Timur wasn’t generally forthcoming with information, but he’d been replying to some of my questions and even elaborating on some. I wondered if I could learn more about him if I keptpushing, but I wasn’t sure how much more I really wanted to know.
He’d never even asked my name, addressing me simply as “Joy Vessel.” He treated me as his property, a precious one maybe, but still only a thing not a person. If it helped him keep his distance from me, then I should probably do the same.
The chair kept moving at a swift pace, and I hardly even noticed as we reached the end of the path. The view up here caught my breath once again. It truly felt like standing at the end of the world, gazing out into the dark ocean below.
“What an eerie place,” I said softly.
“Most avoid it,” Timur replied. “Only the rejects end up here, with no other place to go.”
“Why?”
“Shadow fae detest the ocean. It’s too chaotic, unpredictable, and often dangerous. Day storms are not as frequent as they are in the desert, but when they come, they often bring thunder and even rain.”
“Why is rain bad?”
“Because it’s wet,” he said matter-of-factly, making me laugh.
I stopped laughing abruptly, realizing this was the first time I’d found something funny in a very long time.
“Rain is free water, good for drinking, which is great,” Timur continued. “But not all rain water can be collected. It gets everywhere, leaking through the roofs and flooding the caves. They also say that every now and then, the ocean comes ashore in a Big Wave in Ashgate. When it happened last time, about fifty years ago, all the lower caves flooded, and the briny water didn’t recede for days or even weeks. As hostile as desert can be, shadow fae by far prefer dry land to the ocean shore.”
He kept saying “shadow fae” not “we,” as if he didn’t count himself as part of his people. Or maybe they weren’t really his people? When it came to Timur, I still felt very confused.
Meanwhile, there I was, sitting on his lap, snuggling into his chest with my head on his shoulder and his arm around my waist. And I had to admit, it didn’t feel so bad. Warm and comfortable, my muscles relaxed. I didn’t even mind him resting his chin on top of my head earlier while we were ascending the path. With the chair tilted back, it must’ve been easier for him to tip his head forward and prop his chin on my head.
Even as his chair came back into its usual position, I still kept my head on his shoulder. I might not have climbed all the way up this cliff, but the journey had exhausted me nevertheless. Hunger and dehydration had weakened me, and I felt content letting Timur and his chair transport me across the sand dunes now.
Drowsy, I almost dozed off, forgetting all about our final destination until Timur said softly.
“Here we are.”
Five
Elaine
Illuminated by torches, the sprawling tent of gold, orange, and green silk sparkled with light and color like a fairy tale palace among the black sand dunes.
“Wait,” I stopped Timur as we approached. “I should get off now.”
I climbed from his lap. Standing on my own two feet made me feel more prepared to deal with whatever waited for me inside.
Four guards exited the tent. I noted the multiple swords and daggers on each of them and glanced at Timur.
“It’s just dinner, right?” I confirmed once again.
“Yes. That’s the agreement. Nothing else beyond that is allowed,” he said firmly, as if he had the power to enforce this agreement with someone who had armed guards at their disposal.
Still, the unshakable confidence in his voice made me feel a little better as I crossed the threshold and entered the tent.
The most wonderful, magical scents hit my nostrils—the smell of coffee and food. My gaze immediately found the source of all that goodness. A wide, low table stood on the rug in the middle of the spacious tent. Some of the dishes were covered with brass domes that glimmered in the candlelight of a gold candelabrum. Others remained uncovered, beguiling me with the sight of ripe fruit and golden-crusted pastries.
Two shadow fae women stood on each side of the table, with the top layer of their shimmering gossamer skirts pinned to their long hair as per the desert fashion.
The third woman reclined in the colorful silk cushions placed on the floor between me and the table. She gave me a quick glance, then wrinkled her nose, and brought the end of her black-and-orange skirt to her nose.
“Human smell can be so overwhelming,” she murmured to herself, but it came out loud enough for me to hear.
I couldn’t argue with her. She was right. I hadn’t bathed since Teneris. After five days of sweating in the heat, sleeping in cages, and wearing the same clothes, I could smell myself, and it was far from pleasant. But right now, even the shame couldn’t stop me. All I could think about was that this woman sat in my path to the food, and my biggest fear was that she might change her mind about feeding me.
