Chapter 25

W hen I stepped into the workshop, I drew in a breath of surprise.

Tait was the Prince's shadow-spinner, and whilst I had no idea how, exactly, shadows were spun, I was pretty sure he didn't need the vast array of items I could see.

There were urns and mirrors and statues, clocks and candlesticks, bottles and jars filled with powders and liquids, items I didn't even recognize, all covering every available surface. The room was filled with tables, each piled high with objects, and shelves lined the walls, all just as full.

Even the ceiling was covered in items, bells and tankards and decorative wooden ornaments hanging from the rafters.

In the center of the room was a machine made from black metal that looked a little like a sewing spindle. Surrounding it were needles that looked to be made of bone and silver, and a pile of metal rods. Rods that would become staffs, I realized.

I stepped toward the spinning machine, and Tait coughed. “We would have to trade secrets, if you wanted to look at that,” he said cheerfully.

I looked at him, a flurry of excitement blossoming in my chest. “You would tell me how you spin shadows?”

“Would you tell me how you work gold?”

I hesitated. Before I could work out an answer, the Prince spoke, putting a stop to the fledgling conversation. “We are looking for tools this gold-giver might need to perform her work,” he said.

“Ah, yes. I should have something somewhere.” Tait began to dig around in a pile of stuff on a table near the back, sheets of glimmering blue fabric and streams of fine metal chain falling to the floor as he rummaged.

“Why do you have all this?” I asked, still staring.

Tait shrugged. “Well, mostly, I believe in fate. And the fates have told me I need to be prepared.”

“Prepared?”

“Well technically, it’s Maz,” his cheeks colored a little and he looked at the Prince. “Sorry, Your Highness , here who needs to be prepared, not me. But with the Queen and her—.”

Frima stood up, cutting him off. “Tools, Tait. Find the tools, and stop talking.”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

He came over a moment later with a heavy leather roll. When I unwound it, I saw a toolkit almost as good as my own at the palace, scalpels and tweezers and fine engraving points all in amazing condition.

“Where in the name of Odin did you get this?”

“I paid a high price to have it smuggled in,” he said proudly. “I have kits for all fae magic.”

“But you are enemies with all other fae. Why would you pay for this?” I held up the roll, frowning.

“Know your enemy, girl. That’s what they say.” He touched the side of his nose knowingly.

“I appreciate your help, Tait,” the Prince said, moving to the door.

“Oh, Your Highness, could I, erm, have a word in private, before you go?” The man looked awkwardly between me and Frima.

The female nodded at me, then at the door. “We’ll wait outside.”

I held up the tool roll. “Thank you,” I said.

“You’re welcome. Whatever you need them for, I hope they are adequate.”

We left the Prince in the workshop, Frima’s horse snickering happily when she saw her master, and Jarl eyeing me warily. I looked again at the tool roll. There was a familiarity in it, a soothing feeling from its presence I hadn’t known I’d missed.

“You’re lucky, you know.” Frima’s words broke me from my thoughts and blinked at her as she stroked her horse’s snout.

“Lucky?”

“Svangrior has a temper on him. But so does Arthur.” I held her gaze. “You and your friends could have been killed a number of times last night. And then again this morning, if Maz found out.”

“You expected me to do nothing? Accept my kidnapping and stay quiet like a good little girl?”

“No. I’d have done exactly the same thing.”

My brows shot up. “You would?”

“Uh-huh. Only I’d have actually escaped.” She gave me a grin, then turned to the horse, pushing her face into its neck. The door banged behind us and the Prince strode out, his eyes angry and dark. A thrill of something that was either fear or admiration swirled through me, and I gritted my teeth in annoyance.

“Frima, take her back. I have to check on something.”

Frima nodded.

“But—” I started.

“Get ready for the ball. I will collect you in a few hours.” He launched himself onto his horse in one smooth movement and took off down the cobbles at a gallop.

* * *

The ride back on Frima’s horse was as exhilarating as the first one had been, minus the pressure of a huge male against my body.

I fell into the horse’s rhythm faster the second time and found myself not wanting the race through the creepy trees to end. When we were flying through air, eating up the ground, I felt free. I wasn’t forced to stand still or to stay within walls when I was on the horse’s powerful back. I could go anywhere, feel the air flowing around me. It was the closest thing to freedom I had ever felt.

“You could make a good rider,” Frima said when we dismounted, handing the reins over to the stablehand when he hurried over. “See you soon, Idunn,” she said, kissing the horse on the end of her nose.

“Why are you being nice to me?” I asked her suspiciously.

“I’m not being nice. I’m stating a fact.”

“Huh.”

We began walking through the stables, back to the palace. “I heard you say thank you for the first time today.”

“Well, I had something to be grateful for. Tait was deserving of my gratitude.”

She gave me an assessing look. “Where would you have gone?”

“What?”

“If you’d made it out last night. Where would you have gone?”

“Why would I tell you?” I said defensively. Truth was, I had no idea where we would have gone. Finding a way to the root-river was about all I had as a plan.

“Three gold-givers , alone in the Shadow Court, with no weapons or magic.” She shook her head. “You got a death wish?”

I glared at her as she held the door open for me. “I’m under the impression that staying here will lead to the same conclusion.”

“I don’t know why Maz has wanted you for so long, but I’m sure as Odin it wasn’t just to kill you.” She glanced down at the tool roll in my hands and I could see how much she wanted to ask me about it.

I held it up. “And when I’m done with this? When I’ve performed my tasks for his highness like a good little human? Then what?”

She looked between my face and the roll. “Maz isn’t who you think he is.” Her voice was low, and void of her usual mocking tone.

“The whole of Yggdrasil knows who the Prince is,” I said.

“The whole of Yggdrasil is a fucking mess.”

“And that makes him a good guy?”

“It makes a woman who believes what she’s told, over what she can see, an idiot.” She turned away before I could answer. I followed her in silence, her words sinking through my doubts.

The Prince hadn’t stacked up so far with any of the stories. I couldn’t deny that.

I hadn’t been lashed or beaten once. Nor had my friends, or even my maid. He appeared to be polite to his thralls, and his warriors loved him. And more than once, he had referred to his own integrity as something valuable to him. Even if his beliefs were fucked up, integrity was something sorely lacking in the gold-fae I had experience with.

And then there was his face. It didn’t match up with the arrogant, take-what-he-pleased, fae royalty the rumors had projected. Fierce anger and determination dominated his expressions, filled his bright eyes.

Until he did that seduction thing, and then all my doubts bubbled into something entirely different.

I shook my head, trying to clear the memory of being on the horse with him. Of what I was sure I had felt as I slid down his hard body.

We had nearly reached the raven room and I gripped the tool roll tighter. I would concentrate on getting through this ball, and then solving the mystery of the statues. Whatever was down there would bring me closer to finding out what was in store for me, and then hopefully what I could do next.