“TOO TIGHT! Too tight! I can’t breathe!”
To say Everlayne was angry would be an understatement. She yanked on the corset ribbons at the back of my dress with a strength I didn’t know she possessed.
“If you keep on pulling like that, you’re going to crack my ribs,” I groused.
“Good! Maybe then, you’ll…stop…complaining!”
“Broken ribs won’t stop me from complaining,” I muttered sullenly, tugging on the corset stays. They were digging into my skin, pinching me in places my clothes back home had never pinched me before. It sucked.
“Stop that!” Everlayne slapped my hand away, tsking. She faffed with my skirts, bustling around me, swatting at imaginary pieces of fluff that only she could see. As with the other dresses Everlayne had given me, this garment was absolutely stunning. A shimmering red affair made of raw silk. It was the kind of dress that would bring most men to their knees. I fucking hated it.
“What were you even thinking?” Everlayne growled, slapping down the folds of the skirt some more so that it hung properly. “He’s a Fae warrior, Saeris. You can not go around punching Fae warriors.”
“Can I please wear some pants?” I observed myself glumly in the full- length mirror. “And don’t tell me that pants are only for males. I’ve seen plenty of females wandering around the palace wearing pants.”
“We’ve been over this. You’re too pretty to wear pants. Are you listening to me? About Kingfisher?”
I gave her a hard look. “No.”
“You could at least tell me what he did to make you punch him like that.”
“Just trust me. He deserved it.” “Well, I don’t doubt that.”
She’d asked me to explain what had happened seven times in the past hour, but her pleading hadn’t broken me. It would do no good to tell her about the stunt Kingfisher had pulled with the quicksilver. I didn’t want to make things any more tense between them. If Everlayne knew he’d thrown me into a situation that I was fairly sure could have killed me, then things wouldn’t just get worse. They’d become catastrophic, and we were friends. I didn’t want her to suffer any more than she already was. Having Kingfisher as a brother was burden enough, I was sure.
“You’re lucky he didn’t react any worse than he did,” she said.
“Oh?” I scoffed. “I thought his reaction was a little over the top.”
Everlayne had been waiting for me when I returned to my room yesterday. She hadn’t banked on Kingfisher kicking in my bedroom door, me thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and wailing like a banshee. Nor had she expected his ultra-foul temper, his split bottom lip, or the thin line of blood trickling down his chin. She’d squawked when he’d thrown me unceremoniously down onto my bed and snarled, “Bad human,” at me.
“He could have been far worse,” she assured me. “Warriors like Fisher don’t react kindly to violence.”
“Are you saying that he’s so feral that one small right hook is enough to send him on an explosive killing rampage?”
She thought about this while folding a blanket. It took her a while to make up her mind. “Yes,” she decided.
“Then your brother isn’t a warrior, Everlayne. He’s a mindless savage with a shitty temper. But I think I could have already told you that.”
“Please just call me Layne. And do not say that out loud!”
“It’s hardly a secret. I think everyone knows Fisher’s a savage—” “Not that. The brother part,” she said in a loud whisper.
“That’s not common knowledge?”
“Well, yes. And no. It’s just not spoken about. And it’s very, very
complicated.”
“Let me guess. Your mother had an affair because the king’s a vile monster, and she ended up pregnant by someone else?”
Everlayne—Layne—sighed. “No. My mother was married to a Southern lord before she married my father. She had Fisher with her first husband. When Fisher was ten, the king sent his father on a mission to Zilvaren. He never returned. That’s when the gateways were stilled. The king said that Finran, Fisher’s father, was responsible for the quicksilver stilling and declared him a traitor to the Fae—”
“Wait. Kingfisher said that Madra was responsible for stilling the quicksilver.”
Everlayne’s expression became troubled. “And that might be true. Fisher has certainly never believed his father was responsible. But without any proof to the contrary, Belikon announced that Finran was to blame. Less than a year later, Belikon announced his engagement to my mother. By all accounts, she was surprised, given that she’d never even met the king, but Belikon made it clear that marrying him was the only way for her to prove that she wasn’t a traitor to the crown, too. Plus, Finran had been very wealthy, and Belikon needed money to pay for the conflict breaking out with Sanasroth. Belikon informed my mother via royal herald that she was to report to the Winter Palace, and she was to bring all of her assets and money with her. Rusarius still talks of how furious the king was when she arrived with Kingfisher in tow.”
“He didn’t consider a son from a previous marriage an asset?”
Layne’s laughter sounded flat. “Not even a little. He wanted a son of his own, and as quickly as possible. He didn’t want Kingfisher as his heir by marriage, but it took a long time for my mother to fall pregnant again. Fae children are a rare gift. Most couples are lucky if they have even one child. Belikon thought Fisher had ‘used my mother up.’ He actually said that once. He still insists that when our mother did fall pregnant with me a long time later, it was Fisher’s fault that she wasn’t strong enough to produce another male heir. His fault that she wasn’t strong enough to survive the delivery, either. Her pregnancy with me was difficult. None of her healers were surprised when she passed shortly after I came into the world, but Belikon…” Everlayne shook her head sadly. “According to the king, everything’s always Fisher’s fault. But our mother’s death wasn’t because of him. It was because of me.”
“It wasn’t anyone’s fault,” I said. “Women have died in childbirth since the dawn of time. Human or Fae, it makes no difference. The child can never be held accountable.”
Layne had probably heard all of this before. She just nodded, stroking her hands over the blanket she’d placed on the back of my reading chair. “How did you know Fisher wasn’t Belikon’s illegitimate son?” she asked. “He’s had enough affairs over the years.”
That one was easy. “Because, illegitimate or not, no father would hate their own blood the way Belikon hates Fisher.”
“Yes, well…” Layne’s jaw worked as she stared unseeingly down at the blanket. “You’re right about that. Anyway!” She inhaled, straightening as she came back to herself, shedding the heavy topic like it was an oppressive robe. “I’m going to fetch us something for breakfast. When we’re finished eating, we’ll head up to the library.”
She left, and I sat myself down on the edge of my bed, relieved that I was alone at last.
Annorath mor. Annorath mor. Annorath mor.
Kingfisher had told me to listen to the Quicksilver, and I’d heard it. I couldn’t stop hearing it. The voices in my head were gone. They’d vanished as soon as the quicksilver had stilled, but that phrase. I kept repeating it to myself, over and over again, as if it were the answer to a question I didn’t know how to ask.
Annorath mor. Annorath mor. Annorath mor.
Kingfisher had responded when I’d said it out loud. He’d been wide- eyed. Shocked, even. He hadn’t explained what it meant, though, and the not knowing was driving me crazy.
I dug my fingernails into my palm, applying pressure to the rhythm of those words as they cycled around in my head. It felt almost as if they had replaced the beating of my heart. My trance only ended when a loud knock at the door sundered the silence.
At some point, Layne would accept that I just didn’t eat that much, and she’d stop loading up my plate with so much food. She’d slip an apple into her pocket for me or something. That way, even if her breakfast plate were
full, she’d still have a spare hand free to open the door with. I grumbled to myself as I crossed the room and twisted the handle, pulling the door so that it swung open as I headed back to the bed and dropped down to my knees, searching underneath it for the shoes I’d kicked off last night.
“Admittedly, I do enjoy when a female kneels for me, but in this
particular case…”
I was reaching, arm stretched out, fingers catching on the heel of my shoe underneath the bed, but the moment I heard that voice, I went stiff as a board. Blood rushed to my cheeks as I drew back and sat up on my heels, glowering up at Kingfisher. “You aren’t welcome in here,” I informed him.
His lip was even angrier and redder than it had been yesterday afternoon. In his hands, he carried a large wooden board stacked high with all kinds of cured meats, cheeses, fruit, and at least three different kinds of bread. He wore an inordinate amount of armor—twice as much as usual. His shins were covered by black greaves embellished with golden rising suns, their rays spearing upward toward his knees. Matching vambraces covered his wrists. He looked down at himself, his mouth twisting into a cold smile when he caught me looking at his upgraded armor.
“You like it?” he purred. “I figured some extra protection was in order this morning since you’re now given to hurling yourself at me like some kind of rabid feline.”
“Cats scratch,” I said flatly. “I came this close to knocking you on your ass.”
“In your fucking dreams, human.” He kicked the door closed, strode into the bedroom, set down the pile of food on the small table, and then went to all three of the tall windows in the room, ripping the curtains closed at each as he went.
I got up and followed after him, drawing the curtains open again. “What are you doing?”
“I’m hungover,” he announced. “The sun is trying to crack my skull open, which is making me very unfriendly. But please. Feel free to open the curtains.”
How did you even kill a Fae warrior? Did you need a special weapon? Could they be poisoned? I made a mental note to ask Rusarius—the old librarian was bound to know. Scowling deeply, I went back and revisited the windows, drawing the curtains closed again. “I meant, what are you doing here? In my room?”
“I’m not allowed to eat in the library, apparently. And, unlike Layne, I don’t have my own assigned wing of the court. After seeing how nice your rooms were yesterday, I figured I’d come and eat breakfast here. Don’t worry. I brought you some cheese.” He picked up one of the small plates that he’d balanced on his overflowing board and planted a massive wedge of hard cheese down on it. In fairness, it looked like good cheese, but the way he shoved the plate at me across the table made my blood boil.
The prick started eating like his life depended on it.
“Rusarius said no cooked food in the library. All of this is cold. Take it and go and bother him.”
Kingfisher paid me no heed. “Fisher!”
He winced, hunkering down into his seat. “Today has rules, human.” He started counting them off on his hand, a finger for each. “Do not shout. Do not throw any punches. Do not make me do any physical exercise. Do not
—”
“Your lip’s bleeding everywhere again,” I told him.
His tongue darted out between his lips, his blood staining the very tip of it, and I found myself being flashed by a pair of wickedly sharp canines. The sight of them sent a thrill of panic-tinged intrigue through me. Heat rose up from the pit of my stomach, my blood rushing to my cheeks.
Kingfisher’s gaze snapped up, singling in on mine. “Careful, human. We Fae have an excellent sense of smell. You’d be amazed what we can scent floating on the air.”
“I—I wasn’t doing anything. I didn’t—” Oh, gods. I was going to die of embarrassment. The moment had been fleeting. I hadn’t even meant to think it. I despised Kingfisher. I was not attracted to him. I was not thinking about his tongue or his teeth…
He set down the piece of bread and meat he was holding and sat back in his chair very slowly. His expression was suddenly serious, his eyes alert, his voice low and smooth as velvet. “You’re making it worse.”
Swallowing down the urge to scream, I sat down at the table and forced myself to hold his unbearably smug gaze. Change the subject. Change the subject. Change the subject. “Why haven’t you gotten your lip taken care of, anyway? They can heal it. A small cut like that? It’d be gone with one tiny touch—”
Kingfisher’s eyes narrowed, still boring into me. “I was going to get it seen to after this, but now I’ve decided against it.”
“Hah. Right.” I ripped a piece of cheese from the block he’d slapped on the plate for me and shoved it into my mouth.
“Yes. Just now, actually. I’m going to keep it as a souvenir.”
“A reminder of the time a weak human girl landed a hit on you and drew blood? You want your friends knowing about that?” Fuck, this cheese had the consistency of glue. I kept chewing, but my mouth was so dry that it was turning into a thick paste.
“I like being surprised,” Fisher said, spinning his fork over in his hand. “I’m also a fan of aggressive foreplay. It’ll be a fun reminder.”
I breathed in sharply, inhaling cheese. Choking and spluttering, I tried desperately to get rid of it, but it wasn’t going anywhere.
Kingfisher leaned forward, his tongue running over his teeth again. He smiled suggestively as he said, “Swallow.”
“What in the five hells is going on here? Are you trying to kill the poor girl?”
Layne came out of nowhere, a cloud of sweet perfume and saffron- colored silks. She set down the plates that she’d collected from the kitchens, then began rubbing her hand soothingly against my back. “What did you do to her?” She glowered hotly at Fisher.
“For the love of every god that has ever been or ever will be, could you please lower your voice?” he groaned.
“She’s choking to death, Fisher. Did you poison her? Breathe, Saeris. That’s it. Slowly in. Slowly out.” She demonstrated breathing in through her nose. “And—and why does it smell like a brothel in here? If you’re going to spend the night out whoring and drinking, the least you could do is wash the smell of sex off you before showing up for breakfast.”
Kingfisher looked like he was about to explode with laughter. The monstrous bastard was enjoying this. I braced for the cruel jibe—he was seconds from telling his sister that whatever she could smell was courtesy of me and not him. But when he spoke, he took me by surprise. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Layne. That was inconsiderate. I’ll take my breakfast and leave you both in peace. If Ren shows up, let him know I’m down in the bathhouse, washing away my sins. I’ll see you this afternoon, Osha. Be ready to practice more of what we learned yesterday.”
Wait…
I watched him go.
He took the fall for me. Why would he do that?
Would Layne know that I was the source of the scent of arousal in the air the moment he left? I didn’t think so. I wasn’t thinking about Fisher’s tongue trailing up my neck anymore. I was thinking about him forcing me to hold that quicksilver in my palm again and how much it was going to hurt.
Annorath mor! Annorath mor! Annorath mor!
The memory of those voices in my head echoed like a war chant.
Fisher had saved me from embarrassment, but that meant little. Not when I was faced with the promise of an afternoon working with the quicksilver. He really was crazy if he thought I would willingly subject myself to that again.
 |
The library’s temperature was unbearable, even colder than usual. Condensation dripped down the inside of the windows, and every spoken word sent clouds of fog billowing into the air.
“It’ll snow tonight,” Rusarius announced, frowning up at the heavy blanket of clouds visible through the domed glass ceiling.
Snow.
The thought of witnessing it fall from the sky with my own eyes was thrilling, but there were more pressing matters to address. I had made my decision, and I was sticking to it.
“I want to learn more about the quicksilver today,” I said. “I know you planned to cover more about Sanasroth and the courts, but the King only gave us a week before Kingfisher has to leave. It’s been three days already, and I haven’t learned much about the pathways.”
“Knowledge of the courts will be essential when you start traveling outside of Yvelia. I believe this is important to cover,” Layne said, placing a hand on the daunting stack of books she had prepared for the day.
“I don’t know. Maybe Saeris is right.” Rusarius’s white hair puffed out like a cloud in every direction. “If we can’t prove Saeris is capable of activating the quicksilver, there could be trouble for Kingfisher. He’s the one who brought her here. The King gave him a week to teach our new friend how to navigate this. If she fails…”
“He’ll punish Fisher,” Layne said.
“And maybe Saeris too?” Rusarius added with a questioning tone.
Layne hesitantly pushed aside her curated stack of books. “All right. Quicksilver it is. If we cover some basics, perhaps Fisher can introduce you to other, lesser alchemical compounds in the forge this afternoon.”
Oh, Fisher wasn’t messing around with lesser alchemical compounds. He had thrown me into the deep end and slapped raw quicksilver in my hand without so much as a by-your-leave. I decided not to mention that little detail. “I was wondering if there were any references on how the Alchemists used the pathways to travel from one place to another, specifically how they ensured they arrived where they intended,” I clarified. “Was there a panel, an incantation, or…?” I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Did they have to say the name of the place out loud or something?”
Rusarius wiped his nose on the sleeve of his robe and blew on the hot tea he had made somewhere in the back of the library. “Oh no, I doubt we have any books or parchments on that,” he said.
“Oh.” Disappointment gnawed at my insides.
“No, that part was easy. It was common knowledge how they traveled from one point to another.” Rusarius sipped his tea and yelped, fanning his mouth. “Gods, patience has never been my strong suit. You’d think I’d have learned to wait by now—”
“How did they do it, then? If it was common knowledge?”
“Ah, yes. Well, they simply fixed their intentions on the place. They focused very hard, apparently. If they wanted to explore somewhere new, they’d think of the kind of place they wanted to go to. If they sought a location rich in iron ore, for example, they’d concentrate on iron ore and let the quicksilver guide them to a place abundant in it. It was a simple system, though flawed. There were instances where an Alchemist thought of the type of place they wanted to go and stepped into a pool, never to be seen again. A group once searched for hydrogen. That busybody Archivist Clements speculated that the quicksilver delivered them straight into the center of a star somewhere. Utter nonsense, if you ask me…”
I stopped listening. I wasn’t trying to go somewhere new; I wanted to go home. And all I had to do was think of Zilvaren before stepping into the pool? That seemed too easy, surely? But Rusarius seemed convinced.
“And where’s the pool here in the Winter Palace? Belikon has one, right?” I asked, interrupting the old male, who was still recounting examples of Alchemists who had vanished while exploring unknown destinations.
“Oh, of course! Our pool is the largest ever documented!” the librarian declared, beaming as if he were personally responsible for its creation. “Belikon had it crafted to transport entire armies if needed. It’s located deep beneath us, in the bowels of the palace. Nearly every tunnel you encounter will lead you there. Though I once spent five days trying to figure out…”
I did a commendable job of feigning interest as Rusarius chattered on, even if I did say so myself. The plans that were rapidly forming in my head demanded all of my attention, but I nodded and laughed at the librarian’s tale, engaging just enough to convince Layne that I was listening to him, too.
The next three hours dragged by, and I did my best not to fidget.
I took notes about the Sanasrothian pool, located at the center of their rival court’s council halls. I recorded the locations of two other pools in two other courts, as well. The Gilarien, the Fae in the mountains to the east, kept their pool in a hall perched upon the highest peak of their domain. It was reported that the pool belonging to the Lìssians, the seafaring Fae who lived upon a southern island, was located deep in a sea cave, and was almost as large as the Yvelian pool, though that had never been confirmed, the Lìssians regarding it as their most sacred place of worship.
I took all of this in, my mind buzzing the whole time.
All I had to do was fix my mind on the Silver City. I had to reach out to the quicksilver, convince it to wake, and then I’d be home. It would be so simple.
But there was something I had to do first.
