Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

I freeze, my heart slamming. The blade held to my neck presses hard, nicking my skin. Any movement might be my last.

"Rosalind, go to sleep," the woman behind me says gently. "I'll talk to our visitor outside."

"Should I call for help?" the girl asks.

"No need, sweetie. I have it under control. No one is taking you anywhere." Fingers tighten around my arm, and nails dig into my flesh. "Move. Slowly."

She spins me around and starts walking me back out. With the blade against my throat, I take small, measured steps to the door, and she reaches around me to pull it open.

The moment we're outside, she slams me against the wall, her knife immediately back on my throat. Right now, with my hands and feet still numb from cold, I have no chance of fighting her off.

"Okay, then." A lock of dark hair falls in front of her face as she bares her teeth, and I realize she doesn't have the canines of a full Fey. "Start telling me who you are."

She isn't wearing armor or anything else that would make her look like a soldier. In fact, she's wearing what looks like a silk nightgown. Her silver eyes have the metallic sheen of the Fey, but her ears are round.

There's something weirdly familiar about her, but I can't quite place it.

"You're demi-Fey," I say.

Her lip curls. "Perceptive, aren't you? I suppose you don't like the demi-Fey very much. Mongrels, the trash of Brocéliande, and all that?"

I swallow hard, regretting the powerful, meticulous glamour that disguises me. She wouldn't believe me if I said I was demi-Fey, and I'm still not clear if I should blow my cover. "What I mean is, you're not Fey military. They don't accept demi-Fey."

"Obviously, I'm not Fey military," she hisses. "I belong here."

"This…this is a fortress belonging to the royal family. Or a rogue branch of them. The Blue Dragon Project. I saw it labelled on a map. Is it a weapon? Is the Blue Dragon a weapon of some kind?"

"Is it a what ?" she asks incredulously. She blinks a few times, then lets out a snort of laughter. "Yeah, yeah, it's a weapon. It's horrific. The children scream when they use it. So, who the fuck are you?"

Slowly, I start to put together why she looks familiar. The dark hair, the bright silver of her eyes that blends to blue. The straight, black eyebrows.

"Do you know someone named Ysolde?" I ask.

She goes still, gripping my collar with her free hand. The blade eases just a little from my throat. "Where did you get that name?"

It's her.

I suck in a deep breath. "I know your brother. Raphael."

Her eyes widen, jaw dropping open. "Where is he?"

Of course, I'd love to help with their family reunion, but I have a job to do right now. "I'll tell you what I know, once you tell me what you know. What's the Blue Dragon Project?"

She narrows her eyes. She's breathing heavily, debating whether she should kill me now or let me live. But she's not going to sever the one thread that would lead her back to her brother. "Okay, then. Let me show you. We'll take a walk down the stairs. I'm removing my knife from your throat, but make a sudden move, and I'll slit your throat so fast, you won't even have time to scream."

I give her a nod.

Slowly, she eases the blade off my neck, keeping a vise-like grip on my arm as I walk down the stairs. I can feel the blade prodding at my back.

I steady myself on the stone wall as I descend. When I push through the door into the courtyard, the cold night air hits me, and I glance up at the moons.

Ysolde's fingers dig harder into me. She snarls, "Don't even think about trying to escape. Keep walking if you want to see the Blue Dragon. Through the archway."

We're heading for the second courtyard that I saw on my way in. And as we cross through the stone entrance, I gasp. A dragon looms above us in the dark.

Except…it doesn't move. It towers over us, immobile. As she shoves me closer, details start to emerge. Like its unblinking glassy eyes. Or the handful of twigs scattered over its feet. It's painted an iridescent blue, and its surface is smooth as metal. One of its wings swoops up toward the parapet, unmoving.

A ladder stretches up its side, and a slide runs down alongside its tail. It's a fucking playground.

"I give you the Blue Dragon Project," Ysolde says, and she points the knife at my throat again. "Terrible, isn't it? The kids can climb up the rungs, dangle from its mouth, and jump into that sand pit. See? And they can walk inside its belly and look out the windows. It's a real travesty."

"Why is this place here?" I finally ask.

"It's a safe haven for the fugitive kids. The exiled demi-Fey, the displaced humans. The war in the human lands left a lot of orphans without anyone to look after them. Here, they're safe. But now I want to know who the fuck you are. How do you know Raphael?"

"Someone brought human children into Brocéliande?"

"Humans, demi-Fey. Maybe you don't think these children deserve to live, but we don't leave kids behind, no matter who their parents are."

I'm still staring up at the structure. "But how did they get here? Give the rest of the story, and I'll tell you what I know about Raphael."

"There was a fortress just like this back in Fey France—that's a land in the human world. But about six months ago, it was attacked. By humans . So, the staff evacuated the orphaned kids and moved them here. It was built remarkably quickly, with magic I assume."

"Six months ago," I repeat.

The timeline can't be an accident. Six months ago, I returned from a mission with a map of Fey secret bases. When we broke into the Chateau des Rêves, we stole a map from Talan. Raphael hoped to use it to find his sister. I remember how angry Talan was, how he trapped us in a nightmare again and again, nearly drowning us. He was desperate to get that very map back.

But we turned it over to Avalon Tower.

Soon after, Avalon Tower launched attacks on some of these bases, hoping to cripple the Fey military position in northern France.

I swallow hard. Maybe one of those bases was an orphanage.

"This was all a terrible mistake," I mutter.

"Really," she responds dryly.

"How did you end up here, Ysolde?"

"I was one of the first fugitives brought to the fortress in France. I grew up in it. And as we got more children, and the war went on, I chose to stay and help with the kids. I would do anything to keep them safe."

"Who paid for all this?"

"We've never known. A powerful benefactor, a member of the nobility who doesn't want to reveal their identity. Probably someone who's secretly part human. I don't really care, just as long as the funds keep coming in."

Talan knew about it. Not only did he know about it, but he seemed desperate to protect it during the council meeting. But that doesn't mean he was the benefactor—only that he knew it existed.

There's a possibility that he's keeping the kids alive so he can prove someone's treason at exactly the right time. Or he plans to turn the children into his own army of undercover agents.

I have to consider all the options.

But the main thing I know right now is that Ysolde will kill me if I can't convince her that I'm on her side.