Zoey was excited to find a gift box on her bed with roses on the day of the Red Festival. She immediately knew it was the dress Caynin had promised her and rushed to look at it. It was strapless, covered in snowflakes, with long, transparent, sleeves that fell to the ground. Fine white pearls were braided over her breasts. The rest of the garment was light silver that suggested the moon. Caynin liked choosing dresses that were white or silver. Since this dress did not have an open back, she decided to wear her hair down. The dress came with white, pearled shoes.
Caynin had explained to her that he was required to sit on his throne, side by side with the other princes and Tarragon, while the queen spoke. He would join her afterward. She entered the throne room where lively music played. Fata were everywhere, garbed in beautiful ball gowns and elegant suits. They stared at her when she passed, and she did not know if it was because she had succeeded at the two trials, or it was because of her dress.
The ice inside the throne room was gone, and several fires were burning to keep the room warm. Had Caynin done that for her? A red carpet led into the throne room, all the way up to the dais in the back, made from iced vines that had not been there before. One big throne stood in the middle of the stage, flanked by two smaller ones.
To the left was Bolt, wearing a crown of fall leaves, just like his throne. The leaves were brown, yellow, and orange, shaped as if made from papier-mâché. Next to him sat Caynin, his crown made of ice crystals. His throne was made of the same crystals that looked dangerously sharp. Then it was the Eternity Throne – Valeska Pearlson’s – which incorporated all the materials used in the other thrones. The brown leaves, ice crystals, blossoms, and green leaves blurred together in colorful beauty. A box rested on a small stand near this throne. This box no doubt contained the broken Egress Key. To the right of the Eternity Throne sat Tarragon, upon a throne of blossoms. Next to him, on a small stand, was the Everblossom Crown Prince Calico used to wear. As Tarragon was not a prince, he did not wear a crown – Caynin had mentioned that only someone with royal blood could wear an Eternity Crown. If Tarragon were to put it on his head, he would burn. Next to him was Dagan, crowned with bright green leaves, just like his throne.
It was a breathtaking sight.
Caynin’s beauty was mesmerizing. Once again, he wore a white suit, but this one had a long coat that split, like a snake’s tongue in the back. He was talking to Bolt before he noticed her. She did not know what he was saying, but she was pretty sure he stopped talking mid-sentence when he saw her. She smiled at him as he gaped at her.
Then the music stopped, and the Fata gathered around the red carpet. Moments later, the queen took long, confident strides into the throne room. She wore a silky, purple gown and, after a glance around the room, Zoey realized that she was the only one wearing purple. On her head was the Eternity Crown – similar to the Eternity Throne.
She ascended the dais and looked at her Fata. “Brothers and sisters, I welcome you to the Red Festival!” The crowd cheered, and she started talking after they quieted down. “Seventeen years ago, we had to flee Erken in order to survive. Seventeen years ago, we found a new home on Earth. Tonight, the four Eternity Kingdoms are united to celebrate survival and enjoy everything this new world has to offer us.”
Someone appeared in the doorway, making heads turn. It was a small woman, dressed in a loose red gown, despite the cold outside. She looked as if she was in a trance as she walked down the carpet, toward the queen. Her cheeks were red from the cold, and her nose was runny.
“We know it is tradition for the queen to have the first drink of the evening,” Valeska said. “Afterward, you may all have as much blood as your hearts desire.”
Zoey was confused. Blood? She watched as the woman climbed onto the dais, halted in front of the queen, and held out her wrist. Like a vampire, the queen sank her canines into the woman’s wrist and started to drink her blood. Zoey almost cried out in horror.
There are certain things you won’t like.
Caynin had known this would happen. He hadn’t wanted her to attend because he knew she would not approve. Zoey suddenly had the urge to run to the girl and shake her shoulders until she snapped out of the compulsion. Then she wanted her to run away. But Zoey couldn’t do that. All she could do was watch.
The queen drank her blood, and when she stopped, two red streams dripped from the corners of her mouth. She closed her eyes as if she experienced pure bliss before she licked at her lips and went to stand next to the Eternity Throne. She picked up the little box and displayed it for the crowd to see.
“As all of you know, this box contains the Egress Key,” she said. “With this key broken, the Prenumbras have no way of opening a doorway and finding us.” She was not going to tell them about the Prenumbra among them that was responsible for the death of multiple Fata. “With this key broken, we have no way of leaving this planet. We will stay on Earth forever.” They did not want to leave. Even if there weren’t Prenumbras on Erken, they would not want to go back. They liked Earth better.
Valeska opened the box, clearly intending to remove the key and hold it up for all to see. But when she opened the box, her smile disappeared. She turned around and looked at Tarragon as she said, “It’s empty.”
Tarragon went pale, and a murmur rippled through the crowd. Valeska dipped the box upside down to prove that it was empty.
“Fear not,” Tarragon said loudly. “It must be in my room somewhere. I’ll go get it.”
Valeska glared at him, clearly displeased. He must have been embarrassed when he got to his feet, although he hid it well, and left. Zoey enjoyed every second of his discomfort.
“Let the festival begin,” Valeska announced.
And it did. More humans were brought in – all of them wearing red. Some were in trance-like states when Fata sank their teeth into their necks and wrists. Zoey couldn’t tear her eyes away and tried not to puke.
“Zoey,” Caynin said from behind her.
She couldn’t bring herself to look at him as her stomach twisted and turned. She felt worse than she had when she had seen the corpses, worse than she had when she thought she had killed the Slaerie.
“What is this?” she mumbled. She watched as a girl approached a Fata and extended her wrist. “How could they compel her to do that?”
“She’s not compelled,” Caynin said. “That one is a willing blood slave.”
There was that term again. “Define that.”
“A willing blood slave is someone who willingly gives their blood for us to drink. Some of them are compelled anyway, but others are not.”
“Why would anyone do that?”
“It is usually done by humans who worship us – they see us as gods.”
“You aren’t gods,” Zoey spat. She turned around and faced Caynin. “But not every human here is a willing blood slave, right? Most are compelled to do this – which just makes them normal blood slaves.”
“Most are compelled,” Caynin repeated.
She was glad he did not try to justify this by telling her that the humans were compelled and would not remember a thing. Everything about this was wrong.
“You know this is wrong,” she told Caynin.
“It’s not wrong. We are predators. Would you hate a lion for eating a gazelle? It’s only his nature.”
“If you didn’t think this was wrong, why didn’t you let me wear red tonight?”
“I have a beautiful red one with—”
“Not red,” he interrupted. “Don’t wear red.”
“Why?” she asked. “It is called the Red Festival.”
“Red isn’t suited for you, not on that night.”
Wearing red meant you were here as a drink, as a blood slave. Brutal bite marks bloomed on human necks. They didn’t act like it hurt. They were compelled to think it didn’t.
“I won’t let them do this to you,” Caynin said, keeping his distance.
So, you are his possession
She looked into his blue eyes. “Promise me you will never do this to me.”
“I promise I will never drink your blood against your will.”
She grunted. “You think I’d willingly let you do that to me?”
“You don’t understand it…” Caynin said.
“I’m disgusted by it,” she said. “Do you do this, too? Drink human blood?”
Zoey watched Fata cut humans wrists and let their blood drip into wine goblets. The first time she had seen humans in the castle they had cut marks on their wrists. Back then she had not understood, but now she knew the Fata were taking their blood. She shuddered as she recalled that at breakfast Caynin used to take away his wine glass before she could have some. He told her that the wine was not for humans. At the feast before the festival, he had also taken away the wine glass before she could drink anything. It had never been wine in the glass but blood. Human blood.
“Why would you drink that?” Caynin had told her the wine, the blood, could intensify emotions.
“Do you remember I told you that Fata experience things different than humans?” Caynin asked. “We don’t feel wind, rain, cold or heat like you do.”
“But if you drink the blood, you do?”
He nodded. “If we drink your blood, we also get to experience sensations and emotions more intensely. Happy emotions.”
She shook her head as she realized human blood was a drug to faeries. To Caynin. He had claimed he would protect her, but he had never said he would protect other humans. He was the farmer, and they were the cows.
“Fata occasionally drink each other’s blood,” he said as if that would make this whole situation better. “So that we can share magic. But the effects wear off.”
“Is that supposed to make this better?” she asked. “You drink human blood to get high on emotions and sensations.” She shook her head. “Do you kill them?”
“Mostly we do not… We…re-use them.”
“How can you not see that this is wrong?” she asked in a tiny voice. When Caynin did not answer, she asked, “Where do all these humans come from?”
“The Twixies lure them into the woods,” he responded.
All this time, Zoey had loved the Twixies. They were her favorites, and she saw them as a light in the darkness. She had thought they were something good between all this bad, that they were sweet, harmless Fata, but they were just as bad as the rest of them.
“I knew you’d take the news badly,” Caynin said.
“You should have told me sooner.” She glared at him.
“Would that really have made a difference?” he asked.
She met his gaze but did not answer. It didn’t matter when she found out, she would never have approved. Suddenly the room felt too small, and she had the urge to get out. She wanted to get away from all of them.
“I have to go,” she said.
“I’ll go with you.”
“I don’t want to be around you right now,” she snapped.
“You need time to cool down.” He did not show any hurt.
She turned away from him. It felt as if she wasn’t going to cool down, even if she had all the time in the world. She walked on the red carpet, out of the throne room. She hated herself for loving this place. Now, with all the decorations, the throne room was more beautiful than ever. The Fata danced and partied with an otherworldly energy. The dresses were twirling and shimmering, and they looked as if they were made in Heaven.
Zoey entered the gardens, where she sat down on the edge of a fountain, letting the cold punish her for being so naïve. In the middle of the fountain a Fata statue danced, with water flowing out of her head as if it were hair. Zoey gazed at her reflection in the water, but she almost didn’t recognize herself. The dress made her look like a goddess, and she felt much older than eighteen. All that was missing in her reflection was a smile. She couldn’t muster one.
That night Eric had hurt Caynin, and Caynin showed up to her room for aid, she had cut her hand when breaking Kismet’s window to steal the Fluver-luzile. She had got some of her blood on his cheek and that made him more aware of his surroundings. He had smelled her blood and wanted to drink it. She felt sick.
“Are you all right?” Rane asked unexpectedly.
She didn’t turn to face him, and he slowly sat down next to her. She didn’t have to look at him to know he wore a tux in which he looked fabulous.
“I didn’t like that humans were being compelled to be slaves,” she said, “but now I’ve found out you drink their blood, too.”
“I don’t drink their blood,” Rane said quickly.
Now she could look at him. “Because it’s sickening?”
“It is,” he agreed, “but also because my family was murdered by humans. I want nothing from them.”
She laughed. “So, you have never ever drunk human blood, because you think you are so much better than us?”
He nodded. “Not even one drop.”
She felt closer to Rane then she ever had before and realized she might like him after all.
“You don’t drink blood,” she said. “How very humanly of you.”
He flicked his wrist so that tiny drops of water jumped out of the fountain, onto her. She couldn’t help but shriek and then laugh.
“You know, Rane, you really surprised me,” she said. “I like you more than I thought I would.”
“Likewise, human.” He winked.
Zoey looked past Rane, to where Tarragon was. He had emerged from his room and was heading toward the throne room, while he spoke angrily to one of his Fata.
“I’m telling you, someone stole the Egress Key from my room. When I find out who it is, he will wish he was never born.”
Caynin had told her the Egress Key was broken and that it was used as an artifact in a museum. Why would anyone steal it?
“Rane, does the Egress Key hold any value?” she asked.
“Only sentimental value,” he said, “but if Tarragon lost it, he is going to be in a lot of trouble.”
“Lost it? He said it was stolen.”
Rane turned his gaze on her. “That’s ridiculous. There would be no point in stealing a key which doesn’t work. I think he lost it and is too embarrassed to confess.”
Tarragon disappeared from sight, and then Zoey saw Dagan talking to some Fata while he held the wrist of an old man. He didn’t look like he was drinking, but as if he was going to give the man to the females.
Why did he look so familiar? Then, with a shock, she realized he was Bree’s long-lost husband who had become addicted to Fata wine – actual wine and not blood. She recognized him from the photos in Bree’s house, although he was older.
Zoey got up, but before she could march over there, Rane said, “Zoey, don’t interfere with Fata and their blood slaves. They won’t take that lightly.”
She ignored Rane and approached the Evergreen Prince. “Dagan.” She did not bother to hide the edge in her voice.
“Excuse me, ladies.” He turned away from them. They took one look at Zoey, pulled up their perfect noses, and left. “My dear Zoey, I am delighted to see you,” he said with so much charm.
“I wish I could say the same,” she responded and looked at Alfred. The man stood there, not compelled, and would let Dagan do whatever he wanted.
Dagan looked from her to the blood slave. “You don’t approve.”
“Of course not,” she said.
Dagan dropped Alfred’s wrist and smiled at Zoey. “Why are you here, Zoey?”
“You owe me,” she reminded him, capturing his full attention.
“You only get your wish after you complete the third trial,” he reminded her.
“I’m not here about the wish,” she told him. “I had your back when you and Tarragon dueled. You owe me.”
“And I assume you are here to collect,” he said. “What is it that you want?”
“I want you to free this man from his curse, and have someone escort him to the border,” she said firmly without thoroughly considering her request.
Dagan must have been surprised that she knew about Alfred’s curse. “He does not belong to me. He is the property of some other Fata.”
“You are a prince,” she reminded him. “Don’t tell me you can’t do it.”
Dagan smiled humorlessly at her. Zoey could not save all the humans, but she could save this one and send him home to Bree. She could make a big difference in his life. Alfred gaped at Zoey as if she were his guardian angel, but he did not dare to speak out of turn.
“Okay,” Dagan said simply.
Zoey reached out and grabbed his arm. “Promise me.”
He looked from her arm to her eyes. “I promise to have his curse lifted and send him home alive.”
She let go of his arm. “Thank you.”
Dagan motioned for another Fata to come over, told him to lift the curse, and take Alfred home. The Fata must have been displeased that he had to leave the feast early, but he didn’t dare defy the prince. He left, and as he led Alfred away, the old man mouthed ‘thank you’. Zoey smiled at him.
“You really are a do-gooder,” Dagan told her.
She wanted to turn away, but this time he reached for her arm. His grip was firm, but not threatening. “Will you dance with me?”
She pulled free. “Why don’t you go drink some human blood instead?”
“Are you offering?” he teased and stepped forward. She knew she shouldn’t look weak but stepped backward instantly. If he wanted to bite her, there was nothing she could do to stop him.
His smile disappeared, and he withdrew. “You really take this seriously, don’t you?”
She glared at him.
“Does it make a difference if I told you we don’t hurt the humans? We feed them and clothe them…”
“And keep them like cows—”
“For milking,” he said instead of ‘slaughtering’. “If you’re going to live here, Zoey, these are the kinds of things you are going to have to accept.”
He was right. She couldn’t change this world, no matter how badly she wanted to.
“Why don’t you dance with me?” the prince asked. “It will take your mind off things.”
No one else would reject him – he was a Fata prince. Dancing with him was an honor, but Zoey was still upset, even after he’d freed Alfred. He smiled at her, and treated her kindly, but what was stopping him from sinking those canines into her neck?
“Go to hell,” she told him and enjoyed his obvious surprise. She knew he was staring after her as she left. She walked as if she had a purpose, but she didn’t even have a destination. She just wanted to get away from him. She saw Caynin in the crowd but didn’t go to him either. She was done with this festival. She was going to go to her room, slam the door, and try to sleep.
As she pushed past Fata in the gardens, someone screamed. It was a human scream, and the Fata didn’t pay her much attention. It was a girl who looked about Zoey’s age, and she was clearly not compelled. She wore the same red dress all the other humans here did. Tarragon was standing in front of her, gripping her wrist. She was screaming and kicking, while he pulled her around as if she were a toy. He was enjoying it. Sadistic, sick, prick.
He hadn’t compelled her because he liked scaring her. He must still be angry about the key he had lost, and now he was talking it out on this innocent girl. She was crying and begging him to let her go. The poor thing. Why was no one helping her?
Zoey had enough. She didn’t have any weapons with her, and her bare hands wouldn’t do her much good. She looked around the garden but couldn’t find anything that would help.
Tarragon was going to bite the girl. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to him. Zoey took off both of her heeled shoes, aimed and threw one. It struck Tarragon on his nose. He closed his mouth and let go of the girl, who started running. Then Tarragon’s eyes found Zoey, and almost instantly he was in front of her, his teeth bared. She held up her other shoe as if it were a dagger.
Zoey, don’t interfere with Fata and their blood slaves. They won’t take that lightly.
Rane had warned her, and now she had angered one of the most powerful Fata. She was not going to back down, although her legs were shaking from terror. “Get away from me.”
“You lost me my drink,” he said. “You’ll have to replace her.”
Tarragon grabbed her arm, and she swung her shoe toward his face. Unfortunately, he caught her wrist, twisted, and she dropped the shoe. Then he sank his teeth into her neck. Zoey screamed.