Shadow Faerie

Chapter 12

Twelve

In less than a minute, I find myself back inside the warmth of the palace in a small sitting room somewhere near the ballroom. Despite the turmoil of emotions overwhelming me, I didn’t dare disobey Roarke when he uttered “Follow me” in a tone icier than the winter air. Dash hesitated, but he soon caught up to the two of us. Back in the ballroom, no one stopped the prince or his betrothed. No one even looked our way. I suspect Roarke’s magic was responsible for that.

The door of the sitting room swings shut of its own accord. Flames spring to life in the fireplace. “What is he doing here?” Roarke demands immediately, gesturing at Dash without looking at him.

“I … I don’t …” I run my hands over my face, trying to focus on Roarke’s words and seeing only Chelsea and Georgia’s lifeless eyes. Their cold bodies. Alone in their beds in their little Stanmeade house. I blink and look into the crackling flames dancing in the fireplace, hoping to sear the bright, warm image into my mind. “I don’t know,” I say finally, turning away from the fire. “I was as shocked as you are to see him here. This thing is still attached to me—” I touch the coin-sized piece of metal behind my ear “—so no magic should have been able to locate me.”

Roarke crosses the room. His fingers wrap around Dash’s arm. “Where are your guardian markings?”

Dash tugs his arm away, then lets out a short laugh. “There’s this thing girls use. It’s called concealer. Works pretty well for covering—”

“And how did you get into my palace?”

Dash takes his time folding his arms over his chest before squarely facing Roarke. “Your mother decided to outsource the design of Em’s dress for tonight. When one of your clothes casters came to pick it up, I made sure I was there, ready to take his place. His transport brought me back here. It was all remarkably easy, in fact.”

“And how did you know Emerson was here in the first place?”

“An educated guess plus a process of elimination. I figured it was either you, the Seelies or the Guild who got hold of her. I asked around, and the Guild and the Seelies still seemed to be under the impression Em was either dead or missing. You know, since the incident at the cliff.” Dash shrugs. “Therefore it had to be you guys.”

“So you told your superiors all about your suspicions, and they rewarded you by letting you sneak your way into my home and poke your unwelcome nose around? Doubtful. You don’t seem nearly high up enough in the Guild ranks to be trusted with a task as important as retrieving a dangerous and powerful Griffin Gifted faerie like Emerson.”

Dash’s gaze narrows slightly. “I’m not here on behalf of the Guild.”

“Ah.” Roarke nods. “I had a feeling it might be something along those lines.” He walks to the dresser on the other side of the room and opens a drawer. “You and Emerson seemed to be getting very cozy when Aurora and I found the two of you together in her old bedroom.” He closes the drawer and turns to face us again. “After she escaped the Guild. When you—a guardian—shouldn’t have known anything about her whereabouts.” He shakes his head and lets out a quiet laugh. “A traitor to your own kind, I see. How disappointing.”

Dash’s expression darkens. “Not really. I just happen to disagree with tagging, tracking and imprisoning Griffin Gifted.”

“And do you have a tag on you, guardian boy? So that someone can summon you or determine your location?”

“I told you I’m not here on behalf of the Guild, so why would I be stupid enough to let someone tag me?”

“Good.” Roarke moves toward Dash. “But just in case …” His hand sweeps up and slaps against the side of Dash’s neck.

Almost too fast to see, Dash grabs Roarke’s arm and twists it, spinning the prince around and trapping his arm behind his back. “What did you just do?” Dash hisses. The sound of a sizzle rushes through the air, and with a yelp, Dash shoves Roarke away from him. “What the—”

Roarke straightens, rolls his shoulders, and adjusts the collar of his jacket. “I don’t appreciate being manhandled.”

Dash feels the side of his neck. “What is this?” As his hand moves away, I see a small circle of metal just like the one behind my ear.

“A precaution, that’s all,” Roarke says.

“How dare you—”

“You sneak into my home, and you want to know how I dare to—”

“Stop!” I shout. My Griffin Ability isn’t ready to issue a magical command yet, but my cry is enough to make both Roarke and Dash pause and look my way. “Just … just stop.” My voice wavers. “My aunt and cousin are dead, and the two of you are acting like petty children.”

A frown tugs at Roarke’s eyebrows downward. “Your aunt and cousin? The ones you lived with in the non-magic world?”

I look back into the fire as I nod. “Dash told me. Outside. That’s why I was sitting on the ground. I was … I just can’t believe it.”

“These are the people you didn’t particularly care for?” Roarke asks, his tone not unkind, merely curious. “The ones who treated you poorly since you first moved in with them?”

I nod. “But they were still family. Well—I don’t know what they were. Mom and Chelsea were sisters, but Mom’s a faerie and Chelsea was human, so … they can’t have been sisters? I don’t know. I don’t understand.” I press my fingers to my temples again and squeeze my eyes shut. “But I lived with them. For years. I thought they were family, and now they’re just gone.”

I hear Roarke’s quiet footsteps moving closer before he places one hand carefully against the small of my back. “I’m sorry, Emerson. I can’t imagine what that feels like. But I can promise you this: you’re about to get an entirely new family. And though it may not be obvious from the outside, we do care about each other. We’ll care for you too. You’ll be one of us, and you’ll finally belong somewhere. You and your mother.”

Across the room, Dash snorts and mutters something under his breath. I almost do the same, because of course Roarke’s true motive has nothing to do with a desire to give me a new family and a place to belong. He wants my Griffin Ability. But perhaps there’s more to it than that. Perhaps he really does want this union to work out. Perhaps he does plan to care for me for the rest of our lives.

“You’ll stay, of course,” Roarke says to Dash. “For the ceremony. You’re Emerson’s friend. I’m sure she’ll want you to be here.”

“Your ceremony is more than two weeks away,” Dash says before I can voice my own opinion. “I can’t stay here for that long. I have a job, remember?”

“You also have a desire to stop this union,” Roarke points out. “Which means that if I let you leave, you’ll tell the Guild exactly what’s happening, and they’ll attempt to put a halt to our plans and retrieve Emerson. Or kill her.”

“Dash wouldn’t tell—”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Roarke says to me. “If you want this union to happen, then we can’t take the risk of the Guild getting involved.”

“The Guild will wonder where I am,” Dash says.

“Let them wonder then. They don’t know you’re here.”

Dash exhales slowly, his bright eyes never leaving Roarke. “I know this doesn’t matter to you, but I have important cases—”

“You should have considered that before you broke into my home,” Roarke says.

“Fine then.” Dash forces his fists behind his back and gives Roarke the most obviously fake smile I’ve ever seen. “Thank you so much for the invitation, Your Royal Highness. I’d be delighted to stay here and attend your union ceremony.”

Roarke nods. “Good. Just make sure your wrist markings remain covered. I can’t guarantee your safety if my father discovers what you are.”

“Certainly. And I’ll keep my lips zipped and ask no questions about any of the laws you Unseelies have broken lately, or about, say, that colorless shadowy place I woke up in after you abducted Em and me.”

“Perfect. See to it that you don’t forget that promise,” Roarke adds in a threatening tone.

“So … is Dash a guest?” I ask. “Or a prisoner?”

Roarke looks at me. “Would you like me to make him a prisoner?”

“Of course not.”

“Then he is our guest.” He moves closer and tucks a stray curl of hair behind my ear. “I only want to make you happy, Emerson. You’ve received some shocking news this evening, and I’m sure it will be a comfort to have your friend here.”

My frown deepens. “But you don’t trust him and you don’t want him to leave. So why would you let him wander freely around your palace?”

“Don’t worry, he’ll be watched wherever he goes. If he steps out of line, I’ll make sure the Guild finds out that he knows far more about the Griffin rebels than he’s supposed to. I doubt he’ll be able to keep his job after that.” He looks at Dash. “Sound fair?”

Dash tips his head in the slightest of nods. “Perfectly fair, since I plan to be on my very best behavior, Your Regal Princely-ness.”

A muscle in Roarke’s jaw twitches, but, fortunately, he decides not to retaliate. “More importantly, my dear Emerson,” he continues, turning back to me, “I’d like to show you that I care about your happiness. If that means treating your guardian friend as a guest instead of a prisoner, then I’ll do it.”

I still don’t know whether to believe him, but I guess I’ll find out in the coming days. “Okay,” I say warily. “Thank you.”

“Let’s return to the ball now. Push your sorrow aside, my love, and join in the merriment. You’ll soon feel better.”

I doubt that’s true, but I also doubt I have a choice. I don’t think my request to leave the party, climb into bed, and pull the covers over my head would go down well. So I follow Roarke out of the room and back toward the party. I breathe in deeply and press my lips together to keep them from shuddering. I take the first drink that’s offered to me and down it in one go, hoping the contents are enough to dull my senses for the rest of the night.

When it’s close to midnight and my Griffin Ability comes to life, I say the words I’ve been compelled to say. No one hears me amidst the noise, but everyone oohs and aahs in wonder at the six rainbows that arc one after the other across the room as if marking the twelve points of a giant colorful clock. I wish I could experience a little of their awe at the sight of what my own magic has produced, but it seems the various drinks I’ve consumed are doing their job: I don’t feel much of anything anymore.