36. Down Here, It’s Better…

Chapter 36

Down Here, It’s Better…

I ’m not sure how long I wandered the halls before Kai found me. I was happy to see her, but my smile faded as I noticed her annoyance.

“There you are,” she said, her words curt.

“Here I am,” I said, spreading my palms out as if revealing myself.

“You are never where you ought to be.” I had to smile—truer words had never been spoken. “We need to get you ready. Come now, or you will surely be late to meet with the high lord.”

“Already?”

“Come,” she ordered, then turned on her heel. I followed.

Mercifully, the villa was empty when we entered. That was the second time in less than a day that I’d been grateful for my companions’ absence. I couldn’t wait to get back to the palace, away from this madness, back to normal—if my life could ever be called such a thing.

Clothing awaited me on Thaddeus’ bed, beautiful as always. First was a high-waisted dusty-pink maxi skirt that hugged my curves, then cascaded freely down. The fabric was layered, but sheer, showing my silhouetted frame beneath. Should it have shown any more detail, I would have refused to wear it.

The soft green-blue top reminded me of the colors I’d seen in the void, but this was its barely discernible counterpart. It was patterned with small, delicate petals, and flirted just above the skirt’s waist. A slight lift of my arms revealed a hint of midriff.

The pink diamond was resting on my wrist once more as a bracelet, and exquisitely beaded sandals hid beneath the flowing fabric of the skirt.

Kai swept my hair up in a stunning crisscrossing cornet made of various braids.

She fussed with my eyelashes, put a light-pink gloss on my lips, then stepped away, assessing. Cocking her head to the side, she looked around her, then stepped out of the bathroom, coming back with delicate white and pink flowers, and wove them into my hair, accentuating the braids beautifully.

“Finished,” she declared with pride in her voice.

“That’s it?”

She scowled.

“Sorry. That’s not what I meant. Normally, I’m plastered in makeup, but it barely looks like I’m wearing any.”

“This is a lunch, not a formal dinner. Besides, I think it suits you more, no?”

I took in my reflection, smiling softly at the generous compliment she’d given me, whether she realized it or not.

“I do,” I said, then spun around and embraced her. “Thank you, Kai. For everything,” I whispered, realizing that this might be our final goodbye.

After a heartbeat, she wrapped her gangly arms around me.

A knock at the door had her releasing me and turning away. I followed her back through the suite, finding Artton at the threshold.

“Are you ready, Nyleeria?” he asked.

I looked toward Kai, and she nodded in confirmation.

“Be well, Kai,” I said.

Her features softened, and she offered me a small smile. “And you, Nyleeria.”

I trailed Artton into the hallway, where he held out a hand to me.

“We’re valenning?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t we just do it from the suite?”

A tug of a smile. “It’s warded from such things, as a form of protection.”

“Oh.”

Artton valenned us atop the clearest water I’d ever seen—which was the only detail I registered before I began to fall, a scream leaving me. It took me a heartbeat to realize that I wasn’t actually falling, but standing safe and sound. There was…not ground beneath us, but some sort of invisible surface, like glass on top of the water.

Artton gave me a wry smile, then vanished. Caius chuckled from behind me, and I turned to face him, still wary of my footing.

In the distance, I could see the sandy beach that Endymion and I had visited the previous evening.

The water’s clarity, combined with the stark white sand several feet below, allowed the sunlight to dance across it in contorted square-like patterns, as if relishing its new form. Our presence didn’t appear to disturb the surface; in fact, only our shadows gave us away.

Looking around, I noted the water’s never-ending expanse, which looked as if it fell off the horizon.

“This isn’t a lake.”

“It’s not,” Caius confirmed.

“What is it?”

“It’s a sea. The Clarian Sea, to be exact. Clarian, meaning bright , clear . It spans across much of my lands.” His soothing voice awoke the part of me that purred in his presence.

“I thought you didn’t have power over water?”

“I don’t. It’s the one element that eludes me, but I can control air.” He gestured to the invisible platform supporting us. “Regardless of my inherent inability to work with water, all life needs the Mother-given element, my lands included. The Summer Court is rich with it, but I cannot wield it, nor can anyone from my court, I’m afraid.”

How strange it must be to have all that power, but have a single element evade you, remaining just out of reach.

“Can other courts wield water?”

“Yes. Here, join me for lunch and we can visit.” A staircase going down under the sea’s surface appeared next to him, pushing the water out of the way. He turned and followed it below, disappearing out of sight.

Curiosity trumped fear, and I tentatively followed him.

Cautiously, I took a toe and tapped the base of the first step. The beading on my sandal glinted in the light as my foot met a hard surface. Placing my sole flat, I slowly lowered myself down. A soft, bemused laugh came from Caius, and he came back up the stairs, offering me a hand.

When at the bottom, my breath caught. We stood in a small, circular dome within the sea, perhaps ten paces across, and just as many high. It wasn’t a room of walls, but of a translucent nothingness—as if made from the water itself.

Caius was right about how the courts wield powers in different ways, some to display beauty, and others for control. Amos had used this same magic to hold me in, to create a sound barrier around us, but Caius… He used it to experience the impossible.

A warm slickness weaved through my fingertips as I glided them along the invisible barrier, creating ripples like a pebble disturbing a lake. About halfway across the domed room, I knelt, fascinated by the exquisitely colored, porous, plantlike structures that stood taller than me, mere inches away.

“Is this coral?” I whispered.

“Yes.” Caius’ voice sounded like Endymion’s when he’d watched me explore something new. What had he called it again? My wonderment ?

“I see now where the color gets its name.” It was a near perfect match to the fabric Alejandro had held up to me and tsked, saying, Does nothing for you, darling. A shame, before tossing it aside.

The coral teemed with life, an unending variety of fish lazily meandering here and there. Their colors were vibrant beyond my wildest imaginings.

“Do you like it?” he asked, voice tentative.

“I’m not even sure how to describe what I’m feeling right now.” I paused, trying to find the right words, to identify the emotion.

“Do you know how we gaze upon the stars on a moonless night?” I said, turning to face him.

He nodded.

“We see the vast expanse of their glittering wonder and call them beautiful. But I think we settle on that word, knowing that being in their presence, bearing witness, is a blessing that goes beyond seeing alone—because it is more than that. It’s a great privilege to be in the presence of such…” Words failed me, and I didn’t want to diminish the stars by using a synonym that would pale the truth, so I left the unspoken words floating there.

Finally, I said, “Honored, Caius. I feel honored to witness such beauty.”

“I feel honored too, Nyleeria,” he said, and I wasn’t entirely sure he was talking about the teeming life around us.

I broke our gaze and turned back to the sea.

With what looked like no effort on Caius’ part, an entire picnic appeared before us, except it was more of a feast in picnic form—complete with a blanket and all. I went to sit on the ground, or what constituted the ground in that dome, and was pleasantly surprised. While it felt solid underfoot, it gave way as if I were sitting on sand.

I piled ceviche onto my plate.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you last night,” I said, “but your food is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before and pleases my palate beyond measure.”

Caius smiled with pride. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. The Summer Court is blessed in many ways, and our access to fresh food is one of those blessings.”

I smiled back at him and remembered the conversation we’d left unfinished up on the surface. “You said other courts can wield water, but your court can’t—why?”

“Well, each court has limitations based on how they are tethered to the Mother. The Summer Court can wield fire,” Caius said, and along the edges of the dome, embers shone brightly, filling the space above us as if they were stars. “Air,” he said, and a water bubble with a fish in it swirled around me, then returned to the sea. “And earth.” A soft rumble shook the ground beneath us, making everything sway. In a blink, the embers faded, and everything went back to how it was.

“But water eludes us.”

“So, all courts only have power over three of the four sacred elements?”

“No. Winter is cut off from fire and earth.”

“Amos can only wield water and air?”

“Yes,” Caius said, his tone going serious, “but Amos is deeply rooted in those two, and his court is violent enough that he only needs two to wreak havoc. He is extremely powerful, Nyleeria.”

The hairs on my arm rose. “I know,” I said, and my hand subconsciously rose to my neck.

“The Spring and Autumn Courts,” Caius continued, as if wanting to soften the conversation, “wield the same powers: water, air, and earth, but each court has stronger ties to different elements—so how they are able to wield them is extremely different.”

“If Spring’s powers are derived from water, air, and earth, then how is Myron able to heal?” I asked, placing my hand back on my lap.

“Ah, well, Spring’s ties to the Mother in order of strength are earth, water, then air,” he explained. “Earth can be used in many ways. Tell me, have you ever planted something, or watched fresh spring growth, Nyleeria? ”

“Of course.”

“Where do you think their life force comes from? Who do you think is responsible for life’s animation?”

“The Mother.”

“Exactly, and do you feel the Mother when you look at the stars or touch the ground?”

“The stars have nothing to do with the Mother—her energy comes from within Lumnara.”

“Yes. You see, the very essence of spring is to transform the Mother’s energy through the ground to create life, meaning Myron’s ability to heal is merely a different manifestation of that process.”

It was fascinating to learn how their powers worked. How mine might work if I could ever find a way to tap into them.

As if sensing my thoughts moving in another direction, Caius asked, “Nyleeria, how did you get rid of the wisp?”

I blinked, confused. “You were there with me.”

“Yes, I saw what happened, but I’m not sure how it happened.”

“I mean, I didn’t do anything, really. I just gave myself over to the Mother, yielded to her.” It was true; I genuinely had no idea how it had happened, or why.

His voice soft, he said, “Nyleeria, that wasn’t the Mother.”

I stared at him, looking for some indication of humor, or something else. He couldn’t really believe it wasn’t the Mother, could he?

Nothing but resolution showed on his features.

“What was it, then?” I asked, fear starting to bubble within me.

“I don’t know. I was hoping you would.”

“How do you know it wasn’t her?”

“As you know, I can commune with the Mother, hear her as clearly as you and I are conversing right now. I tried tapping into her in the void; only, it wasn’t her. It was like whatever answered me was speaking an ancient tongue,” he explained, brows furrowed as if the exchange had frustrated him.

I paused, remembering the voice that had rung out clearly. Hello, sweet child. Child of everything. Child of nothing. Caius continued to look at me, waiting. Knowing I couldn’t tell him what I’d heard, I still needed to offer something.

“When all of you were talking about how there is no known way to get rid of Amos’ wisp, something about that triggered a thought when we were in the void, or whatever it was. It felt to me like others had always tried to rip it out. Force it. Once the colors swirled around me, I thought that if I made myself uninhabitable, the wisp might choose to leave.”

He tapped his thumb against his knee, seeming to think it over. “So, you believed that the wisp wasn’t compatible?”

“Yes. It felt dark, like a sentient entity, and I got the sense that it would only thrive in darkness. If I absorbed enough of what was being offered, then maybe it wouldn’t have anywhere to hide. Although, I wasn’t expecting it to be hidden in my chest. I think because it manifests as visions, I’d expected to find it in my head.”

“I was surprised at that too,” Caius admitted. “Although, I suppose one could say darkness finds its way into our hearts through the cracks we leave unhealed.”

His words pulled me up short. He was right. The ache for my parents, my siblings, my simple life—that ache lived in my heart. I could feel it in every cell of my body—the grief that crippled me in those first moments, that still caught me off guard—but that pain and darkness had burrowed deep into my chest. Maybe I could heal it the same way—but to shine light on it would be to face it, and I wasn’t ready for that.

“You’ve experienced great pain in your life, Nyleeria,” Caius said. Tilting his head, he added, “Fresh pain.”

“Yes,” I breathed.

Unwilling to discuss it further, I asked, “Why did you invite us, Caius? Why even send an invitation after all this time?” It was something that had always bothered me. What was in it for them?

“Tradition, I suppose. The high lord of the Summer Court has always sent an invitation. It’d just remained unanswered for a very long time. ”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Apparently, there were things neither of us wanted to discuss.

“Why invite Wymond and Amos?”

“The short answer is politics. Although sometimes difficult, we work to keep the peace among ourselves. If I’d hosted humans for the first time in centuries and kept it to myself…well, we are naturally untrusting, and the other courts would’ve assumed nefarious intent. So, I invited them. If I’m being honest, Nyleeria, had you not come, I don’t think we would have run into the same issues. In fact, the two lords would have grown bored rather quickly and left. Which is why I didn’t give it a second thought before inviting them. But then you, a simple human woman”—he smirked—“entered my court.” He heaved a sigh, and it was the most human thing I’d ever seen a fae do. “There will be fallout for this. I don’t know what exactly, but I feel like our tenuous peace may have been strained.”

Fear gripped me, and as if reading my thoughts, Caius said, “Don’t worry, Nyleeria, they’re not stupid enough to go to the human realm, but I wouldn’t recommend you visit our lands again anytime soon.”