Chapter 12

C rocodile! was Ember's first alarmed thought as a scaly head broke the surface, and she scrabbled back from the bank, ready to run. However, it wasn't a crocodile, or any kind of creature at all, but an older woman in a long green dress, her silver hair twisted into a smooth chignon and fixed with sparkling emerald pins, stepping lightly out of the water onto the mossy bank of the pond. She gave herself a shake like a dog, and water flew in all directions, but when she was done, she was perfectly dry.

She greeted Ember with a warm smile, her eyes a startling blue. "Good morning, my dear," although twilight was everywhere, and it could have been high noon or midnight—how did she know? "My name is Alena."

"Hello. I'm Ember. I hope I wasn't intruding. It's so nice here."

"It's by far the finest place in the castle to think," said Alena. "Although the fae haven't discovered that particular pleasure yet. When they do, look out! They'll all be in here, thinking, thinking, thinking, wringing as much joy from it as they can."

"They do like to enjoy themselves," Ember agreed.

Alena regarded Ember closely. "I haven't seen anyone with human in them for years. Forgive me for staring. You have a certain fragile quality. It's very appealing. It makes one want to break you just to see what would happen. Would you shatter like a porcelain plate?"

Ember wasn't sure she quite liked this line of questioning. "No. If I died, I'd just stop and never move again. I wouldn't break into bits or anything."

"Curious," said Alena, pulling up her skirts and settling on the grass next to Ember, a surprisingly limber move for such an elderly person. "When fae vanish from this plane, our energy dissipates into the universe to be used by others. It's all very elegant."

"I suppose that's like us too," said Ember, wondering how to get off this macabre topic before Alena suddenly got ideas. Like Cole, she didn't appear to be very safe . Ember didn't want to be her porcelain plate. "We decompose when we die, and our bodies feed the soil and the … worms and things." Gross. "Some people think our souls go to heaven. Other people think our souls are reborn again. And others think nothing happens, that we just wink out and are gone. Nobody knows for sure."

"Somebody knows," said Alena. "They're just not telling the rest of you. Which means it's probably something ghastly. Poor little humans."

There was silence as Ember cast around desperately for something else to say. "It's so beautiful here. I'd like to paint it."

Alena pointed. There behind her, a fae in a uniform similar to Lily's was just setting up an easel with a stool and a table covered with paints and brushes, cloths, and tools. Ember's eyes widened in pleased surprise.

"Thank you!" she called to the servant, who jerked back, startled, and abruptly vanished between the trees. "I think I might try to paint the columns. I think they're fascinating."

"Well, you would," Alena said. "A link to one's past is always fascinating."

Ember frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Come," said Alena, and smoothly rose to her feet. "Leave that," she added, as Ember moved toward the easel, intending to take it with them. "Someone will bring it." And, when they walked through the forest and came to the area where the columns stood, it didn't altogether surprise Ember to see her easel already set up, the rest of the art equipment alongside.

"These are the kingdoms of Esha," Alena said, motioning to each column with a wave of her hand. "Skies, represented by wings, Seeds, with the fern frond, Stones, the mountain peak, Sands, with their drops of precious water." She pointed to the heap of rubble. "And of course, the Shields. Destroyed in a civil war long ago, instigated by …" she waved an all-encompassing hand to take in the forest and the castle, "… the Swords."

Ember gazed at the columns with fresh respect. The monuments seemed taller and more majestic now that she knew what they stood for.

"You'll see the rulers of all the kingdoms at the tournament," said Alena. "They'll all want to play with you. Be careful, little dolly."

Ember frowned at that, and Alena laughed.

"Why do only the Swords have a tournament?"

"Because the Swords wield greater power than any of the others and must be kept in check. Only one may rule and the other must be confined. When the Shields lost the war, all the kingdoms knew what jeopardy they faced if the Swords were allowed to run unchecked." After a pause, she added, "The tournament has become a tradition, an event of pomp and ceremony, feasts and celebration. The ordinary fae seem to have forgotten that it's a matter of survival. The tournament keeps the Swords in balance. It would be a disaster for all of Esha if anything were to disturb that."

Ember nodded, and Alena smiled and chucked her under the chin as if she were a mischievous little kitten. "I enjoy talking with you. Everyone else thinks they know everything, and only you fully admit you know nothing."

And with that, she dissolved , was the only way Ember could describe it, as if she were a puddle of rain drying in the sun, the molecules of her becoming transparent and gaseous, and then vanishing altogether. Ember stared at the space where Alena had been for a full minute, and then, shaking her head in wonder, moved to the easel, and inspected the paints.

She lost herself in her work for a long stretch of time, but because of the unchanging light, had no idea how long she'd been there. Certainly many hours, she thought, when she eventually came back to herself, wincing at the stiffness in her shoulders and neck. She'd only been able to paint at home in snatches when Bruno was out of the house. He thought of her painting as stupid and frivolous, although he certainly didn't mind spending the money when she sold a piece online.

In her painting, the weathered columns of the present had transformed into foreboding edifices, cleared of lichen and aged marks. Instead of rubble, she had brought the column of the Kingdom of Shields back to life, repairing the broken stones and placing it where it would have stood when it was first built. She wasn't sure what the Shields symbol would have been; there was no clue on the fallen stones, and so she improvised, etching a shadowed shield with a glossy pine tree in the centre. She wasn't sure what had inspired a pine in this leafy tropical jungle, but it felt right to her.

She added another brushstroke and then, unsure if the canvas would be tidied away with all her painting equipment, tucked it out of sight behind the fallen stones to work on later.

Leaving the easel, she returned through the forest, found her shoes and slipped them on. Her stomach rumbled, and she thought back to the crepe pancakes that she hadn't eaten that morning with a wistful longing. She was just wondering if she should call out for a servant to show her where to go, when a little golden light zipped through the trees and came to a stop in front of her, hovering in the air. She tentatively reached out to touch it, wondering as she did so if that was the wisest thing to do—it might zap her with a bolt of electricity or something—but it darted back out of her reach and hovered again, plainly waiting for something.

"Could you show me to my room?" she said finally, and the little light bobbed up and down as if happy she had finally made a decision. It moved off between the trees and she followed it out into the hallways.

She had become accustomed to seeing the castle crowded with fae all carefully avoiding her eye, and it was disconcerting to find that the hall was empty. Her footsteps echoed in the silence, and then came a strange sound, a regular pulsing beat that made her spin, looking for the source. It turned out to be coming from overhead; a young fae flying up the hall, the percussion of air moving through his silver tipped feathers, amplified by the soaring ceiling, stone floors, and empty panelled walls. The fae must have seen her, but he didn't acknowledge her and soon rounded a corner, leaving her alone again.

She followed the glowing guide without further incident, and it zipped away as soon as she opened the door to her room. Lily was waiting for her, a tray of food on a low table by the window. Ember headed immediately for the food, but the maid took one horrified glance at her, and insisted she have a shower first to clean the paint off her hands and arms.

The shower was refreshing, and she was positively famished by the time she was done. When she emerged, Lily showed her a shimmering pink dress laid out on the bed, with a set of lacy underwear to match and a pair of pink high heels. There was a velvet box too, and when she opened it, she found a gorgeous necklace cast from hundreds of little gold links, interspersed with sparkling diamonds. With it was a handwritten note:

Dearest Ember, please join me this evening for dinner.

Cole.