We each get a room of our own, which I’m grateful for. Part of me expected I’d be forced to share a room and be put in a position to choose my sleeping companion. At this point, I most likely would have chosen Foxglove over the two other males. I still can’t get over Aspen’s odd behavior in my room before we left. It infuriates me each time I recall how he nearly reached for me before snatching his hand back, as if he couldn’t bear to touch me.
If it isn’t blame over his mother’s death that has him acting in such a way, then is it truly my kiss with Franco? Surely such a misunderstanding isn’t worth this level of disgust on his part. It’s not like I thought I’d ever see my mate again. In fact, I thought he was married when I kissed Franco.Married, for the love of iron.
I pace inside my tiny room at the hotel, teeth clenched. Now that I’m alone, I can let out my irritation, although it doesn’t really get me anywhere. It provides no answers. All I know is before Mother’s trial, I will force Aspen to speak to me, even if it ends with a fight. Maybe a fight would do me good. A fight. A fiery kiss. A final night of reckless passion before I meet my fate.
My fate.
The thought sobers me quickly, and I sit on the narrow yet well-made bed, shoulders slumped with sudden fatigue. The daunting task ahead sets my head spinning. My eyes dart to the single window in the room, one which showcases a view of the sprawling city and smokestacks reaching high into the sky, puffing black smoke.
To the right of my view stands a tall, stone building, its central tower reaching dozens of floors high. The Spire.I remember learning it’s one of the oldest architectural structures in Eisleigh, built as a castle when humans first settled here. Considering its ability to withstand not only the war with the fae but the tests of time, it’s no surprise the building has been converted into a prison. From what I know, the top of the tower hosts the prison cells, while the bottom floor houses the courtrooms. My eyes lock on the highest point of the tower, wishing I knew how my mother fared.
Foxglove has already left for the Spire. Soon he will gather all the information we need. Her courtroom location, her trial time. Meanwhile, Franco will fly to the tallest portion of the building and find my mother.
Then tonight, we infiltrate the prison.
28
Night covers the city streets in a blanket of shadows as we reach the Spire. The bustle of Grenneith has been laid to rest for the evening, save for the occasional shouts of merriment floating on the air from the nearby taverns.
Aspen stalks close to my side while Prince Franco flies overhead in raven form. When we reach the side of the building, Foxglove steps out of the shadows and greets us.
“Everything has been settled,” he says, although the wringing of his hands doesn’t make me feel too confident in his words.
I raise a brow. “Is there anything I should be worried about?”
He sighs. “What’s not to worry about? The iron in this building is making me feel like I’ll melt into a puddle at any moment.”
I’m reminded of how difficult it must be for my companions to be here. Although, Franco seems to have recovered at least partially from his initial response to our arrival. You’d never guess by the smooth motions of his wings that he or his magic was suffering from the city’s ill effects. Aspen too seems to be managing well. It makes me wonder about the power of the two royals compared to fae like Foxglove or Lorelei. Perhaps the stronger fae are less impacted by being so far from the faewall.
“What are the details?” Aspen asks.
“Maven Fairfield’s trial is set for noon tomorrow, the first trial of the day. I was given the location of the courtroom as well. We’ll be able to arrive promptly before it begins.”
“And my mother?” I ask. “Where is she now?”
The black raven begins his descent in slow circles until Prince Franco materializes next to me. He rocks unsteadily on his feet before he catches his bearings. “This place is the worst. I never get dizzy from flying.”
“Where’s Evie’s mother?” Aspen asks, a hint of irritation in his tone.
“Cell block four, room seven,” the prince says. “She’s the only prisoner on that floor and the guards make their rounds on the hour. Once the clock strikes eleven, we’ll wait ten minutes before I fly Evelyn up to the cell block. We’ll be out again before midnight.”
Aspen tenses next to me, while I remain struck by something he said. “What do you mean byfly me up?” I ask.
“I’ll shift into my winged form, but only partially so I maintain my size. Then I’ll carry you up and fly you through the window in the hall outside the cell block. The windows are old and glassless in the tower hall.”
“You’re going to fly. With me. In your...arms.”
“That’s reckless,” Aspen says, taking a forbidding step toward Franco.
Franco meets his glare with a nonchalant grin. “I’ve never dropped anyone yet.”
“There must be another way inside.”
Franco points to the top of the Spire. “You mean, up through the central tower of the building, past several cell blocks, and nothing but a hope that we bypass the guards without notice?”
“What about an invisibility glamour?” I ask.
His eyes widen. “Invisibility glamours are hard enough in Faerwyvae. I can’t maintain one over the both of us in a building filled with iron.”
