29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

O nce back at the castle, Razenna is pulled away by a library guard. The enormous chandelier in the middle of the foyer looks larger than my room in The Snakebeard. I pass the time by counting the hundreds of dangling crystals glittering in the sunlight, casting prisms of colorful light across the walls. I bet if I swung a rope out from the balcony, I could climb over and take one of the teardrop-shaped crystals at the bottom.

Razenna seems like she's going to be a minute, so I ascend the stairs and head towards my room. Something out the window catches my eye.

August, Ciaran, and Mads practice swordplay in the courtyard. They frequently stop and critique one another on technique and swap out weapons. August removes his shirt and engages Ciaran and Mads—two against one. I'm drawn in and lose sense of my surroundings, lost in the way he moves.

"Bronwyn?" Razenna asks, and I jump. "Luc is waiting for you in the study. He's agreed to our deal, which seems enough to settle him down, but he wants to speak with you. I'm heading to the library to smooth this all over. Be careful."

"Wait." I grab her wrist, stopping her. "I don't trust him. I've been listening to how I feel like you said, and something about him does feel off. I made a deal with him and said I'd work for him, and I'm not sure how to back out."

"Good. You shouldn't trust him." She waits for a servant to pass us before she continues. "Deals with the fae can be tricky. We'll talk more about this later, and I'll help you. For now, lay low and play along."

"He's probably going to use his gift on me. What do I do?"

Her eyes harden, and she grasps both of my shoulders, gripping me tightly. "You have gifts, too. Use them." She releases me and runs her hand through her hair, sighing. "Let him. Just don't give him any reason to ask certain questions that may lead him to my powers or our goals. Distract him, seduce him, play with his mind. You have gifts, too, and you are not helpless."

A guard stands outside the study. August may have smoothed things over, but he still hasn't allowed Luc to walk freely in the castle, it seems. I enter the study feeling less anxious and like someone besides Eoin has my back.

"Legs!" Luc chirps. He down in an armchair. "You created quite the scene in the library yesterday, from what I hear. But don't worry. I made sure August will keep your secret under wraps. He is sending his intelligence officer and his cerebex to the library now to find all the witnesses and work it out."

My heart jumps. August knows someone with a cerebex gift. I saunter to the decanter set and pour Luc a generous glass of amber liquid. Razenna is right. I do have gifts, and I can perhaps make this a little easier for myself in the meantime.

I bring Luc the glass and kneel before him. I hand the glass to him before resting my hand on his thigh. His eyes widen fractionally. "Legs?"

"I thought you might have some questions for me," I say, pushing feelings of peace and trust. I focus on the warmth of my hand on his thigh and the gentle sound my voice makes as I say, "Thank you for cleaning up my mess." I bat my eyelashes like Jessa used to at some of our patrons.

His face softens, and he smiles at me. "It was nothing." He sips from the glass and gestures to the armchair opposite him. "There's no need for that. I thought we might simply have a discussion." It worked. The thrill of my first successful trick since Eoin runs through me, and I fight to maintain a neutral expression.

We discuss the events of the last twenty-four hours, and I'm able to divulge only the details I want to. I give him just enough to build his trust in me, and other events I claim are fuzzy, and I can't recall them.

Luc recounts his meeting with August and fills me in on the finer details of what is to come in their temporary alliance.

"We will meet with August and Razenna after lunch to begin planning the journey to the second underworld." Maybe I pushed my magic a little too hard with the trusting feelings because him labeling us as a ‘we' already feels premature.

"I thought you and I could play some cards tonight after dinner, for old time's sake." He seems genuinely relaxed and quite pleased with himself.

"That sounds great." It will be nice to flex those muscles in my mind once again. And it will be a good distraction from the anxiety building regarding tonight's training with August.

Speaking of training—my eyes jump to the window. If I hurry, I might be able to catch some of Eoin's training at the barracks. We get separated more and more each day, and I'm really starting to miss him.

Rather quickly, I find myself at the barracks, walking down the steps of the training arena. August's barracks put Ravton Bay's to shame with permanent stone seating sloping down to a large center ring and multiple racks of familiar and unfamiliar weapons.

Eoin stands in the center of the ring, facing off a fae male who is several inches taller than him. Though neither of them carry weapons, they both move with deadly speed and precision. They both dodge and swing at one another, and the brawl becomes more of a dance as neither of them lands a blow for several seconds.

I walk all the way down the slope and find a seat near the front. Across the arena, August and Ciaran watch the fight, occasionally mumbling something to one another.

A few moments pass and the fae male loses some steam. Eoin hits him twice in the kidneys and then straight to the jaw. The male stumbles backward and falls to the ground. He stands and stumbles twice before falling back down again, holding his head.

A soldier blows a whistle, and Eoin glances around the arena with a wide smile, growing wider as his eyes meet mine.

I stand as he runs over, and he pulls me into his arms, hugging me. "You made it!"

I push him back gently. "You're so sweaty."

"Sorry," he says. "I'm glad you made it. Are you going to stay for the next round?" Eoin removes his shirt and rings sweat out of it before tossing it over the railing. "August doesn't think I can take two of his men at once."

"Can you?" I ask, mildly concerned.

"We'll find out." He gives me one of his most mischievous grins and turns back to the arena. On the other side, August stands with arms crossed, watching Eoin walk all the way to the center of the ring. The way he watches him awakens a burning anger in me. He's threatened Tomas, someone I love, and now he toys with Eoin. My pride in Eoin swells as he approaches his new opponents with confidence. I hope he surprises August.

Two new fae males meet Eoin in the center, and the whistle blows again. I grip the railing in front of me with white knuckles. It only takes a moment, though, to realize he must have been holding back all the times I watched him train soldiers in the Ravton barracks. He's magnificent. It's spectacular how much of a threat he still is against two trained fae soldiers. His head is going to be so big after this.

Razenna plops down beside me, startling me out of my thoughts. "He's impressive."

"He is. Is he going to win?" I give her a sly grin, and she returns it.

"I suppose that is the question, isn't it?" She glances across the arena and back to me. "I could tell you, if you want. But you might not like what I say."

"I have a feeling you're not talking about the fight."

She doesn't answer and instead watches Eoin with me in silence for several minutes. A few blows are exchanged, but ultimately, the whistle is blown, and the fight is deemed a draw. Eoin smiles in our direction, and I cheer for him regardless of the outcome.

"Let's get you back to the Star Suite," Razenna says. "August has instructions for you in your room. He wants you prepared for this evening."

***

I return to the star suite. My bed linens are fresh and neatly tucked, and once again, there are folded clothes on my bed and a note. I'm slightly disappointed by the absence of a tasty treat.

‘Bronwyn,

Wear these tonight. They will aid in your training. Get some rest and meet me on your balcony at midnight.

X August'

Rest; that is his instructions. He wants me to take a nap?

It's not nearly as provocative of a note as the last one. Maybe he is still angry with me. There's a slight churning in my stomach as I anticipate what is to come.

I unfold the black linen clothes. The pants are loose with wide legs and a tie around the waist. The top is small and stretchy and looks like it may be too small.

As much as I don't want to listen to August's note about resting, I am exhausted from the night before. I take a quick bath and return to my room, feeling more comfortable. I open the drawer to my dresser to retrieve the pajamas August gave me and am surprised to find it's stocked full of clothing in my sizes. I pick out a sleeping gown and slip into bed for a nap.

***

A light tapping at my door wakes me, and Razenna enters my room. "Are you planning on sleeping through dinner, too?" she asks.

I sit up and glance out my windows. I've slept through lunch. "What time is it?" I ask as I slip out of bed. I rub my eyes and head back to my dresser to pick an outfit for dinner.

"It is just after fifth bell," Razenna says. "I thought we could talk a little before we went down to dinner."

"About the future?" I ask. I find a pair of artichoke-green pants and an oatmeal-colored sweater and take them into the bathing chamber.

"Yes, that and your deal with Luc," she calls through the door as I change. "How did things go with him? Did he ask you too many questions?"

"It went well," I say, returning to the bedroom. We move to the balcony and sit in the two hanging rope chairs. I recount how I successfully used my glamour or projecting gift to make Luc trust me.

"I knew you had it in you," she says, beaming with pride. "You're not helpless, Bronwyn. There's a reason I've picked you."

She leans back casually and swings with one foot tucked under her thigh. "Now, this deal you have with Luc. I don't see it playing out, so I wouldn't worry too much. Just play along and appease him for now if you want to stay in the good graces of his court."

"Does he die?" The thought of being able to tell when someone will die feels heavy.

"Maybe. I don't think so, though. Death is a hard one for me to see. People fight their deaths with such ferocity, naturally, that there are too many variant paths around it. I normally can't tell until just moments before. By then, it's usually too late to do anything about it."

"I see." Her powers sound complicated, and I find myself grateful that I'm just a healer.

"Even if I knew, I couldn't tell them. Telling people makes it worse almost every time." She grimaces. "I've learned that one the hard way. So, unfortunately, I can't divulge much further, and you can't speak of this with anyone else. I haven't even told August about what's to come. He knows war is on the horizon, but not much else about my further worries. He knows I'll carry forward with duty to the realm first and Selene second."

"He's okay with that?" Given all I've heard about him, it doesn't sound like an attitude he would have.

"He's not as bad as most make him out to be. Don't get me wrong, he can be terrible if he needs to be, but he cares for his people and the realm as a whole. He strives for balance."

"But he threatened Tomas. The whole reason Eoin and I haven't taken the first portion of our earnings and ran is because of his threat against him."

Razenna frowns. "What do you mean?"

"He's paying the orphanage while we are here. Eoin thought that might be August showing us he knows where to hurt us."

She hides a smirk with her hand. "He's wise. But that's not the case. You're free to leave whenever you want, though I wouldn't advise it for the sake of the realm."

Her eyes catch the light and flare with the intensity of rubies in lantern light.

"Why do you have red eyes?" I ask, and Razenna's happy face momentarily slackens. "I mean, I think they're beautiful; they just look very similar to the frygt I saw in the woods."

She sighs deeply and leans back into her chair. "Those weren't frygt you met in the woods. If you met creatures with red eyes, those were their abominations. The frygt are far more terrifying." She looks to me with something like sympathy or sadness, I cant quite place it.

"The frygt belong in the underworld with the goddess of death. However, since she gave up her shade to protect the sirens, she's less powerful. She's unable to stop them all from slipping into our realm." Razenna leans back in her chair and crosses her leg over her knee. "They've pretty much taken over the Forgotten Court. Selene is charged with keeping them within those borders, as our court is what separates them from the rest of . However, they still slip through every once in a while."

"Eventually, the frygt started using a combination of dark magic and human sacrifice to create their abominations. They use these creatures to generate fear for them to regenerate their magic. This way, they can stay within their borders and won't have to fight our Selene warriors. These creatures, their abominations, always have red eyes."

She looks at me with an intense sadness and anger. "I look like the frygt abominations because I am one of them. Necromancers aren't born; they're made."

The raw emotions radiating from Razenna hit me, and I place a hand over my mouth.

"I don't understand," I say.

"They took me from my home when I was a child and brought me to the Forgotten Court. They did things to me, experiments and procedures, and decided I was a candidate for necromancy. I was put through a series of trials with several other children my age, and I was one of four who made it to the final stages. I was the only one who survived the transformation. They attempt to make new necromancers each year, but they only manage to make one successfully every few decades. Creating one while maintaining the soul is hard. It was a huge loss to their court when I escaped." She looks distant, like she's somewhere else.

"They. . . made you?" I ask.

"It's a long story and too dark for now." She stands and heads to the railing, looking off in the distance. "We will have plenty of time to get into that later. Let's get something to eat."