Three fae women appear.
One is blonde and lovely, clad in a gown that shimmers like the moon off the waters of a lake. The second has her ashen hair bound into a braid, and her earrings are little daggers. There’s no mercy in her face, and the sword at her hip has a moonstone set into the pommel. But it’s the last one that captures my attention.
The one with hair like spun starlight, clad strictly in black leather with a hunting bow at her side.
The one with the emblem of a slashing hawk carved into her belt.
“The Starsworn,” he whispers, and the other two women vanish like smoke as he forces the third princess to lengthen until I might as well be looking in a mirror.
All I can see is her face, lovely and dangerous.
Something hot slides down my cheek as I reach for her. The second my fingertips touch her cheek, she’s gone, ghosting into mist. The globe dissipates.
But for a second, I felt her.
And I saw her eyes widen as if somewhere—long ago—she felt a phantom caress on her face.
“Why did you show me that?” Rage and sadness threaten to overwhelm me.
“Because Raesh is but one half of you, Zemira. It’s the only half you know. But you are fae too. You were born under an ancient moon, and you have the stars in your blood. You were made of the shadows, and you have the power of an ancient fae queen thrumming through you.”
He reaches toward me. “Do you know why King Ryddhaen broke the Court of Moon and Stars? It’s because the queens that ruled there were powerful beyond belief. Thousands of years ago, a long-ago fae queen found a fallen star high on the mountains, where she eventually made her court. The stories say she swallowed it, and nine months later she gave birth to a daughter who glowed like the stars and had the power to shift the tides themselves. You are a child of that bloodline, made of starshine and shadows. You are unmatched by any among the Blessed courts.”
“I am also a child of darkness and despair,” I breathe.
His face is merciless. “Yes. You are.”
My heart sinks like a stone.
“You are darkness and you are light, and if you could ever bring yourself to accept the entirety of your nature, then even your father would fear you. You could kiss the stars themselves, Zemira, if only you would let yourself.”
“And you?” I whisper.
“Me?”
“Would you fear me too?”
A dangerous glint comes into his eyes. “I fear nothing, my lady of starlight. I never have, and I never will.” Flames suddenly flicker in his eyes. “Because I am Fire and Fury, and if I were to ever unleash myself from these mortal trappings, then the very world would burn.” He captures my chin. “I do not fear you, Zemira. Even though you could be my undoing.”
No matter how much I try, I can’t stop the violence trembling within me. “If you continue to offer me such terms then I will be your undoing.” My throat goes dry. “He’ll kill you, Keir. My father will kill you. No.” I turn for the wash chambers, desperately needing a moment alone. “This is all we can ever be.”
15
I know what I have to do now.
I Sift along the hallways of the court, searching for my target. I checked on Keir before I left and found him sleeping, which means this is the perfect opportunity to take. My heart might be in turmoil, but my head is clear.
I can feel her, deep in my heart, stirring, reach for me—
It feels like days of mulling over the court, the gossip, the rumors and lies, has finally cleared the mess in my head.
Malechus has spent the days hunting and drinking, and the night’s debauching himself in his private grotto. I can’t get into his bedchambers, and there’s no sign of Soraya in the rest of the court, but there’s one place I haven’t looked for her.
The grotto.
It’s an old sunken limestone cave that’s been turned into a garden of sorts. Thousands of candles are tucked in nooks and crannies around the walls, and thick vines tumble from the roof. The floor is a carpet of moss and night-blooming flowers, and a little brook babbles somewhere in the distance. Ancient stone sarcophagi line the room. The stone is so old the symbols on them are rubbed bare, but they don’t seem like anything I’ve seen before. Someone whispered that they were the tombs of ancient dragon kings, long since turned to stone, and I haven’t dared asked Keir about it. There was rumor that they opened one of the tombs last night, just to check, and the enormous vault was empty, except for an eerie puff of dust that was unleashed when they levered the lid off it.
Malechus’s debaucheries aren’t for the faint of heart.
I’ve seen the masked recipients coming and going—always from a distance—and there are rumors that Malechus simply pours the rapture on the nearest table and lets his guests fight for it.
A young brunette casts her mask free as she tumbles into the arms of a naked faun, the pair of them vanishing into one of those hidden chambers that line the grotto. Snatching her mask before it hits the ground, I Sift into the shadows and then step out of them. Binding her mask around my face, I check the position of my knives, before I steal a wineglass from a passing tray with no intention of touching it.
I swirl the wine, breathing it in as though I know the difference between whether the berries that brewed it came from the mountainous slopes of the Shadowfangs, or whether it’s low country swill.
Really though, I’m testing for poison.
It’s one of Soraya’s favorite weapons and we spent our youths tasting poisons and antidotes. Even over the scent of a cloying wine I can pick out the faintest hint of
