Tate didn’t answer, pursing his lips when the blade pressed enough to sting, shaking his head.
“The punishment for death is death. Rarely happens, because the Winterkindoknow their place. And do you happen to know what the punishment is for death in the orgies of Summer? Hmm?” Tate glared as Cadoc smiled brightly, humming when his question went unanswered, continuing easily. “Death. The punishment for death in Summer is death.”
Another wide smile, teeth like daggers, the blade tip twisting slightly. “And can you guess, beloved, what the punishment for death is in Spring?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Let me take a fucking stab at it. Could it be . . . death?”
Cadoc beamed. “It’s not. It’stwodeaths. The Court of Flowers does nothing but borrow beyond what they can afford, and their greed demands interest. They must pay the balance twice, to make amends to the harvest. And do you have any idea what the punishment for death is here in Autumn, Tate?”
At that, he froze. Tate could count on probably one hand how many times his name had been used at the Bonfire Court. Hisgrandsire had raged that in addition to his Orcish blood, he’d not even been given the benefit of an old Elvish name, one that would have come directly from their own histories. His name had been verboten at court as a result, and it was the way Tate preferred it. His name belonged to him and him alone.
Hearing it now, from this bastard’s lips, was the only thing he could have done to freeze Tate where he stood.Which was why he used it at all.
“Death?” he answered at last, when it was clear an answer was expected.
That wide smile once more, cheerful and benign, if one could overlook the teeth. “No, my darling one. There is no punishment for death here. Can you take a guess at why?” When Tate remained silent, Cadoc seemed happy enough to finish. “Because this is the Court of Death. The Court of Abundance. We have too much, and it is a mercy to cull the numbers. You would do well to remember that, dear heart. You overvalue your importance. A toy she has not yet decided whether she intends to keep or break. You are an accessory and nothing more, one who would not be missed, on this sideorthe other. And you are playing a very dangerous game.”
At that, Tate had stiffened. “Youforced me to play it the day you brought me here. Or did you forget how I became your problem to mind? Sounds to me like you’ve created your own issues, errand boy.”
He was brought to court to be an heir.
He wasmeantto be the beloved grandson of an Elvish goldsmith and his wife. He wasmeantto be a barman, to live in the world where the sun moved across the sky; he wasmeantto marry the most beautiful elf in the world, one he’d love until the stars fell into the sea.
Buthere, in this wretched fucking forest, he was meant to be an heir. That was the point in all this. Heir apparent to thethrone of Autumn, ripped from his family and presented to the Bonfire Queen as a gift, an heir secured to hold their power, one that every court possessed. But he had come a generation too late, had arrived ruined with orc blood, and was lucky he’d not been killed as a child when they’d first collected him as repayment for that long-ago coin.
Tate suspected Cadoc had simply changed his mind. Why plan for a future dynasty when one could simply rule forever, keeping all of Faerie bent to his cruelty?
“Oh, but you followed willingly enough, sweetling.”
The blade had been removed, but the words were enough to keep Tate in place, frozen.
“Or do you prefer to skip that page in the story? Easier to confuse the villain that way. I didn’t even need to bring you by force. So if ever you grow confused over how you came to join us, beloved, I would be happy to provide a mirror to assist in your instruction.”
There were voices not far, just around the hallway, and when he jerked away roughly, Cadoc did not prevent it.
Huntsmen, Tate saw immediately, feeling his pulse kick up several notches at the implication.Ready the hounds. Still. He had prevented him from bringing her here. Hated what he’d had to do to make it so, but the ends were all the justification he needed at the moment. He had prevented them from turning her into quarry. He could survive whatever came next.
“Prepare yourself for the hunt, sweetling,” Cadoc called to his back, voice ringing with near laughter. “I suspect we shall both be a part of this night’s games. You did faresowell the last time you were included. We shall see if your luck continues.”
Favoreddid not meansafe. Tate leaned against the wall, forcing himself to breathe. Perhaps, he admitted, he ought to have formed a more concrete plan.Fucking faeries. He’d lost track of his setbacks by then. Holding the watch to his ear,he closed his eyes and breathed.Tick, tick, tick.He could not survive the hunt a second time, but neither could he hide from it.
Not when the forest was bleeding time, and he was still so far away from her.
Silva
There was a saying about never truly being able to return home again.
Silva wasn’t sure if she had understood it previously.
When she had returned to Cambric Creek after school, after her gap year, she had been able to settle almost completely into the same little niche in which she had always existed. Her comfortable position in the world, a safe reliability in knowing exactly where she belonged. Her world had been small and its boundaries rigid, tested by time and enforced by the rules of their community, both spoken and unspoken.
Cevanorë changed for her forever after that weekend trip to Greenbridge Glen. The boundaries of her neat little existence had been tested, stretched, and rearranged. It was the first time she had ever seriously considered a life off her carefully planned roadmap, and it had changed everything.
And now, coming back to the area for the first time since she had left it for good, it had changed further still. This was the first time she had been back in Bridgeton since she had left CambricCreek, and Silva felt as though she were seeing the city with fresh eyes, as though it were all brand new.
This was a very nice but entirely commonplace hotel for Bridgeton, with half a dozen hotels of identical luxury on this same block, nothing overtly posh or exclusive about it. Now she understood it would have been the height of opulence in the city she now called home, and Tannar’s mother would have been agog.It’s a good thing you didn’t have a wedding, can you imagine? Nana would have had the vapors the entire time. You reallyarea snob. Oh well, not my fault. That’s just the lion’s den they raised me in.
The heavy gold doors had already been pulled open for her before her feet hit the sloped, red carpeted entryway, the doorman tipping his hat. Her heels clicked across the glossy marble surface of the hotel’s entryway as another porter bowed slightly, his open arm silently directing her toward reception. She gave the man a brilliant smile, following the direction in which he’d gestured . . . Bypassing it entirely, knowing there was a restroom just a bit further down the corridor.
