The space inside is small, the ground is bare dirt, packed hard, and worn smooth in a path that runs from one side to the other. Three steps. Maybe four. I can see where the earth has been compressed by the passage of feet, back and forth, back and forth.
“That was where the one that took you was kept.” Cowen has moved up beside me. “One of the most valuable stock we’ve ever had. I tried to talk your father out of choosing it for your hunt. The ladies loved it. Very popular.” He clears his throat. “Of course, the king insisted because he wanted the best for you.”
I stare at the cage and imagine Cairn inside it, sleeping on the ground with nothing between him and the earth. Standing at the bars with nothing to look at but other cages. Pacing that worn path, three steps and turn.
How long was he kept here?
“When your father saw it, he said it was perfect. In good health. Strong. Handsome even, in the strange way fae are. Something very special for your birthday. The king wanted it to be memorable.”
Something special. A gift, wrapped in agony, and presented to me.
“Would you like to see how the modifications are done? We have one scheduled for today. I could arrange for you to watch, if you’re curious about the process.”
I turn to look at him. He’s smiling. That same smile he greeted me with when I first arrived for the hunt, when he welcomed me to the Dell and promised me the experience of a lifetime. He’s offering to show me how they torture fae into shapes that please their patrons, and he doesn’t see anything wrong with it. He genuinely doesn’t understand why I’m staring at him like he’s just offered to show me how to flay a child.
“No.” The word comes out sharp enough to make him take a step back. “No. I don’t want to see that.”
His smile falters. “Of course, my lady. I only thought?—”
“I want to go home.”
I push past him without waiting for a response, and stride back toward the courtyard, my legs moving so fast I’m almost running. Brennan catches up and falls into step beside me, but he doesn’t speak. He’s known me for my whole life, and he knows when to stay silent.
The carriage is waiting in the courtyard. Brennan opens the door and helps me inside, then climbs in after me and pulls the door shut. The wheels lurch into motion, and the Dell begins to fall away behind us.
I look down at my hands. At my palm, where the scar cuts a thin white line from the base of my fingers nearly to my wrist. I trace it with one fingertip, remembering the heat of his mouth,the pull of his lips against the wound.
Go home, Alleria. Forget this ever happened.
I turn my hand, press the palm flat against my thigh, and close my eyes.
In my head I can still hear the fae female humming.
I don’t think I’ll ever stop hearing it.
SIXTEEN
CAIRN
Pale light filtersthrough the gaps in the foundation when the Dell begins to awaken.
A door bangs somewhere. Footsteps cross the grain store floor, heavy boots making the boards above my head groan. Dust sifts down and settles on my face. I don’t move. I’ve been lying here all night, perfectly still, listening to the guards change shifts and the night sounds fade into silence.
Now that silence is filling up again. Voices, muffled by wood and distance. The clang of a bucket. Someone coughs, spits, and walks past. The ring of a hammer starts up from the smithy. Horses stamp and snort as stable hands begin their work. A woman laughs, the sound cut short abruptly. A cart creaks across the courtyard. I make note of all of them, my senses finely tuned to direction and distance.
In the corner where two foundation stones meet, a spider has built a web. I’ve been watching it work for hours, adding strand after strand. The web is complete now, intricate and beautiful, and the spider sits at its center, motionless, waiting for its prey.
I could do the same. Stay here like this for days if I needed to.I won’t have to wait that long, though. Tonight, when the Dell goes dark again, I’ll move.
The spider doesn’t stir. Neither do I.
Between one breath and the next, iron bars fill my vision.
The shift is sudden, disorienting. One moment, I’m staring at the web, the next I’m somewhere else entirely. Rust flakes along the edges of the bars where the metal meets the ground. There’s a body behind them, curled on bare earth.
Recognition is instant.
Caelum. One of mine. Quick-witted, light-footed, always the first to spot danger and the last to fall back from it. I remember him laughing around a campfire the night before the Sealing, making jokes about the humans we’d face. He’d wagered he’d kill more than Therin when the battle came. Therin said he’d take that bet.
