I’m body checked again from the side when I stumble, and I bite back the nasty words I want to let loose. I want to snap at them to hold their fucking horses for a second until I’m no longer blind, but aside from the guy who took off my chains, I don’t get the impression that any of them have much of a compassionate side. I bite my tongue, but I can’t quite swallow down the growl that bubbles up my throat. The lead guard looks back at me, seemingly amused by the sound, which of course just makes me growl even more.
“Keep purring, little kitten, it’s music to our ears,” he jeers.
I glare at him but tell myself not to engage. No good will come from pissing off someone who I might be dealing with for who knows how long. Yeah, I’m being taken to the Syta, but what happens after that? The cat-loving asshole could be my warden for all I know at this point—or my future torturer. I swallow down the bile that creeps up the back of my throat at that thought. What happens if I can’t pull this off and they don’t believe me?
What Zeph and Ryn put me through in order to interrogate me blazes forward in my mind. I shiver. I hope it doesn’t get worse than that. I push those thoughts away and try to distract myself with my surroundings.
People move here and there, each of their strides filled with purpose as they make their way to some predetermined destination. No one pays me and my escorts much attention as I’m taken from a dungeon-bound hallway through a cavernous corridor. I’m surrounded by what looks like crystal and iron. The floor is the same cream stone that comprised the cliff castle, but the walls here are transparent. At first I think it’s glass, but I quickly realize it must be something else. The clear surface is smooth like glass, but there’s an unusual sparkle to it, and prisms dance in the corners of the massive translucent panes. Through the windowed walls, I can see crystalline high-rises all around us and a sliver of water between two large buildings.
It’s like I’m staring at some kind of bejeweled city, and I’m not sure what to make of any of it. Unusual shaped towers of varying heights glisten and sparkle in the sun. It’s so incredibly foreign and fantastical that I find myself feeling more lost than ever. Frustration surges through me that I was knocked out when I was brought here. How the fuck am I supposed to get my bearings or understand where I am now in relation to where I was? My head swings around like a pendulum as I try to take everything in. I spot a few gryphons flying through open crystal-like windows, but not nearly as many of them soaring about as there were in the Eyrie.
My guard stops suddenly.
I’m so busy paying attention to my surroundings that I almost run into the back of the large shifter. A boom sounds on the other side of the closed entrance, and the tall iron doors in front of us slowly split. They groan ominously as they’re opened, and fear and uncertainty surge through me. I take a deep breath and search for some of the brave I know I have tucked away somewhere inside me.
“Miss you, Pidge,”I lament.
I can’t help but send a silent plea to her for strength, even though I know it will go unanswered. I’m ushered inside of a room that makes me feel even more like I’ve landed in the middle of some kind of fairy tale city. The walls are the same iron bordered crystal, and they reach up several stories high to dome above me. The room is easily the size of a football field and a half, and I’m tempted to scream outechoand listen to my voice bounce back to me over and over again. The clear walls to my side have some kind of magical fountain, and water pours tranquilly down them to collect in narrow lily pad covered pools below. Lotuses in every color imaginable bloom on the surface of the thin pools, and I catch sight of what I think is a fairy flitting from flower to flower.
I’ve never seen a fairy before, and I can’t seem to tear my eyes from it. I can barely make out the flit of wings; beyond that, it looks like a ball of light bouncing around the plants and water like it’s tending to them. I scan the rest of the magical waterfalls and pools, but I don’t spot any other little balls of light.
There’s no one else in here other than the group of guards around me and some other sentries standing here and there. I look around in awe, and I can’t get over the magical feel saturating this place. It reminds me of an echo of something I felt in Vedan when I sat with Nadi in the overgrown gazebo. There, it was like I was feeling the loss of something, but here, I’m overwhelmed by how alive it all feels.
The iron and crystal surrounding me has an industrial look to it, and yet it merges seamlessly with the touches of nature and the magic sprinkled throughout the space. The details in this room look like they shouldn’t fit together, but something about their essence feels the same, oddly enough.
I’m led deeper into the space until I’m standing almost at the far end of the long room, in front of several bulky, high-backed thrones. They appear to be made of the softest looking moss I’ve ever seen, and I have to fight the urge to step forward several feet and touch it. Really, I want to go full cat and rub all over it, but that’s a level of weird I doubt these people are up for.
I look down and discover that the guards have stopped me just shy of a rug that’s all grass. It looks like a living rug, and there are these delicate little purple flowers that trim the edges on every side.
Long black hair and blue eyes flash through my mind, and I try to blink away the image of the shifter that liked to call me flower. The feel of the knife in my hand when I held it to his throat comes to me unbidden. I’m sure wherever he is, he’s not thinking of me as some sweet purple bloom anymore.
The guards all around me are silent as death, but out of nowhere, they straighten, standing a little taller and a hell of a lot stiffer. That slight movement is the only indication I get that something is happening. Quietly, people slowly pour into the room single file and take a seat in the soft mossy thrones. Women in barely-there dresses sit demurely, their eyes trained on the chair in the middle. Some old and wizened males enter, and I automatically peg them as the brains of this line up. They’re followed by younger, muscled, and armor-clad males who I mark as the brawn.
My eyes narrow as I watch Ryn file in and claim a seat on the far left. How is he Hidden when he’s clearly some kind of leader or royal here? He smirks at me, and before I can stop it, another growl starts up in my chest, and I take a step forward. The guards in front of me tense and move to block my advance.
Get a fucking grip, Falon. How about we don’t invite a death sentence straight out of the gate.
Deep rumbling laughter fills the room, bouncing around the crystal surfaces and slowly getting absorbed by the greenery. A large chuckling shifter enters, his long straight white hair flowing behind him, and his smile accentuating the dimple in his chin. He looks familiar somehow, which doesn’t make much sense. He has one blue eye and one purple eye, and they’re filled with amusement as he takes me in.
Where the fuck do I know him from?
“What’s so funny, little brother?” another male asks as he follows the laugher in.
This male has light gray hair with white streaks in it. It falls just to his shoulders, thick and arrow straight. His aqua-colored eyes watch the amused face of the male he called little brother.There’s a cunning glint in his green-blue eyes, and it almost feels like he’s hunting the male who I think looks familiar as he confidently strolls to the throne in the middle and sits down. So this must be the Syta.
The leader of the Avowed doesn’t pay me any attention as he settles in and adjusts his soft cream-colored tunic. Oddly, all eyes—except for apparently his little brother’s—are fixed on him as if they’re not allowed to look anywhere else until they’ve been given permission.
I don’t know what to think of his arrival. I expected maybe an announcement or more fanfare involved in the entrance of the King of the Avowed. Instead, he just walks in casually as if whatever is about to happen is business as usual. What do I know, maybe it is. I realize I’m still growling quietly, and I immediately work to swallow it down.
Shit.Nice first impression, Falon. Just growl the whole time the leader enters.
I internally face palm and hope he doesn’t take it personally.
“Sorry, brother, it couldn’t be helped,” the familiar male I still can’t place starts. “I found our guest’s response to the Commander amusing. It seems she doesn’t take kindly to being rendered unconscious,” he adds, his mismatched eyes sparkling as if he’s letting me in on some inside joke.
Whatever it is, I don’t get it, and I study him for a beat as I try to solve the puzzle. Is he secretly Hidden too? No, that can’t be it. I would have remembered another Ouphe tainted gryphon aside from me and Ami. Especially another white-haired and purple-eyed highborn looking person like me in the Eyrie. Ami’s face flares in my mind. I hope he’s okay. I wonder what he and Tysa think about my leaving. Maybe I should have taken the time to say goodbye. Guilt stirs inside of me, but I push it away to deal with later. I focus on the row of moss covered thrones and try to figure out which one of them is the friendly lie detector-slash-seer that Ryn said would be present.
“Shall we get started?” the Syta asks, finally done primping and settling into his throne. His tone sounds bored, and I don’t know if I should be offended or worried by that.
