I came to an abrupt halt. I felt sick at the thought, but I had to see them. “Show me.”
He hesitated. “And then you’ll work hard for me?”
I gave him a withering look. “I don’t want to die in the Trials. Even though it’s tempting sometimes, to escape you.”
His lips quirked. “All right.”
He led me down more hallways dug out of stone and earth. At one point, windows opened up to the sea, and when I stopped and looked out, white-capped waves slapped the rocks just below us. I stopped for a second in wonder, tasting the salt air on my lips.
Fieran was studying me. “You never saw the sea until you came here.”
“I know, I’m an ignorant mortal, it’s so amusing.”
“It’s impressive how you always hear an insult,” he observed as we continued walking down the roughly-chiseled hallway. Lines of mica glowed within the rock, brightening the dim light as we left the windows behind. “Believe me, I am perfectly capable of mocking you if I want you to feel insulted.”
“Perhaps I just hear them because I’m always thinking rude thoughts aboutyou,” I retorted.
That earned me a grin that was slow, wicked, and entirely deliberate. Heat crawled up my neck, and I looked away quickly before he could see it.
The next retort withered on my tongue when he led me through a wide stone archway.
The air shifted—colder, heavier, carrying a faint metallic tang. I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the dim light. Rows upon rows of cages stretched before us, each separated by thick bars that glowed faintly with runes. The space seemed endless, disappearing into shadow.
The nearest cage held something massive, its hide glistening like wet obsidian. Its chest rose and fell in slow rhythm, as though asleep. Farther down, something with too many wings twitched in its slumber, the faint rustle of feathers scraping against metal. A low, almost-human whimper echoed from somewhere in the dark.
“They’re sleeping or suspended,” he told me, quiet and serious now. “Sometimes they dream, and we hear them. Roaring. Screeching. Screaming, perhaps. But they can’t harm you.”
“And if they wake?”
“We are below sea level. So the zoo can be flooded, if need be.” He sounded grim. “I would hate it if it were ever needed.”
I tore my gaze from the cages and studied him instead. The stern set of his mouth, the weight in his eyes. “Even though you would’ve killed them, if you hadn’t been forced to bring them here?”
“Killing to save a life is different than this,” he said after a pause, his tone quiet but firm. His gaze swept over the creatures again, something almost sorrowful in it. “This feels like punishment. For all of us.”
For a moment, thick silence stretched between us.
Then he turned from the railing, slipping back into thateffortless command that always grated against my nerves. “Come on. You need to learn to defend yourself.”
I blinked. “Againstthem?”
A ghost of amusement flickered across his mouth. “Well, you already have. But let’s start a little smaller.”
He started walking, and I followed, the echo of my boots chasing his near-silent steps down the corridor. Behind us, one of the sleeping creatures let out a long, shuddering breath that sounded almost like a sigh.
Even when we stepped back into the sunlight-dappled hall, I could still feel the rumble of it in my bones.
Twenty-Two
The air grew warmer, tinged with the scent of earth and growing things. We passed arched doorways, each leading to rooms half collapsed or tunnels choked with roots and crystal.
“How big is this place?” I asked.
“You’ll know it all in a year or two,” he promised.
Then, suddenly, the corridor opened into something vast and luminous.
It looked like a temple that had been claimed by the wild growth that surrounded the Fae. Ivy ribboned its way up stone pillars, and flowering vines choked the walls in cascades of pale blossoms. Pools of water mirrored the faint glow from crystals embedded in the ceiling.
