarina was right.

I stand and walk to the fireplace as I pull the jacket on. Using magic, I manage to lift several pieces of wood from the copper bucket and add them to the fire without being too clumsy. Then I sift through my brain for the right spell to ignite not just one flame, but many. When the fire bursts back into life, I can’t help smiling. If I wasn’t so anxious about tomorrow, I’d probably clap my hands too.

A loud knock on my door wipes the smile from my face. I turn quickly as the door opens. I haven’t uttered a word yet, which means it can only be—

“Em, I have more books for you,” Aurora announces as she strides in with a pile of books floating behind her. “I hope you’ve finished the last lot.”

I blink at her. “No, I haven’t finished the last lot that you gave me only two days ago.”

“Well, these are more important.” She directs the pile of books toward the table, and they drop down onto my page of doodles. She stands in front of me and places her hands on her hips. “I’m serious. They contain important historical events from Unseelie history. You need to read them before the union ceremony.”

“Before the ceremony? Aurora, I’m not a fast reader like you. You can’t ignore me all day, leave me alone to face your mother, and then barge in here to tell me to read a gazillion books in less than two weeks.”

She covers her hand with her mouth as she laughs. “Em, don’t be silly. I haven’t been ignoring you. I had to attend a birthday picnic with one of my ladies. Didn’t Noraya bring you my message?”

I cross my arms, but I’m starting to feel silly now. I couldn’t help feeling hurt at being excluded from the picnic Roarke mentioned, but if it wasn’t Aurora’s event—if it was someone else’s birthday—then of course it had nothing to do with me. “No, Noraya didn’t tell me anything,” I say quietly.

“Well, that’s very strange. And you know I haven’t given you anywhere near a gazillion books. You should be able to finish them in a few days. Start tonight. Keep reading late if you have to.”

“Aurora, that’s—”

“It’s important, that’s what it is.” There is no merriment in her tone, no sparkle of laughter in her eyes. “Our world can be a cold place to those who don’t fit in, Em. You want to survive it, don’t you?”

“Of course.” I lower my hands to my sides. “Why are you being so—”

“Good. If you come across anything you don’t understand, I’ll happily explain things to you. Perhaps we can go to the spa together tomorrow. I’ll have the ladies there prepare some beauty treatments for us. You can tell me all about what you’ve read.”

“Oh. There’s a spa here?”

“Yes. We can go in the afternoon. Roarke told me you’re visiting the shadow world again in the morning?”

I nod. If all goes well, I won’t return to this palace. I won’t have any beauty treatments, and I’ll probably never see my new friend again. “Uh, yes. We can do the spa thing in the afternoon.”

“Great. Unless you change your mind about seeing Roarke. Then we can do the spa in the morning.”

I nod again, though I have no intention of changing my plans.

“Well, goodnight then. And happy reading.” Aurora spins around, her skirt swishing around her ankles, and strides out with the same haughtiness with which she entered.

I look down at the couch where Bandit is curled up on a cushion, watching me through half-open eyes. “She’s still being strange,” I say to him. I return to the table and push the pile of books aside. I’ll be gone tomorrow, so there’s no point in reading any of them. I know what I’m going to say to Roarke tomorrow, but I still need to decide on how to command the guards who’ll be in the shadow world with us. I brush the quill feather against my cheek as I ponder different commands. Then I frown as I notice that the book on top of the newest pile is the same book that made Aurora gasp in horror the other night in the library. The book featuring graphic and gruesome deaths of historical figures. She said we’d definitely give this one a miss, but either she changed her mind, or she accidentally included it.

As I draw the book closer, I notice that none of the gold embossed words set into the dark cover are English. Aurora knows I haven’t yet learned any foreign fae languages, so it must be an accident that this book is here. I flip it open and turn through the first few age-stained pages, each of which is filled with the same strange combination of letters and unfamiliar symbols.

I shut the book, but as I push it aside, I notice something: the smallest corner of a piece of paper sticking out between the pages. Paper that’s newer and whiter than the aged pages above and below it. I slide the book toward me once more and open to the page with the corner of paper sticking out. The paper is a small square with a few hastily scrawled words on it. A scrawl I immediately identify as Aurora’s handwriting.

I swear I didn’t know about this.

My heart begins to patter again. I push the note aside and take a closer look at the page it was sitting on. Scribbled in between the lines of foreign words, I see partial sentences in English, as if Aurora didn’t have time to translate everything properly.

From the ways of the witches … one of the few methods to separate magic from life essence … most subjects survive the spell despite all magic being removed … magic is transferred in its entirety to the recipient … spell relies on complete willingness … cannot under any circumstances be forced … recitation of the following words … used in conjunction with a blood spell, such as the union spell.

With my breaths coming fast now and my fingers shaking, I turn the page—and the words printed across it are words I recognize. Words I’ve been repeating for days. Words I will be whispering in private to Roarke once we’ve cut our hands, tattooed marks onto our fingers, and spoken the public words of the union ceremony spell. These are the words—so he’s led me to believe—of our private vows. And thanks to Aurora, I can now read what they mean.

I come to you of my own free will,

with a willing heart and a willing mind,

to give you my power,

every part of my magic.

I hand it over in its entirety,

keeping nothing for myself.

My magic is yours.

I blink at the words for several moments, unable to move, barely able to breathe. “Ho-lee crap,” I whisper. Then I shove the book away from me and stand so abruptly that my chair falls backwards. No way, my brain tells me. No way, no way, no way. Roarke wouldn’t do something like this. He wants to rule beside me. He wants me to be queen of the shadow world.

Except … he doesn’t.

My mind races as I put together the pieces of Roarke’s plan. Now I understand why he’s always emphasized the fact that he’ll never force me into anything: because a willing subject is exactly what this spell requires. My hands curl into fists so tight my nails digs into my palms. Everything—everything—he’s done has been about earning my trust, getting me onto his side. His gifts, his kindness and occasional flirting, even allowing Dash to stay so that I’d have a friend—it’s all been part of luring me toward the moment where I willingly marry him while unwittingly hand over my magic.

Standing there in shocked silence, I arrive abruptly at another realization: Roarke was never going to heal Mom. Once my magic is his, he’ll head straight for the shadow world, claim it as his own, and destroy anyone who tries to stop him or take that world away from him. Waking my mother and healing her mind won’t come anywhere near his to-do list.

And what about Dash? Roarke would never have let him go. Is he a prisoner? Dead? And Aurora … was she telling the truth about not knowing Roarke’s plans to use this spell? Or could she have known all along and suddenly had a change of heart? But Roarke is her brother. Why would she go behind his back and tell me about this spell? Is this information some kind of trap?

Bandit rubs against my legs again, in the form of a ginger cat this time. I bend and pick him up, hugging him so tightly I’m afraid I might hurt him. “I don’t know what to do,” I whisper into the hair along his back, so quietly that even I can barely hear my own voice.

A loud rap at the door makes me jump. “Emerson, my love?” Roarke’s voice calls out.

I press my hand over my mouth to cover my gasp. Bandit tumbles from my arms, shifts into a bird, and swoops onto my shoulder. I look around, lost for a moment with no thought, no plan. Then I quickly return the fallen chair to its usual position, grab the offending book, and shove it under the cushion. “Emerson, are you in there?” Roarke asks. I hurry to the balcony doors. I open and close them as quietly as I can, the cold air hitting me immediately. As Bandit takes off and flies away, I swing my legs over the balustrade and begin climbing down.