Chapter 15

15

D orian Jade left me little choice when it came to dining with his people.

In fact, the harsh edges of his cloying and somewhat choking charm seemed to grow sharper as he led the way through the army of tents toward a larger than normal bonfire at its heart.

He stopped to talk to people when they approached, a motley assortment of fae and other creatures who would have been shunned within the city limits of Eahsea.

There, perfection reigned.

The pure-blooded were welcome, and the halflings, as long as they were half human and half fae, were welcome. But other subsets of fae were not permitted in the king’s city.

Here, pixies danced through the air, those who survived the great war. There were nymphs with blush-colored skin like the breast of a dove who lifted their arms in the air and swayed with the wind.

Dryads collected acorns from the trees. There were families and children laughing, though most everyone stopped to stare at me and Noren as we passed. A beautiful picture, yes.

Why did something strike me as wrong?

What was off about the scene and why couldn’t I put my finger on it?

I kept one hand firmly on Noren’s shoulder, feeling the graceful rippling movement of each step, borrowing his strength as my own.

The fae here didn’t appear to be a threat.

They were displaced families who had been driven out of their homes and forced into hiding. Dorian was their savior and he acted every bit the part. He waved magnanimously, he stopped to speak to anyone who approached him and appeared to actively listen to their concerns. He engaged, he took part in the conversations.

And I made sure to reserve my judgment.

After what I’d experienced, it felt much too easy to give in to this idea of a utopia. Too easy because I wanted it badly. The wanting always came easily but the execution fell short. Dreams didn’t come true.

Only nightmares.

“Tavi, please follow me.” Dorian reached back to me but I avoided his outstretched hand.

Another few minutes and he stopped in front of a circle of flames, with small tables and seats set around the embers. The scent of soft pine smoke drifted through the air and I drew in a deep breath.

The pang of homesickness hit me with the force of a sledgehammer. For a moment, I missed my pack with such an intensity I stopped dead in my tracks. The last time I’d seen them all gathered together had been my eighteenth birthday. Right before Uncle Will?—

I shook my head to clear it.

Smoke from the burning wood not only perfumed the air but colored it in shades of navy and violet. And just beyond, with his face partially obscured, sat Onyx with his white hair standing out beacon-bright.

He stood when our eyes made contact and waited for me to round the fire. I stepped into his arms and squeezed him tightly, a hug of homecoming. Absolutely necessary.

“Damn it, I had no idea where you’d gone,” he murmured to me.

We clung to each other.

I shifted to press my cheek to his chest. His heartbeat thrummed through me unsteadily. I blew out a breath and said, “I thought you got away. I wasn't sure whether to be worried or ecstatic.”

“They must have transported me in a separate vehicle. You and Noren probably took up too much room in yours.”

“Your joke is flat,” I muttered.

I pulled back from Onyx to search his face for any kind of bruising or fresh cuts. He looked relatively unharmed but that didn’t mean they’d taken into account his chronic injuries. I’d have to make sure he was fine. No bullshitting, either.

He was prone to downplaying his hurts.

Who wasn’t?

He was pale, thinner, the circles under his eyes darker.

“Where did you go? When they brought you here?” Onyx gripped my face to keep me still but hell, I wasn’t going anywhere.

Not when my hands had finally started to shake, as all the adrenaline finally left my body and made me weak.

“They took me straight to Dorian Jade.” I gestured subtly toward the dark-haired man.

He’d nabbed a seat near a group of yellow-skinned fae, their heads all bent together and their voices a hushed distortion too soft for me to make out over the crackling flames.

“I’ve heard good things about him, but this is the first time I've seen him face to face.” Onyx shifted until our backs were to the fire. “Think I should go over and introduce myself? Make a good impression?”

“I think if you give him enough time, he’ll come over and give you the same welcome spiel I got,” I whispered. “He’s trying to sell us a timeshare.”

And I hated to admit how much I wanted to buy into the fantasy. Tonight would be a chance to observe, to see if the hype he served up was true.

“You two! Come, please.” Dorian’s voice cut across the clearing. “Join us for dinner. It would be our pleasure.”

One of the yellow-skinned fae vacated their spot and approached us with a smile. A snap of her fingers, and a couple of wooden cups appeared in her hands. She held one out to Onyx and the other to me, waiting until we'd both grabbed hold before she bobbed her head.

“Nectar, harvested from nearby honeysuckles,” she told us in a low rumbling voice like a cat’s purr. “This drink is a specialty of my people. We’re from the west,” she continued at my questioning look.

“Your eyes are beautiful.” I nodded in thanks for the drink and took a long sip while she watched.

Cold, sweet liquid caressed the inside of my parched throat. But it was the woman’s pleased grin that truly made the moment special.

“Thank you.” She gestured to her overly large eyes, her pupils multicolored and glittering, more similar to a dragonfly’s wing than anything I’d ever seen. “And the drink?”

Onyx drained his gup before he answered her. “Delicious.” His tongue darted out to catch a stray drop of liquid and I chuckled.

“There are only a few hundred of her people that survived one of the king’s random purges,” Dorian explained when we sidled closer. “The island they inhabit is prime for minerals he uses for weapon production and the transportation system he implemented for the Seelie.”

A weight settled in my chest at his words.

We sat on the fallen logs around Dorian with enough space between us for me to be able to watch his expressions. The yellow-skinned fae woman took her seat again but Dorian gestured to someone in the distance, and another fae holding a tray approached. She bowed her head at me and Onyx before crouching, waiting for us to take the food from her.

Both our plates held the same assortment of delicacies. Meat roasted over the fire which would surely compliment the fresh salad, and a fritter made with some kind of faintly sweet cornmeal. Maybe the acorns I’d seen the dryads harvesting earlier?

I thanked the woman and stalled with my gaze lingering on the hammered silver necklace she wore. My hand automatically lifted to my own identical necklace.

She dipped in a curtsy of acknowledgement before disappearing back into the deepening twilight of the woods.

Anyone who approached had nothing but the best things to say about Dorian, how he’d single-handedly saved them, or a friend, or a family member. They damn near worshiped the man.

The only ones who stayed silent were the servants. They were awfully subdued in comparison to everyone else in the camp. The matching uniforms marked them for their station, and if the clothing wasn’t enough, the silver necklaces banded them together.

Weird .

Especially since I seemed to be the only other person in camp wearing one. Yet I wasn’t a servant.

The honeysuckle nectar went straight to my head and the feast pushed the confines of my belly pleasantly. When was the last time I’d been this warm, or this full? When was the last time I’d had my thirst slaked and listened to conversation without the slender thread of tension pulling certain parts of me tight?

I couldn’t remember.

One of the yellow-skinned fae drew Onyx into a conversation and he laughed, his head tilted back on his neck and his knee pressing against mine. My skin tingled where we touched, and even though I hadn't heard the punchline of the joke, I joined in the giggling.

After the feast, those who mingled around the fire broke out into impromptu singing and several others brought instruments out of nowhere.

Soon, the band struck up a lively chord that practically begged me to move my body.

“This is fantastic!” I called out to one of the fae.

She tapped her bare foot along with the tempo. “It’s like this every night. We stand together because we want a united Faerie!”

My head spinning, I didn’t break away when she placed her hand over mine and linked our fingers together. I felt her pulse inside of me as the music grew louder and brought us together.

“Dorian brought you here for a reason,” the fae woman continued.

My heart swelled. This was fantastic. This was the way it should be. The people here really did stand united for a Faerie free of the king’s bigotry. Would it be so wrong to stand with them?

To believe the way they did, with utter conviction, that peace was possible?

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had such hope surging up from the depths of my being.

No matter who I spoke to, they were of the same mind. They spoke the same words of heart and hope and all kinds of things. They believed in the picture Dorian painted, and the more the night drew on, the easier it was for me to believe it, too.

Someone pressed another cup of nectar into my hand and I gulped it down greedily. The brew added to the sweet weight in my head, and the heavy blanket around my senses was a comfortable pall.

This time when someone grabbed my hand, I leaned into the contact, a little surprised when it turned out to be Onyx.

“Dance with me, Tavi!”

The music was a loud thrum in my blood. This time when my head spun, it was in the most delightful way, like I somehow spiraled right to the top of the wall dividing the kingdoms. I slapped my hand against Onyx's outstretched palm and allowed him to tug me to my feet.

Both of us swayed, so I knew he felt the way I did.

Tipsy.

Light. Free.

Even the pain lessened until I was hardly aware of the old wounds.

Several of the Unseelie clapped for us as we twisted our bodies in a random dance that forced a giggle bubbling out of me.

“I’m a terrible dancer,” I admitted to Onyx loudly.

He shook his head as if it didn’t matter, resting his opposite hand on my waist and drawing me closer. Our bodies twined together in the same rhythm as the beating drums around us.

Soon enough sweat dotted my hairline and plastered my shirt to my skin. My mouth hung open slightly, my eyes closed, my body listening to Onyx.

Maybe I could be happy here.

Onyx let out a whoop of pure joy and tightened his hold, jerking me forward harder until my front pressed to his with no room to breathe between us. This could be good. For me, for him. A place for us to really heal around like-minded people.

With him holding me, spinning us in dizzying circles, I let my mind race and my body arch backward. Dancing and flying were one and the same.

As long as Onyx had me, we were happy. For tonight…I could let myself go.

Maybe everyone had it wrong and Dorian Jade wasn’t the enemy. I liked what he’d done with the camp. And so many people I’d talked to couldn’t all be wrong, could they? They had to make a point.

The bigotry of the royal court had to go.

It had no place in this world anymore. Lines should never be drawn separating fae from fae, person from person. Some of the best people I knew were halflings who shouldn't exist, and some of the worst were those considered pure-blood.

Onyx stopped suddenly and jerked me to him. My chest bumped against his and I laughed breathlessly. His eyes echoed the same heat mingling with my blood, overly bright and a little glassy.

My gaze dropped to his lips as his tongue darted out to lick the lower one. I watched as if in slow motion, found myself leaning forward.

Another dancer staggered into us and sent the three of us tripping dangerously toward the fire, which only resulted in another round of giggles.

Afterward, someone led us to our separate tents and only then did I realize the drop in temperature. I shivered and the sweat froze on my skin. It was much colder here than it was in the Seelie court.

But the tent blocked the worst of the wind.

Alone, I snuggled closer to Noren, his warmth providing the perfect opposition to the chill outside. It seeped in through the seams of the tent but the pallet bed was comfortable enough to allow me a little bit of sleep.

More sleep, I had to admit, than I’d gotten recently, so I counted it as a blessing. The dizziness hadn’t gotten any better, but being here…it helped. It provided a distraction from my own bullshit and gave me something entirely new to think about.

Another path.

I swallowed a chuckle when Noren groaned and rolled over to half squash me, pushing me into wakefulness. My ribs ached in protest but I scooted out of his way and wrapped my arms around his back.

Another path, and it was for me to decide if I wanted to take it or not. That was how I had to consider things now.

My choice.

It felt better to think of things in those terms. It felt less black and white. Less like I was a victim of fate or a casual observer in my own life, destined to pay the consequences for other people's prejudice.

A soft knock on the exterior bones of the tent had me jolting up in bed.

My hair flopped over my face and I hurried to push it back, noting the slight outline of a shadowy figure outside the flaps. Morning already? I felt like I’d just dropped off.

“Yes?” I called out.

“Beg your pardon, Miss.” A slender woman slipped inside, her hair caught somewhere between gold and green in the oddest combination I’d ever seen. She stood and straightened, and the bones of her face gave her away as one of the pure fae. The same silver collar hung heavily around her slender neck. “I’ve been sent to bathe you and help you dress.”

I cleared my throat and pushed at Noren. He yawned right in my face, those curved fangs inches from my nose, before huffing and curling into a tighter ball on the pallet.

“I really don’t need help bathing.”

“Dorian insists. He doesn’t allow anyone to say no to him.”

The woman stepped back and held the flap open to make room for two more fae to enter the tent. Unease suddenly crawled along my spine and I forced it aside to watch them. They were here to help, I told myself.

I clamped my lips tightly together as the three women brought in a small basin. One of them dragged over a table while the third set up a short stool with towels and a change of clothes. I definitely wouldn't mind the new clothes. Mine were covered in filth, sweat, and blood. They were practically cement at this point and crusty enough to crack.

Once they were finished, the two left and the first woman straightened. “Come.” She wiggled her fingers. “We must start the day.”

I shook my head. “This really isn’t necessary.” Suddenly Noren jerked fully awake, causing me to jolt with surprise.

“Please.” She sounded desperate. “Dorian doesn't like to be kept waiting and he especially hates wasting precious daylight hours.”

One of the two women returned carrying two urns of steaming water. Outside, I’d gotten a glimpse of a dark sky paling with the deep pinks of dawn.

“There is no need to fear us. We’re only here to help you, Miss.” She spoke in a soft voice designed to put me at ease.

“Thanks.” I awkwardly stood in front of them and let the blanket drop. I’d slept in my bra and underwear last night. My clothing should really be burned. “What’s your name?”

She ducked her head and her wealth of hair hid her expression. “My name isn’t important.”

“I’ll need to call you something.”

She hesitated a moment before saying shyly, “Elaen, then. Please call me Elaen.”

“Then thank you for helping me, Elaen.” I stood for a moment longer before I forced my arms to relax to my sides. “How are we doing this?”

“Step into the basin and we’ll take care of the rest. Please, there’s no reason for you to be embarrassed. We have complete privacy here.”

With no other choice and the waiting servant still holding the two steaming urns, I peeled off my bra and undies and stepped over the lip of the bowl, absolutely naked. Noren turned his back to allow us a small bit of privacy but I wouldn’t dream of letting him leave me alone.

Feeling awkward, I attempted small talk as a distraction. “How long have you been living at camp, Elaen?”

Elaen started, and when she reached down for a sponge, her fingers trembled. She drew it across the skin of my arm. “I’m a recent addition. I was brought here six months ago.”

“Do you like it so far?” I asked.

Elaen didn’t answer. She only poured more water over my skin and alternated between that and the sponge.

The night’s chill hadn’t reached the inside of the tent yet and it was easier to relax under the heat of the water. The whole bath thing, though…that was new.

“A few people last night wanted to get me and my friend to stay,” I told her.

Elaen swallowed. I watched her throat bob.” Yes, they would.”

The sense of unease grew, knotting inside of me. “Dorian spoke of an alliance between us,” I continued. That seemed the best way to put it. “He certainly has big dreams for the future.”

“Miss.” Elaen stopped and gripped my hand so forcefully my eyes widened under a flash of pain. At once, my arm began to throb. “You have to run.”

I went cold all over.

She shook her head and the spell broke as she continued to scrub me down.

“There are others like me,” Elaen added, “who have been brought to camp. They’ve been in service much longer.”

“It’s the second time you’ve said it that way. Brought here. You didn’t come on your own? Looking for a better future?” I asked, grasping at straws trying to find an answer to why I felt so uneasy.

“You mustn’t ask such questions.” Now her voice shook too.

It was my turn to stop and reach for her before she lifted my foot to soap my ankles. “Elaen, please. What’s going on?”

Her eyes were filled with terror. “Just let me wash you, Miss.”

“Why did you tell me to run?”

“You will never be safe as long as you wear the necklace,” Elaen whispered. “But you’re not one of us. He won’t automatically toss you aside.”

My mind struggled to make sense of it. Elaen continued her washing and I dropped the subject, mulling it over again and again.

What was I missing?

There was a piece somewhere I’d tossed aside, not making the connection.

But Elaen, the other servers last night, the collar around my own neck?—

I stumbled backward and dirty water splashed everywhere. Elaen was pure-blood fae. I knew it, of course. And enslaved. It was clear in her mannerisms. So were the women last night.

Dorian Jade kept pure-bloods in his employ against their will and forced them to take care of him and his people.

The revelation crashed down on me ocean-wave style until it blotted out every other thought. My gaze became unfocused, my heart lurched into my sternum, and the thundering in my ears was louder than the sound of my breathing.

Dorian wasn’t interested in equality. He was interested in conquering, and he stepped on the backs of the enslaved pure-bloods to get there.