Once my eyes adjusted to the sudden change in light, I instantly noticed the fresh clothing draped over a nearby chair.
It was something I’d wear to the gym. Without trying it on, I knew the tight pants would end at my calves and the tank top would crisscross my back. There were even tennis shoes on the floor.
A quick scan told me there was no one else in the room. Collith or a servant must have tended the fire recently, though, because it cheerily devoured a fresh log. I pushed the heavy covers aside, stood, and walked over to the chair. I didn’t move to put anything on—my imagination fought to pinpoint what kind of fae trial would require an outfit like this. Anxiety began to consume me, like vines creeping over every inch of an old house. Oliver’s advice didn’t seem very solid right about now.
“Did I get the size right? I’ve never been very good at guessing feet.”
I jumped so hard that my leg bumped into the chair. Laurie grinned at me from the doorway. “Jesus. How do you always do that?” I demanded.
Laurie closed the door behind him. “Your first trial is tonight,” he remarked. The firelight danced over his ethereal features and pale hair, making him look more otherworldly than ever.
You don’t say? I wanted to snap. The trials had been impossible to forget from the moment I agreed to them. But there was something about hearing the words said out loud. Full-blown fear rushed through me, and for a moment I couldn’t breathe. In an effort to hide it, I put all my focus into getting dressed. I even forgot to care whether or not Laurie was looking.
Someone had moved my bag so that it rested next to the new clothing. As I pulled the top on, I caught sight of the mirror, which rested on top of everything else in the bag. It was a welcome distraction, however terrible the memory that came along with it. I bent to pick the mirror up, flashing back to the first time I did so. That faint image of Damon lingered in my mind. I ran a finger down the crack and asked, “How did he do it?”
Laurie turned—he’d put his back to me, apparently—and spotted the mirror in my hands. A fathomless expression crossed his face, there and gone before I could define it. “It was a witch’s spell,” he answered, coming closer. “She made it so the glass showed you whoever you loved most.”
Just as he reached for the mirror’s handle, there was a knock at the door. I didn’t have to open it to know who stood on the other side; I could feel him. Laurie backed away, gluing his gaze to the floor, and I bent to put the mirror back. “Come in,” I called, straightening.
The Unseelie King looked even grimmer than usual.
He was dressed in what I was beginning to recognize as his court attire. That lethal glass crown rested atop his head. His tunic was a dark, glittering material of some kind. The collar was high and stiff. And as for his pants … before Collith, I would’ve thought leather was impossible for anyone to pull off. He did, though. His well-muscled thighs were evident through the clinging fabric. I knew his firm ass probably looked just as good, the bastard. Knee-high boots completed the formidable ensemble.
“You shouldn’t have,” I crooned. When Collith’s brow crinkled with confusion, I gestured to his outfit. “You dressed up for my funeral. I’m so touched.”
His expression cleared. I could tell from the tension coming down the bond that he didn’t find me funny. “They’re waiting,” was all Collith said.
I didn’t ask who he meant. It didn’t matter, really. Hoping I didn’t appear as nauseated as I felt, I sat to pull on the socks and tennis shoes. A brief silence fell. The fire crackled and hissed. Once again, Collith didn’t grace Laurie with a single glance or word of acknowledgement. Did he think the silver-haired faerie was beneath him? Was that how he treated all his subjects?
Laurie caught my eye and, as if he knew what I was thinking, gave a subtle shake of his head. I scowled in return.
“Fortuna.” The way Collith said my name caught at me. I finished tying the laces but gave him my full attention. He faltered, and as the seconds stretched and thinned, the entire scene felt like déjà vu. Collith’s first warning echoed back to me. Honesty isn’t in my nature.
I watched him wage an inner war, unable to detect what exactly was happening behind those amber eyes—he kept the doors to his mind firmly closed. At last he asked, his voice strained, “Have I been clear enough?”
“Clear enough about what?”
He raked his hair back with long, pale fingers. He looked more agitated than I’d ever seen him. “The consequences of entering into these trials,” he clarified. “Even if you win, you don’t win.”
I tilted my head, thinking about this. Though it was strange to have a conversation with Laurie there, acting like he wasn’t, a curtain of desperation hung around Collith that I couldn’t ignore. I got up and went to the door; I thought that would be answer enough. But Collith stayed where he was. We stood a foot away from each other now and I had to arch my neck back to look at him. Somehow I’d forgotten how much taller he was than me. “Do you have any siblings, Your Majesty?” I asked abruptly.
His face gave nothing away. “No.”
“Okay. Do you have anyone?”
“I have you,” Collith said simply. It was just as blunt, just as direct as the answer he’d given at Bea’s when I asked what he wanted. You. The strangest part, though, was the sense of transparency traveling along that invisible string between us. He truly viewed me as someone important in his life.
How could one creature be so open and mystifying at the same time?
“That’s not what I mean. I know you’ve loved someone,” I reminded Collith. Her face flitted down the bond, every detail so defined, like a word freshly written in sand. I was careful not to react. Collith remained silent, his emotions still sealed away, but somehow I knew he was waiting for more. I tried to find the right words that would explain it. “They don’t come along often. Those people who truly know you, who’ve seen the beautiful parts of you and the ugly ones, too, and stay anyway. Sometimes it’s a romantic partner, like … like Viessa. Maybe it’s a friend. But usually they come in the form of family. A parent, an aunt, a grandfather.”
“A brother.”
Sorrow dug into my heart, a sharp pain akin to a fingernail jabbing skin. I just nodded. “And wouldn’t you do anything to protect a person like that? To keep them in your life?”
Once again, Collith gave no reply. I could sense my words had struck a chord, though. As the king opened the door for me, I glanced at Laurie, wondering what he thought of our exchange. He merely winked. Such a faerie.
Without another word, the three of us filed out of the room. Guards were waiting in the shadows, Nuvian and the long-haired female who’d struck me during the tribunal. She stared straight ahead and didn’t acknowledge my hard stare. Collith inclined his head to the right and we all started down the passageway. It seemed quieter than usual; there were no agony-filled screams or cries of ecstasy. I hadn’t quite given up on making sense of the maze, so noting the twists and turns took up most of my efforts. It still wasn’t enough to distract me from the purpose of our journey; my heart pounded hard and fast.
Gradually, I noticed that Laurie walked on my left and Collith strode on my right. They were so different; even their steps were night and day. Laurie’s was light, like a dancer’s, while Collith’s were filled with purpose. How had they come to know each other? Was there some kind of dynamic at play that I was completely missing?
Just then, a doorway appeared up ahead. All my thoughts about the faeries on either side of me vanished. It was more of an opening in the wall than a doorway. At a glance, it was obvious only one person at a time would be able to fit through. Somehow it looked older than anything I’d yet seen down here. Please don’t let that be where we’re going, I prayed.
Laurie ducked inside. I swallowed a curse.
Now it felt like there was a flock of birds trapped in my stomach. The rest of us paused at the jagged threshold. No sound came from the other side. I peered within, hoping to catch sight of anything that would alleviate a bit of the mystery. Ease my fear. Aside from the possible flicker of a distant flame, though, there was nothing.
I could feel Collith looking at me intently. “It’s not too late to change your mind,” he murmured. At some point the guards had stepped back to give us the illusion of privacy. “Walking away isn’t an indication of weakness. Sometimes it’s the harder choice.”
Damon’s face rose up, the gaunt-cheeked stranger he’d become. “The only place I’m walking to is that creepy hole,” I said flatly.
It seemed to shrink the longer I stared at it. My mind conjured images of monsters and demons waiting in the depths. Get a grip, Fortuna. Steeling myself, I hurried into the darkness before I could reconsider.
Nothing lunged forward to eat me. Thank God for small favors. Once again my eyes had to adjust; the lighting in here was dimmer than any passage or room I’d seen at Court. The air was cold and dank. After a few seconds, I saw that it was another chamber made of rock and dirt. It was as long as the throne room, but with a much lower ceiling.
Fae awaited us, of course. They were crowded on a high, rocky ledge around the doorway. Surprisingly, little conversation passed among them. Their finery tinkled and flashed, but their expressions were wary, which sent alarms blaring through my head. Why should they be afraid, too?
Collith and his guards had entered close behind me. With gentle fingers, the Unseelie King took hold of my elbow—I still jumped—and steered us to the right. I noticed Laurie, then, standing separate from the throng. Collith and I stopped beside him. As more faeries came in, I turned to survey the rest of the space. Beyond the ledge, there was only water. Its surface was like black ice, not a ripple or wave in sight. Torches lined the walls, but the ones that hovered over the pool looked like they hadn’t been lit in a long, long time. Moss covered several of them. My sense of unease heightened.
In the meantime, the crowd also continued to grow. I didn’t pay attention to them until there was a flash of copper. Jassin, of course. As I had hoped, there was a smaller figure beside him. “Damon,” I whispered. As though he’d heard the small sound, Damon spotted me. He took a step in my direction, looking desperately like he wanted to say something. Quick as a snake, Jassin grabbed my brother’s arm and hauled him back. He spoke in Damon’s ear. Properly cowed, Damon fixed his gaze onto the floor.
It was just the motivation I needed—any trace of uncertainty about going through with the trial vanished.
“Here we go,” Laurie muttered. I tore my attention away from Damon and followed his gaze.
The crowd was parting to reveal a heavyset male, and he was the most unattractive fae I’d ever seen. His head had been shaved, revealing a lumpy scalp. His forehead seemed overly large, protruding over his eyes. His lips gleamed like two flesh-toned slugs. His clothing, though, was another story. The robes he wore were silky and colorful. Earrings gleamed in his earlobes, bright and blue as sapphires. For all I knew, they probably were. Dozens of bead necklaces encircled his neck. They made a sound like rain as he shuffled forward.
Collith left my side to speak with him. The other faerie rumbled back. Their voices were so low I couldn’t make out what they were saying.
“He’s called the Tongue,” Laurie informed me under his breath. “Faeries who are granted his position study magic for centuries. He is held in the highest regard, sort of like how the humans view their priests or popes.”
Everyone was raptly watching the exchange between the king and the Tongue. No one paid any heed to me and Laurie. “What does he do?” I asked.
“In a nutshell, he performs spells for the crown.”
“So he’s a witch, then.”
Laurie shook his pale head. “Not quite. Witches get their power from demonic sources or nature. The Tongue draws his from Fallen blood.”
Before I could ask what the hell that meant, the large faerie stepped away from Collith. A collective hush fell. To my horror, he turned and began walking toward me, slow and steady. His feet were bare and made slapping sounds against the rock. Once he was close enough, he reached out without any explanation and wrapped his swollen fingers around my wrist. A lifetime of avoiding touch and the fear shrieking inside me wanted to immediately yank free. Just as I was about to give in to the urge, Collith caught my eye. He didn’t say a word, but a soothing warmth traveled down the bond. I breathed hard but managed to stay still.
Using his free hand, the Tongue pulled a small object out from the folds of his robe. No, not just a small object—a knife. This time, I did try to jerk away, but he held me fast. In a swift, practiced movement, the Tongue opened a small cut across my palm. I didn’t have a chance to react; at a signal from the big faerie, Collith moved to join us.
Speaking in the angelic language, the Tongue raised his voice so it boomed through the entire cavern. Words poured from him like water. Despite the dread curling in my stomach, I was mesmerized. His expression was a combination of gravity and concentration as he did to Collith what he had just done to me. The king didn’t so much as flinch when the knife touched his skin. Once it was done, the Tongue brought our hands together, smearing our blood.
Magic prickled around us. Looking for more reassurance, I searched Collith’s eyes. He gazed back for just a moment before giving his full attention to the faerie chanting to our left. Of course the Tongue was still speaking Enochian, so I had no way of knowing what was happening.
Once again, Laurie shifted closer. His breath tickled my neck as he translated. “The Queen of the Unseelie Court must possess extraordinary strength, for the crown is heavy. She must be as cunning as the Dark Prince, for she will defend our doors. She must be devoted to the people, for not all have power or wisdom to do so themselves. Fortuna Sworn has put herself forward to prove her worthiness. On this night, she shall undergo the first trial. If she should attempt to depart before the task is completed, she will be put to death by his Majesty, the King of the Unseelie Court. Do you accept this candidate, Collith of the bloodline Sylvyre?”
Collith didn’t hesitate. Whatever reservations he’d had earlier were carefully locked away, where not even I could reach them. “I do,” he answered in English, probably for my benefit. The sound echoed, and the dark room swallowed it, hunching over it like a beast over a carcass. I wanted to run so badly. Run away from all of this, hide in my little house, and never think of faeries again.
For the first time since his arrival, the Tongue fixed his disconcerting eyes on me. They were such a light blue they almost looked white. Laurie quickly made himself scarce. “For your first task, you will be given a single weapon,” the faerie said, also in English. The abrupt shift startled me.
In response to this, Nuvian stepped closer. He held out his sword. It flashed in the weak light, sharp-edged and nearly transparent. Collith released me and stepped back. Trying not to appear tentative, I grasped the hilt firmly. I was still unprepared for the weight; it was heavier than it looked. “What am I supposed to do with this?” I demanded, sounding more composed than I felt.
No one said anything. I glanced toward the silent, glittering spectators. Most were staring my way, as expected, but some faces were turned to the water. It hit me, then—I was supposed to go in. Which probably meant something was down there. Waiting. Watching. I turned to Collith and knew I wasn’t hiding anything now. The terror was so overwhelming that I felt seconds away from vomiting.
He shifted as though to grip my shoulders, but his hands fell back to his sides. We had to keep up appearances, after all. No favoritism. Not even towards his mate. “You will survive this, Fortuna. That I can promise,” he said in a low voice.
“How? How can you promise me that?” I hissed, gripping the sword as though it were a lifeline. “Can you see the future?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. Not from anger, the bond told me, but from an unwillingness to answer. More secrets, then. Fine. Fuming, I turned away and faced the eerily still water. “How the hell am I supposed to get down there?”
Polite as ever, Collith gestured to the ledge. “There are indents carved into the rock.”
I stayed where I was, waiting for some kind of sign, a gong or an announcement from the Tongue. But stillness hovered through the underground cavern. Someone giggled. I allowed myself one last glimpse of Damon. I love you, I mouthed. His eyebrows knit together. He looked surprised and pained all at once. Slowly, I faced the darkness.
Well, no time like the present.
Eyes bored into my back as I walked to the edge of the ledge and peered over. Just as Collith had said, there were gaps in the rock, clearly meant to be climbed. Though it was my first instinct to stall, or delay the inevitable, I forced myself to turn around to start the descent. In doing so, my gaze clashed with Collith’s again. However calm he appeared to be, worry vibrated up and down the bond. Not exactly encouraging.
My heart was beating so hard I was certain everyone could hear it. There were no handholds, so I grabbed the edge of each gap with my free hand as I went down. As I fit my feet into each step of the rudimentary ladder, I kept expecting them to be slick, like it would be at a dock. But there were no waves down here and the steps were dry as bones. I reached the water too quickly. There at the bottom, I faltered. Now what?
I craned to see any sort of movement or path. There was a small rock at the center of the pool; it protruded from the surface like a frog’s head. Unless I intended to linger here or in the water—something my instincts shied away from—it seemed to be the only other place to go. Rigid with fear, I lowered myself into the pool as quietly as possible. It was warmer than I thought it would be.
Dad’s voice sounded in my head, remnants of long-ago swimming lessons. Keep your palm flat, Fortuna. Point your fingertips down. Pull straight back as you roll your shoulder.
You try swimming with a heavy sword, I thought at him. He didn’t respond. God, what I would do just to talk to my father for a few seconds.
As I cut through the water, the watching faeries seemed to forget their apprehension. They filled the silence by calling out bets and jeers. I ignored them, which was easy to do in that moment, as I struggled not to drop the sword and get out of the water as soon as possible. I kept expecting something to grab my ankle and yank me under. Nothing happened. A few yards in, I started to think maybe I’d been wrong about the danger.
Halfway to the rock, though, the underground lake began to boil.