Chapter Twenty-Six

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

WHITE LIES

I stroked the bruises on my neck, rinsed my mouth with water from a jug that had been set for visitors, and grabbed a readable-looking novel on my way out so I’d have something to show for my time in the library. Olea’s eyes widened at my throat and face, and I shook my head in response. “I’m fine. Had a small run-in with Fayzien.”

She gaped a moment, but then fell into step with me. “Ye jest let hem get away wi’ ‘at?” she asked quietly, leading me through the serving quarter.

I clenched my jaw. “I wanted to rip out his eyes for laying a hand on me. But he was angry, and angry people tend to reveal things they ordinarily wouldn’t. He’s not mine to deal with, anyhow. At least—not yet.”

She didn’t press further.

We walked through the kitchen, and for the first time, I saw those that had been behind closed doors. These Fae were not like the ones I had come to know. Some were horned, with hair covering their faces, some smaller with ears even more pointed than mine, though I knew they were mature. Jana once told me of Elvens and Gobbles, which many referred to as lesser Fae. They looked away from me when I gazed in their direction, in deference, shame, or hate I could not tell. Something about them didn’t sit right with me—like they were there by force. I wished I could tell them that I, too, was forced to be there. But I knew it didn’t compare.

We approached a smaller wooden door at the end of the serving rooms, and Olea tugged it open, rust squeaking on the hinges. She grabbed two torches from an opposing wall and handed one to me. We made our way down, traveling far beneath the palace. Maybe I imagined it, but I thought I heard running water. We must’ve been lower than Ezren’s cell, for his had a small, barred window at the end of it that looked out of the palace. We were deep underground by the time the staircase ended. And as Olea had predicted, dirt made up the floor.

The room she mentioned was just a few paces from the bottom of the passage, and not concealed by any door. Cold emanated from the circular space, and it smelled of mildew. Frescos of the old Fae decorated the walls, but the colors had faded and a thick layer of dust and grime lined them. A small ledge ran the circumference of the room, like a trough. Instinctually, I dipped the flame of my torch to it and the fire caught. In an instant, a ring of flame encircled us, save for the open entrance.

I knelt on the ground and sifted dirt in my palms, sighing in satisfaction, putting on a display for Olea. She tapped her foot with a nervous rhythm, perhaps disturbed by the eeriness of where we were.

You can wait for me in the kitchen if you want,” I offered. “I’ll be at least an hour.” She looked hesitant but relieved, and she nodded before making her way to the stairs.

I remembered little about the lessons of the old ways of the Fae I had been taught as a child. Rumors of ritualistic sacrifices, both animal and Fae, came back to me. The history of what likely occurred in this space, thousands of years before me, hung heavy in the dense air.

Once Olea’s footsteps faded, I untucked the blueprint from my corset and smoothed it out over the dirt. The blueprint showed several sections, each representing a different level of the Valfalla palace. But instead of the three rooms on the underground level I’d seen before, there was only one. The circular shape of it swelled before my eyes—as if the ink bled from the script. I blinked, wondering if I was hallucinating. And then, it burst into flames, a controlled burn outlining the room on the paper, mimicking where I sat. The flame traveled outside the room, turning right and following a passageway to what appeared to be a closed wall. But it tore through the drawn barrier and continued on, snaking through several more turns and then stopping, marking an X. I looked at the image of the ground level and swallowed in realization. The flame placed the X on the map directly below the guard’s quarters. Where they held Jana, according to the servant I’d paid the day before.

I ran my hands over the parchment, sensing the magic in it now, wondering how a blueprint could have known my intention. “Thank you,” I whispered. And the flame responded, drawing a message back to me. The flames snaked and circled, burning in a swirling script that read: Anything for the daughter of the Mother .

I didn’t have time to puzzle over its meaning, because a moment later the paper erupted into full flame and reduced to ashes. I panicked for a second, wondering if I could remember the path it showed me. But the image had burned itself into my mind. I got up and ran.

I came to the first wall in a matter of minutes. The flame had just gone through it, so I attempted to do the same, thinking it was some sort of illusion.

My nose cracked against the stone, and I fell back. I almost laughed out loud, wiping the blood from my face for the second time that morning. I pushed myself back up and felt the wall with one hand, my torch still in the other. One of the stones felt hollow to my touch, thinner, and I pushed it in. The wall turned, as if on an axle in the middle. It revealed an opening, and I ran through. Two lefts, one right, and another left. And then I faced a dead-end once more.

I pressed my ear to the dark brick. If the map directed me correctly, the holding cells were on the other side. Muffled sounds echoed through the cracks. I ran my fingers around the wall pieces, and one of the bricks wiggled in its place. Slowly, I drew it out, and set it on the floor, willing my breath to quiet. Distant words came into focus.

“You know, I tire of your visits, sister,” Jana’s voice said. I peeked through, attempting to see to whom she spoke, but the lack of light obscured the curved passage. Even with my Fae sight, they were too far away.

“You forfeited calling me that long ago, Janathia. You will address me properly,” the other voice said and my insides turned cold.

Jana cried out in response. “Yes, Rexi,” she breathed, her voice dripping with resentment and pain.

My jaw loosened. Sister? That would make Jana my ? —

“You are a pathetic excuse for a Nebbiolon. Did you really think I wouldn’t know you went for Terra? A traitor, that is what you are,” the Rexi said.

Aunt. I pressed my lips together, continuing to suppress the sound of my breathing.

“You may have been fine to let the Drakkarians and Viri feud for centuries over her disappearance, killing countless innocent in the process, but I was not,” Jana shot back.

“I was protecting the queendom, you simpleton,” the Rexi spat in rage, sounding more unhinged than I thought I’d ever hear her. “Yes, I am a mother, but I am a queen first. I could have killed Terra, you know. There were many who believed that to be the only way to protect Nebbiolo from her.”

Though I’d already stopped moving, her words stilled my heart. The Rexi worried about her queendom’s protection. From me. The image of flying debris that had almost killed Dane danced in my head. Was my power what she truly feared?

“But I sent her away,” the Rexi continued. “To protect my people, our people. To protect her . I had to fake her death—the Elders wouldn’t have rested any other way. And you, you ruined that! Many more, of our own kind for that matter, her included , will suffer because of your actions.”

Jana made a huffing sound, as if she wasn’t buying the story her sister sold. “And what about Viturius? What of him ? Do you think of him at all? Or is he simply collateral damage to you?”

I furrowed my brow at the mention of my birth father.

The Rexi was silent a moment. “We both know it wasn’t me who killed Viturius. That burden is on you, dear sister.”

With that, footsteps on the cold, wet stone grew faint with distance. Then, no sound remained, save for soft weeping from Jana.

I didn’t have endless time before Olea would return to find me, but I waited as long as I could, both to ensure the Rexi had gone, and to give myself a moment to process the information their conversation revealed. Jana was my aunt. She was family. I didn’t know if that knowledge made me trust her more instinctually, or more furious at the lies she spun to her own blood. And what about the ‘danger’ I supposedly posed to the Nebbiolon people? I gazed at my fingertips, wondering what wreckage the Rexi thought my hands would cause.

I found the wall lever and pulled it, the gentle scrape of stone against stone echoing through the halls. The cells were not empty, but neither did they house true life. The prisoners were largely immobile in their chains, unaware of me as I passed them. And then, I came upon Jana’s cell.

She sat on the ground, covered in filth. Her back pressed into the wall, her hands and feet bound in silver to suppress her magic. And while I’d been harboring anger and resentment towards her, it melted away seeing her like that.

“Jana,” I whispered, placing a hand on the bar of her cell.

“Terra.” She blinked her eyes open and looked at me. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough.”

“I suppose you feel betrayed,” she murmured, looking toward the other end of the cell.

“You lied to me.” My cool voice bounced off dripping stone walls. “You told me my mother died. You swore you didn’t speak falsely to me.”

“Terra, the mother that bore you, the mother that swelled with you inside her—she is dead. She has been for some time. I did not lie about that. But,” her voice hitched. “But she is dead because I killed her.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean?”

She cleared her throat. “I suppose I should start at the beginning.” She exhaled in preparation, pausing a moment. “Your mother, several decades my junior, was a brilliant Witch growing up. Siphoned so young, so full of life?—”

“What is a Siphon? I keep hearing that word.”

Jana smiled, resting the tips of her fingers on her clavicle. Her smile disappeared when they did not meet the wooden necklace she usually wore. “Every Witch of generational power has a unique object that can amplify their magic. Mine is the ancient bur oak that is normally tied around my neck. Upon coming of age, a Witch will start his or her search for such an object. There is a draw between Witch and Siphon, an unmistakable pull. It is an honor to find your Siphon quickly, though some search for decades.”

“Do I have a Siphon?” I asked.

“You do. Someday soon, it will be crucial for you to seek it out. I know you’ll find it quickly, just like your mother did hers.”

I paused, wondering if it would be something of the Earth, like Jana’s. When I said nothing, she continued with her story.

“When Neferti met your father, Viturius, well, I had never seen such an instant pair. She was wild, and he reveled in it. Part of the reason she was so free was that she did not grow up with the burden of a future crown.”

“You were supposed to be Queen of Nebbiolo,” I breathed.

She nodded. “I am the eldest. I had seen what happened to the Queens of Nebbiolo, our mother included. They were all… changed after being crowned. I grew up knowing that one day, I would be the one changed, stone-cold, and unrecognizable atop a throne. So I shut everyone out, swearing to only breed after I assumed the role.

“But the universe’s plans are rarely of our own making, and fate is full of surprises. My surprise was Reece. My chambermaid. I thought nothing of her; she was simply a servant. But she showed me unconditional kindness and shouldered the pain of my burden, though I never asked her to. It happened without me realizing… one day, I just knew I couldn’t live without her. But a Nebbiolon Queen marries only for breeding. And Reece couldn’t give me a babe. So I left a letter abdicating the future throne to your mother. It was a few years after you’d been born.

“Our mother died shortly after I left. Neferti took the crown and sent you and your father to Viribrum. She was always stronger than me; she did what she had to without a second thought. And as they all do, she changed. She is not the same, not even close. So, it’s my fault your mother is gone, Terra. My fault your father is dead. My fault the Rexi so coldly cast you out to the human realm. If you are looking for someone to blame, blame me.”

Any resentment I’d held for the Witch before me evaporated. I suppose I could have been angry with her, for she caused my family’s separation. But she did what she did because of love. And I was no stranger to resenting one’s birthright.

“What did she mean when she said she was protecting Nebbiolo from me?” I asked, chewing my lip. “She thinks I can’t control my power? Am I truly so dangerous?”

“I honestly don’t know what she meant, Terra. I don’t think it would be a fear of control—control can always be taught. And you have already come a long way; you are no danger unless you want to be. Ever since she accepted the crown, she has spoken in riddles. I have long stopped trying to decipher them. But I had to find you, Terra. Thousands of innocents would have died if she allowed you to remain hidden, blaming Drakkar for your disappearance. I already have so much guilt to carry, I couldn’t bear more. And Cas had figured out you lived, anyhow; he wouldn’t have rested until you returned.”

I met her gaze. “Speaking of Cas, why did you never tell me about him? You left memories of my mother, of my title, caged in my head—when you’d unlocked my memories of Viribrum and my sire. Why?”

Jana sighed once more. “I thought the knowledge of your title would confuse and frighten you. I worried you’d think we were ransoming you or using you for your position or something twisted like that. And I couldn’t conceal the memories of your title without concealing Cas too, for he is the prince and you two betrothed. As for your mother, I didn’t conceal your memory of her; you simply didn’t have any. I swear on Reece’s grave, I never planted a fake memory in your mind. Terra, I am truly sorry. I thought I would have time to explain; I didn’t think your memories would erupt upon seeing Cas, and I certainly didn’t think Neferti would be here upon our arrival, ready to order me away in chains.”

The four weeks since Fayzien first set foot in Argention had been filled with confusion after confusion, horror after horror. I scarcely knew what or who to believe anymore. But sitting there, in front of my aunt, an overwhelming feeling of reassurance flooded over me.

Cas trusted her. He’d trusted her to find me.

And I knew I trusted her too. I only prayed I wouldn’t regret it.

I held my aunt’s gaze. “I believe you.”

Her mouth wobbled, a glint in her eye. “That is enough for me, niece. I only hope I can one day also earn your forgiveness.”

I swallowed, preparing for the final question I felt compelled to ask. “Did the Rexi order the death of my family in Argention?” My voice croaked out of me.

“I don’t know, my dear. I wouldn’t think her so cruel, but I scarcely know any longer.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing back tears, and exhaled. “Jana, I need to leave this place. I can’t be around Fayzien without wanting to kill him, even if he doesn’t hold the ultimate blame. I don’t trust a word that queen says. And Cas, while he may care about me, he wants me to compete in this ridiculous contest for his hand. I’m a pawn here—I’ve always been a pawn. Can you help me get out of the castle, out of Valfalla?”

She looked at me, her eyebrows pinched. “And where will you go, dear?”

“Anywhere. I don’t know. I’ll go back to Argention to return Gia to her family. And then, perhaps, I can search for Leiya and Leuffen, to see if they survived Fayzien…”

“And then? What will you do? Live on the run? If you learn anything from my story, it should be that one cannot outrun their duty without consequences. I suppose you know what will happen if you refuse to participate in the Sk?l. Hundreds will compete, and many will die. Are you prepared to live your life with that knowledge, that burden?”

“That’s their choice to compete,” I murmured, but it sounded like a weak excuse, even to my own ears.

“True,” she admitted. “And I thought the same thing of my younger sister. She made the choice to serve, to not abdicate. But I will tell you this: the guilt and the pain come anyway. She would still be the loving and wild Witch I knew, if I hadn’t left. You can’t deny who you are, Terra. It always catches up to you.”

“So what am I to do? Just marry Cas? Become some bred mare to unite the Fae kingdom and Witch queendom? Forget about all that Fayzien has done, never to think of Leiya, Leuffen, and Sanah again?”

She sighed. “No, that is not what I’m saying. Fayzien is not worth your time—he is the Rexi’s dog. And Ezren went to search for any survivors of the Casmerre with Dane. As for competing in the Sk?l—it will simply save the king and Cas embarrassment and prevent the unnecessary loss of life. You won’t be married right away; there’s a victory period between the Sk?l and the wedding. It will give you time to figure out what to do next.” Jana paused. “Have they found a way to unbind you two yet?”

I swallowed, the tightness in my chest loosening a little when I heard someone was looking for the twins and Sanah. “No, but Cas says he’s working on it. I suppose it will be harder for him now, though, since I let Ezren go.”

Jana winked, as if she already knew I’d been the one to free him. “Smart girl. How’d you do it?”

“Oddly, they kept him in an above-ground cell. It was much easier to access than this one. I freed him the day I woke.”

“It’s called a spectator cell. They must have wanted him to see something.”

A slice of pain hit my chest. I looked down at the purple stone Olea insisted I put on my left hand this morning. “Cas proposed to me in front of a large group of courtiers.”

“Ah, I see.” She paused. “Do you miss him?”

I shook my head, trying to clear the tears that were forming. “I shouldn’t, I know. He lied to me, too, withheld so much from me. And I’ve only known him a month, such a short time compared to Cas.” I whispered the last part.

Jana considered a moment, only a drip, drip, drip echoing through the cell. “Well, it is that way for some. It wasn’t like that for Reece and me. Our love was a smolder that burned for a long while until my eyes opened to it. But for Viturius and Neferti, it was like two waves crashing into each other. It doesn’t always take time for great swells to build, only the right conditions.”

I closed my eyes, numb from the overwhelming amount of information. “He said something to Cas, when they talked of the binding. He said that I had taken something from him. What did he mean?”

“Terra, you must understand, Ezren has been a warrior his whole life, one of the best in history. He grew even fiercer on the battlefield once he lost his wife. It has been his identity, his release. But now, well, I imagine he will think twice before risking his life ever again. Now, he will always be risking yours. Any injury he ever sustains will be one you not only feel but could die from.”

I stroked the bruises that formed on my throat. “And he feels every injury of mine, even a stubbed toe?”

Jana eyed my neck but didn’t mention it. “Perhaps not a stubbed toe, but every injury that requires significant healing, like a broken toe, sure.”

Something sharp twisted in my chest. “I need to go. I’ve been away a while now. Should I come back here? To free you?”

She shuffled over, and reached through the cell bars, her cold hand grasping mine. “No, I have accepted my fate. Ezren offered to release me when he came for Dane and the others, but I asked him to leave me here. I hoped you’d seek me out, that I would get the chance to explain everything. I am so glad you came, Terra.” She shook her head almost imperceptibly. “My beautiful niece. You remind me of her, you know. The best parts.”

I squeezed her fingers in farewell and turned to go, but hesitated. “What happened to Reece?”

“She died nine years ago. We were blessed with a decade of freedom together. While I can’t say I live without regret, I will always be grateful for the time we shared.”

I stared at her a moment, memorizing the lines of her face. “Goodbye, aunt,” I said, wondering if it would be the last time I’d see her—if she would end up like the dusty corpses that dwelled in the neighboring cells.