“Good,” is all Malice says.
49
AERIN
Vitus pulls Aerin inside before she can think of an alternative. The doors shut behind them with a loud thud. As soon as the doors are closed, sconces above them light, a flickering illumination that only reaches portions of the space. The areas lit are few and the shadows deep.
As they make their way down the hall, magically barred doorways come into view. Aerin tries not to look inside. Tries her best to keep her gaze straight ahead down the never-ending hallway, hoping that Vitus doesn’t plan to stuff her into one of these cells.
“I remember, when you were here as a Faeling,” Vitus begins catching Aerin off guard.
“You do?” The words slip out. It was years ago, nearly thirty now. Her family traveled from Valtara to Zeneith on foot. She remembers some parts of the trip vividly. Aerin plays with the ring on her index finger.
The King pats her hand. “Of course, my dear. That’s how I knew…” Vitus trails off. Anxiety swirls in Aerin’s stomach. “I showed you my collection then. Do you recall?” Aerin does. Sheremembers a shadow creature made of darkness. One who gave her the ring she never removes.
Vitus Hale collects creatures, holds them against their will, and displays them like some macabre museum. As they approach another cell, Aerin understands what she is doing here.
The interior of the cell is magically altered to appear like the forest around Zeneith. An Elf sits inside. Elves are known to be beautiful creatures, thin and small, only a few feet tall with long fingers and toes, long pointed ears. The Elf inside has blue skin the color of the sea. Her eyes match. They dig into Aerin with a sadness so palpable, she feels like she might choke.
The Elf wears the same collar all of Vitus’s creatures wear—one made of ice that does not melt, does not chill. At her throat, it forms a sharp V that dips into the hollow between her clavicles.
“This is Kaja. I found her on an expedition to the Hannan Mountains. Cerulean blue. A rare, rare find,” Vitus says. “Say hello Kaja,” he addresses the Elf.
“Hello.” Her voice is melodic. Vitus turns to Aerin and smiles, proud and gleaming and sick.
He pulls Aerin to the next cell.
This one is larger. Aerin knows why immediately.
“Felix,” Vitus calls in a sing song. The Troll turns his massive head. He is from the West; Aerin can tell by the flowers that bloom up and down his green arms.
“Master!” the Troll calls excitedly. He stands and lumbers to the cell wall. Vitus sends a swirl of snowflakes into the cell that gently rustle Aerin and the Troll. Felix laughs, falling onto his haunches to play with the snowflakes that swirl between his fingers.
“I found Felix when he was only a tiny little thing,” Vitus says. Aerin, temporarily at ease by the Troll’s happy appearance,feels sick again. What Vitus means is that he kidnapped the Troll as an infant.
They continue on and on. Vitus introduces her to dozens of creatures, all sentient, like her. All with a collar around their necks. All held prisoner below the home of a mad king.
“Aren’t they impeccable?” Vitus says as they finally reach the end of the hall. They never passed the creature Aerin remembers from her first time in these dungeons many years ago. She can’t say she’s surprised—not much survives long in the hands of Vitus Hale—but she is disappointed. She spins her ring again.
“Stunning,” Aerin agrees through her teeth.
“I knew you would think so. From when I met you as a girl, I knew you would understand me, Aerin Tolvare,” Vitus says. Aerin keeps her eyes on the floor in front of her as they walk back up the hallway. She can’t bear to see any of the creatures again.
“Even now, you come to my home with the beginnings of a collection of your own,” Vitus muses. Aerin’s blood freezes in her veins.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” Aerin says carefully.
They are almost halfway back, if only she can get to the doors, this can be done. She can feign fatigue or hunger or anything to get them to the dinner. Out of here.
Vitus chuckles. “Oh, come now, I promise I won’t steal them.” Aerin forces her body to stay loose and relaxed as Vitus pulls her forward, his arm still wrapped through hers. “Quite a start though. Vipers, a Wolf, and even a Dragon-Fae? Somehow all loyal to you. I will admit, I am jealous of the prowess you possess. I was never charming enough to convince them to stay of their own accord.”
Fear and disgust fill her in equal measures.
“Yes, well, it takes a certain touch,” Aerin placates.
Vitus pauses, and it feels abrupt in contrast to their constant movement since entering this hall. Remaining arm in arm, Aerin is almost yanked back by his still body. He gazes into a cage. It’s empty as far as Aerin can tell.
“Now this… This one was special.” Vitus sighs, lifting his free hand to press it flat against the clear wall of magic. He seems lost in thought or memory, reminiscing about whatever creature used to be trapped here. Vitus swings his gaze to look at Aerin, his eyes probing.
