Chapter 27

C ole used her in that moment, and afterwards, as she lay in the rumpled sheets, she wondered how long it had been since he had made her feel truly content. As always, her body was satiated, but her mind was restless, a flurry of thoughts and impressions, too ephemeral to pin down. The only images she could see clearly were that of the tree, the pendant, and Tana the Blade trapped inside.

She sat up and winced. The bites on her shoulder stung, and at once a maid was by her side, dabbing an ointment on that took away the fire but left an ache inside. A servant attended to Cole as well, and as he took a glass of wine, his face was grim.

"The Stones are against me," he said, as though they were already halfway through a conversation. "Sten has made that perfectly clear. And with the Stones go the Skies." He looked at her over the rim of his glass, at the maid brushing her hair so that it shone ebony black in the candlelight. "Are you not concerned?"

"Anything that concerns you, concerns me."

Her tone was reassuring, and he gave her an abstracted smile. It was true she was worried, but not about the same thing that worried Cole. If what Alena had said was true, that the kingdoms had an influence on Earth, then a fight between the Skies, Stones and Swords could only spell disaster for her world, the world that was growing more distant and dimmer with every passing day. Every time Cole took her, she lost something. She was aware of it, a gnawing absence, but she couldn't recall that which she had already forgotten.

The maid brought her a robe, and she slipped it on as she rose from the bed to use the bathroom Cole had conjured especially for her. When she returned, she paused by the mirror and stroked a finger along the carved frame. It showed a cityscape, somewhere alive and vibrant, with tall buildings plastered with signs in a language she couldn't understand.

"Hong Kong," Cole said. "When I'm the Sword, we'll go there. We'll go everywhere. Nowhere will be forbidden to us, there will be no limits."

"Will you show me …" she wanted to say home, but here was her home, wasn't it? "Show me where you found me?"

The mirror clouded and then came a picture, foggy and indistinct at first and then crystal clear. It was an unremarkable street, old houses with weather-beaten facades, dry weeds poking through cracks in the pavement. It looked untidy and unloved, as though those living there had given up a long time ago.

"I don't remember it." She tried to still the rising surge of panic within her. She should know this place, but she didn't.

"You don't remember it like this. It's been years there since I found you."

"Years?"

"Years and years."

"Oh."

So, time had moved on. She moved away from the mirror and sank onto the bed. She'd thought that by looking in, she would find something within herself, and yet she still felt empty and lost.

"Are you sad, my darling?" he said tenderly, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

"No. Just fearful for you in the tournament." That was partly true, at least.

"Don't worry for me." His voice had a tinge of impatience to it and she flinched away, like a dog used to being struck, ready to protect itself from harm. "And don't worry about yourself, either. Once the games are done, I will be One, Ashe will be Two … and you will be my Three." His tone took on a mischievous lilt, and she turned to him, eager to see him light and happy once more. "Not trapped in a pendant but trapped in my heart."

He took her in his arms and kissed her, and again she felt … nothing. If he had meant his words to soothe her, they just made her feel claustrophobic.

He fell asleep beside her as he did everything, impatiently and with all his fervour. She lay awake, watching the fire crackling, and the shadows of the maids as they flitted noiselessly about the room. Sten's parting words still echoed in her ears, and she couldn't help turning them over in her mind. ‘Ashe won't want Cole's cast-offs.'

What would happen to her if Cole lost?

Cole stirred, and she started, wondering if her thoughts had somehow pierced the fabric of his dreams. He settled quickly with his back to her, and she lay thinking. Ashe wouldn't keep her, she knew that. He'd send her back to … wherever she had come from. And then what? She'd be alone, adrift, in a world she could only vaguely remember. The beauty she had come accustomed to, which breathed from every weathered stone and every fragrant flower, every elegant bearing, every ripple of satin cloth as light and shimmering as a butterfly wing, would transform into weather-beaten paint and overgrown cracks in a sidewalk. She wanted to be fae. She wanted to be here. She just wasn't sure if she wanted Cole. If truth be told, she wasn't sure how long she had before Cole didn't want her anymore, either. She had to secure a place of safety that didn't rely on the vagaries of fae whims, but how could she do that if she weren't fae?

She gnawed at a fingernail, the uncertainty of her precarious position making her stomach churn. She sat up and beckoned, whispering to the maid that she'd like something to help her sleep. The maid drew a rose from her pocket, a delicate shade of lilac that appeared dusty brown in the firelight. Ember inhaled the sweet fragrance and lay back against the pillows. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she slept.