Picking a fight with any Fata was foolish, but then again, Rane had started the fight, and she had finished it. Not only that, but standing up for herself did feel good.
Caynin downed his wine as if it were fruit juice. Zoey thought it was somewhat early to drink but said nothing.
“You really should eat,” he encouraged.
She sat down again, and the sight of the food made her mouth water. She was going to live here for the rest of her life, wasn’t she? If so, she needed nutrition, but when she noticed the bacon, eggs, and toast – normal food, not some fancy faerie stuff – she frowned.
“What’s wrong?” Caynin asked.
“I just didn’t expect Fata food to be so…human.”
Caynin sipped his wine. “We fled Erken. There wasn’t exactly time to pack a picnic basket. We adapted our lifestyle once we moved here.”
Hesitantly, she reached for one of the apples and bit into its sweet flesh. Caynin watched curiously with his beautiful blue eyes.
“What?” she asked.
“Fata taste earthly things differently than humans do,” he explained – a reminder that they were also not sensitive to weather.
“What do apples taste like to you?” She took another bite.
He smiled gently. “I’m sure they taste much better when you eat them.”
She wanted to ask him what he meant by that but then a servant Fata entered the room carrying a tray with glasses and a flask of water. As she approached, she slipped and fell. The glasses shattered, and the water spilled over the floor.
Zoey was on her feet in a moment and made her way over to the female. She reached out so that she could help the female up. The servant took one look at her hand and hissed defiantly. Zoey dropped her hand to her side and looked at Caynin. He made no indication to help either of them. Instead of returning to the table, Zoey headed for the door.
“Zoey, come back,” he said.
She had a feeling any of his Fata would have listened, but she was not his property, and she was not going to do everything he said. She left, feeling his eyes on her. She headed down the halls, into the frozen gardens, and once she left the castle, she noticed Caynin trailing her. He made no attempt to hide himself or speak.
With the cold threatening to freeze her, she kept her hands in her pockets, but there was nothing she could do about her cold legs and feet. She walked and walked and walked, until the snow turned to flowers, and only stopped when she stood in front of the row of mushrooms. The border.
Caynin stopped behind her. “I wish I could tell what you are thinking.”
She kept her back turned to him and looked straight ahead of her, at the road and the houses across. “I’m thinking of going home.”
“You’ll die,” he reminded her.
“I’m going to die here in the Everwhite Kingdom anyway,” she said.
He opened his mouth as if to remind her that he said he’d protect her, but she beat him to it. “You can keep me physically safe, but mentally I’d go insane. Everyone in the castle hates me – no one respects me. I’d be so miserable if I stayed.”
Zoey had lived a happy, comfortable life with her parents. The most horrifying thing that ever happened was, by far, Violet getting sick. She’d been raised too gentle, too safe, too trusting for this violent, deceptive, brutal Fata world.
Caynin drew a deep breath, and she lifted her foot to cross the border. He snaked out his hand, closed it around her wrist, and pulled her back. There was a moment where she thought he would forcefully drag her back to the castle with him, but then he released her.
“There is something else about the curse that you need to know,” he said.
“What is it?’
“If you cross the border line, your family will share your curse.”
“What?”
“It won’t be long until it kills all of you.”
Zoey gaped at him. His voice was calm, and he looked into her eyes as he spoke. He had no reason to lie to her. She almost started crying but managed to pull herself together.
“I really can’t go back,” she realized.
“I am sorry.” There was something, soft as a snowflake, in his eyes.
“My family,” she said. “They are going to want to know what happened to me. They are going to start searching. I’m going to put them through hell!”
“I can fix that,” Caynin said.
“How?”
He reached out to gently touch her cheek, and she let him. “Just trust me.”
He was asking a lot, but what other choice did she have?
***
They were returning to the castle when a thought struck Zoey. “Caynin, what did Rane mean when he said he would not respect me even if I passed the Three Trials?”
Caynin hesitated in a way that suggested that he did not want to answer her. “Most Fata look down on humans. They don’t respect them because they’re seen as weak and inferior. If a human wants to be respected and granted one wish, he or she can volunteer for the Worthy Trials. The Worthy Trials are three tasks which can be given to the human anytime, anywhere, with or without the human’s knowledge. If the human survives and passes the trials, they have earned the Fata’s respect and will be granted a single wish.”
“Has anyone ever completed the trials?” Zoey asked.
“Yes, but the last one who survived them was more than a decade ago,” Caynin answered.
“I want to do them.”
“I was afraid that you’ll say that,” he responded.
He was walking behind Zoey, and when she stopped, he bumped into her. Zoey knew that it was deliberate. As a Fata he had super-fast reflexes and would have been able to stop before bumping against her.
“Oops,” he said as she turned around to face him. He was smiling at her again.
“I’m serious,” she said.
He rolled his eyes, and his smile disappeared. “Did you not pay attention? Most humans don’t survive the trials.”
“But if I do, I will have the Fata’s respect. Then living here would not be that hard.”
“You can live a luxurious life here,” Caynin told her. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“You can’t give me respect or friends.” She wiped at her freezing legs and noticed how low Caynin’s eyes dipped.
“I’ll think about it.” He pushed past her.
Zoey knew her next words were risky. “If you won’t help me, I’ll tell Rane I want to do the trials.”
Rane, who so desperately wanted her dead, would surely help her do these dangerous trials. When Caynin turned around, there was no trace of humor on his face.
“You and your threats,” he said coldly.
“Try to see this from my point of view,” she urged him. His moods changed dangerously quick, making him an extremist. One minute he was hot, the next cold.
Caynin sniffed the air, and she could tell he was no longer focused on their conversation.
“What is it?”
His eyes met hers intently as he said, “Death.”
He changed course, and Zoey followed him like a puppy despite her growing terror. Caynin did not look scared – and that reassured her that everything was going to be alright. But Caynin was powerful and capable of protecting himself. Zoey wasn’t. If danger struck, would he keep his word and protect her?
The flowers had turned to ice again as they neared the castle. Caynin stopped, and Zoey clumsily walked into him. She was about to mutter an apology when she saw the corpse and clasped her hands over her mouth to stifle a scream. A female Fata lay in the grass, her dress torn, and her skin a pale gray and cracked like an old wall. Her eyes were wide open but sunk into her skull. Her lips were parted as if she wanted to scream. Her body looked unnaturally frail and thin and was partially covered by snow.
“She is Nyla,” Zoey realized as she recalled Inga, the Fata at the wine market, asking about her sister. “The Enerly you’ve been looking for, isn’t she?”
Caynin nodded solemnly, and he went closer to the body. Zoey assumed it was not the first dead Fata he had seen in his lifetime. He had been alive a long time – what terrible things had he endured? He examined the Fata, unalarmed and calm. What had he survived to react that way?
“What happened to her?” Zoey felt uneasy. Her stomach turned, and she hoped she would not throw up.
“It must have been the Slaerie.”
Zoey understood that they did not have any enemies here other than the Slaerie. She could not understand why humans would want to kill the Fata. Clearly, the Fata lived peacefully, away from the humans, and minded their own business.
“Why is her skin so gray?” she wondered as she observed the body. The body was gray, like a stormy sky. Her hair was white and her skin wrinkled. She looked so old…
Caynin crouched so that he could have a better look. A worried frown wrinkled his forehead. “She died, and the energy, magic, left her body,” he explained. “This is what is remains afterward.”
Sadness was evident in his eyes. Had he known Nyla personally? Had he cared about her? She stepped closer to him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. She squeezed gently, to let him know she was there if he needed her. He turned his shoulder so he could see her, and for a moment she thought he was going to push her away. Was he not used to comfort?
“I’ll take her home.” He scooped Nyla into his arms as if she were a doll.
Zoey kept beside him, and they walked the rest of the way in silence. They arrived at the castle, and Fata turned to look at the corpse he was carrying. Caynin was clearly desperate to get Nyla out of sight, so he laid her body in one of the nearby vacant rooms. Fata were immortal, and thus they did not have a morgue.
Zoey stayed close to him, although the Fata did not pay her much attention. Once he and Zoey were out of the room, he said, “I have to find Rane.”
“Rane can wait,” said a woman with a cunning voice.
Zoey looked to her left to see a gorgeous woman standing between the ice-sculpted flowers in the gardens. A smile played on her silver-painted lips, her eyes were purple and matched her elegant dress. Her black hair reached her knees, and there was something about her presence that made Zoey want to fade away into nothing.
Caynin’s spine stiffened, and he said, “Hello, Queen Valeska.”