I settle back against the cushioned seat and watch through the window as my kingdom slides past. Dawn is breaking over Aelfheim. The soft golden sunlight spills across the mountains, turning the palace walls to glittering diamonds.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Blaire murmurs.
"It is."
And we might never see it again.
The thought sits heavy in my chest but I push it down. I can't afford fear right now. The journey takes hours even by the magic that governs the Noctrals. We travel through mountain passeswhere the snow still clings to the peaks, then down into valleys where spring has already begun to green the earth.
Blaire and I talk intermittently during the journey, going over our stories and memorizing the details of our false identities. But mostly we sit in comfortable silence, each lost in our own thoughts.
The landscape changes gradually as we approach the fae border on the Red Road. Trees begin to grow taller and stranger, their branches twisting in strange patterns.
"We're close," Blaire says, pressing her face to the window.
I feel it too as I gaze at the twilight sky.
Avalon.
The realm of shadows and ancient malice. Standing here I understand why they call it that, and I also understand why it has never been enough to keep anyone away. The land of the fae is beautiful. Black spires rise against the sky between buildings wrapped in climbing night-flowers. Stars hang lower here than anywhere I have ever been, close enough that I find myself wanting to reach up and take one. Even the air is sweeter, rich like wine.
Invitations were sent across the continent, reaching dwarves, orcs, the animals, even elves of Tiamat and Kashran. Everyone is invited except for the elves of Aelfheim. No one looks at our carriage too long. We're just another anonymous arrival, one of hundreds making the journey for Calanmai.
Towering over the city is Eirik Bloodhound's castle, the Palace of Bones. My breath catches despite everything I know about the king who built it. The structure rises from the highest plateau, its walls constructed entirely from the bones of leviathans of the past. Dragon skulls serve as cornerstones, their empty sockets filled with flames. Massive ribs form archways tall enough for titans to pass through without bending.
But the palace is dark, its bone-fires burning low. Because the fae king's ball is not held at the palace.
It's held at the Dawnroot of Dunethar. The tree is far grander than any palace could ever be. Its trunk is wider than Aelfheim's great hall and its bark silvered with age and magic. Branches spread out in every direction, each one thick as a city wall, and they're covered in leaves that glow with their own ethereal light. It is said that deep inside the great tree lies the fountain of youth.
Platforms have been built among its branches, connected by bridges of living wood that grow and shift as I watch. Lanterns hang from every limb by the thousands and they cast shifting patterns of light across the bark.
It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. It's the most dangerous place I've ever been.
And everywhere here, there are fae.
The other carriages stop at the base of the tree. Attendants in silver livery move efficiently, helping guests descend and directing them toward stairs that spiral up the trunk. Ours stops far behind the main entrance, away from the glittering procession of nobility.
Blaire's eyes are sharp and focused. "Remember, gather what you can. But don't get caught."
Her contact in town isn't expecting her until the festivities are fully underway.
"Same to you," I tell her. "Your mission is just as dangerous as mine. Maybe more so. At least I have the mask."
"I have charm." She shrugs and flashes her brilliant smile.
The carriage comes to a complete stop. Outside, I can hear music, voices, and laughter.
This is it. The moment I step out, I'm on my own.
"Rhianelle," Blaire says, and there's something in her voice that makes me pause. "If it becomes too dangerous… just leave. The information isn't worth your life."
But we both know that's not true. The information about Eirik's planned invasion could save thousands of lives.
Still, I nod. "I promise."
Blaire doesn't call me on my lie.
The driver opens the door and extends his hand to help me down. "This is as far as I go," he says quietly.
