He stops, blinking nonplussed. “Weren’t you paying attention?”
“Why are you trainingus? We’re enemies. I thought we were going to … I don’t know, be enslaved or something?”
“And you volunteered for that?” His head tilts, and it strikes me with painful awareness that he’s not a man at all, but something more. Something worse. He has the beauty of a god and is nearly as dangerous. He grins wickedly. “Let me guess. You thought if you got Selected, you’d be let over the Wall and then just … find a way to elude us? To find your missing family in a totally foreign land? You really don’t think much of immortals if you thought it’d be that easy.”
“What choice did you leave me?” I hiss through my teeth, “Everyone I loved was taken by you people.”
He wears the epitome of boredom on his features. Ignoring the emotion blazing in my eyes, he straightens his wrinkleless shirt. “You seem to enjoy lumping us all together. But your scent isn’t anything I recognize. So, tell me, Rune, did thedruidsever choose someone you love?”
“The elves and the seraphs—”
“Are not druids,” he finishes for me. He shakes his head. “Humans like to pretend the Selection is random. It makes iteasier. But the truth is we all have our own qualifications for who we take. With druids? We pick people with no one in the mortal realm left to mourn them.”
Blood rushes out of my face, leaving me shifting on my feet.
“And those who avoid the Selection? Would they be put here, too?”
“Your mother isn’t here.” His lip curls. “Selection deserters are considered undesirable, untrainable.” His gaze travels my face meticulously. “Be glad no one seemed to realize you deserted, too.”
“Is that a threat?” I don’t take those lightly.
“Observational skills.” The prince releases the door handle, wings spreading wider at his back. “If I were threatening you, there wouldn’t be a question.”
“Where is she?” The words blurt from me in the face of his cold disdain. I want answers. “She avoided Selection, and you took her—”
“Itook? I recall doing no such thing.”
I hate the spark that brightens those eyes. He enjoys this, fucking with me. He’s jealous I was chosen for this stupid card, too, I can see it written all over his privileged face, and although I’d bet that he hates me, it’s nowhere close to how I feel about him.
“I spared your brother from another choice on his little conscience. All I ask is where she is. Give me that much.” I clench my jaw in the face of my nemesis and his eyes narrow, lip curling.
“Well, you provided my brother a traitorous kindness, and I did the same for you and your little … trinket. So, I’d say we’re even.” Yet he doesn’t retreat to his room, nor use his magic. Instead, he lingers, gripping that handle, like he can’t quite make himself go.
I push. “Tell me, and you won’t have to watch over your shoulder for more flying vases.” I don’t know what makes me think he’d even listen. Maybe it’s his hesitation.
“Is that a promise?”
“It’s a deal.”
His gaze travels the length of me. Chewing his lip, he comments, “All those who avoid the Selection are sent to the Destarion, the prison of No Realms. Last I’d heard any who survived that abstention were sold to the elves.”
My heart drops. Clenching my eyes and jaw tight, I force myself to take a deep breath and then ask, “What becomes of them?”
The last dregs of hope shred in my chest as he shrugs. He picks at his cuticles with his thumb. “Usually nothing pleasant. But I’ll remind you that you’re bound to this realm; you can’t just leave.” He chews his lip but then adds, “You’d be better off applying yourself to this new life. A better one, surely, than whatever you left behind.”
“You have no idea what I’ve left behind,” I growl.
“Enough to beg for something that could’ve been far worse.” His gaze narrows as he looks me over head to toe. “Stop carrying them with you.”
He wouldn’t understand. I can’t believe I came all this way and chose to be Selected … on a fool’s dream. None of them are here, and now I’m stuck in this realm for eternity.
My nails bite into my palms as I search for any lie, any trick in his words. “You said only those unmissed were Selected. What about that child?”
“An orphan. They all were.” He yanks open his door, and I watch, my wretched heart drowning in hopelessness, as he enters but he halts, turning back to me. “Gone by five. Don’t try to kill me,” he reminds me viciously, andsnicksthe door shut in my face.
I march over to my own, slamming it and locking it tightly. Not that it’ll matter. With all that magic, I doubt a door would stop him. But it eases me a little. I cross over to the shared bathroom and lock it, too. I change into a simple silk set of pajamas and crawl into bed. A lamp takes up most of the space on the bedside table, not lit by oil or candlelight. It’s bright and warm, lighting cascades from a strange, orb-like object inside it. More magic.
It’s comforting, even if it’s the only thing that is.
