Two questions asked, two answers received. Answers that implied so much… but that in actuality, might not change anything at all. Cyara had to ask one that would.
“Do you bear any ill-will to my Queen?”
Diana met her gaze, eyes still full of unshed tears. In the low candlelight, the brown of her irises was softer, flecked with gold. Such a contrast to her sharp, abrasive brother Percival.
“No,” Diana whispered. “All I want is to live in peace.”
Cyara would have believed her even if she had not compelled the answer. So she gave a true answer of her own in response. “There will be no peace until we banish the succubus for good.”
Diana’s lower lip wobbled slightly. “And how will you banish it?”
If Veyka had a plan, she had not yet shared it with Cyara. Beyond writing letters to warn the far reaches of the kingdom, obtaining the amorite and distributing it… she had mentionedjourneying to Cayltay. Did that mean she would try to rally the terrestrial armies?
But who would be fighting… the fae against the humans? The lower and less powerful classes who did not get the amorite before it ran out? Who would be left as prey to the succubus… and who would make that decision?
Cyara swallowed the chocolate and wine past the lump in her throat. “Did Gorlois ever mention a way to close the rifts, to control the void so the succubus could not get through?”
Diana looked away, toward where the two sets of shackles waited, set into the stone wall. “That is your fourth question.”
“You do not have to answer,” Cyara said gently, and meant it.
The human woman’s eyes lingered on the shackles. Perhaps remembering a different set, another captor. Bile swirled in Cyara’s gut. She was not certain that when the time came, she would be able to close the iron manacles around this young woman’s wrists again.
“Gorlois was not concerned with the succubus. His only concern was power. He wanted to open rifts big enough to let entire armies through. To conquer the fae realm, the human realm, and perhaps others we have not yet discovered. The realms are the same, layered on top of each other. He knew the terrain of the human and fae realm. He felt that with the rifts, he would be unstoppable.” Diana’s voice was as devoid of emotion as Cyara had ever heard it. A kernel of unease skittered up down her spine.
“Is such a thing possible?” Cyara whispered.
Diana turned back to face her, her teeth digging hard into her full lower lips. She released it to say, “Your queen commands the depths of the voids of darkness. What she might do is limited only by her own willingness to try.”
“How do you know?”
Cyara watched as Diana’s eyes threatened to glaze over again. But she managed to keep her eyes clear, her posture steady as she answered. “I was Gorlois’ prisoner for nearly three years. There was no one alive, in this realm or any others, who knew more about the Void Prophecy.”
The implication her words held—was it an offer or a threat?
Cyara’s hopes and instincts told her the former. But she was not ready to give into them, not quite yet. In either case, what came next was entirely genuine.
“The others will not be back here for hours, yet. While you are unshackled, you might as well enjoy a proper bath.”
38
VEYKA
I slowly worked my way around the great hall of Eilean Gayl, course by course and drink by drink. There was no formality to it, but there was a cadence. Servants would appear with heavily laden platters. The terrestrials would murmur and growl their appreciation before digging in, serving themselves from whatever platter was nearest at that given moment. Eventually, interest would shift back to dancing or fucking or fighting. Only to be renewed again thirty or forty minutes later, when the next course appeared.
Every bite was delicious, every sip of wine thick and luscious. But none of it could touch the aching void inside of me.
No one approached me, which struck me as odd, when they were clearly watching every step and mouthful. So different from Baylaur, where the courtiers would have been fighting one another for a chance to reach my side and ply me with honeyed words.
The terrestrials watched me instead, assessing my strengths and weaknesses. I was determined to show them none of the latter. At least I did not have to speak with anyone.
Which left me too much time to watch them, in return.
There was just as much fucking as the elemental court, though here they did not even bother going into the recesses of the alcoves or corridors. I watched as a female mounted a male right there beside a tray of golden, crisp sausage roles. The servant had to reach around them to clear the last course’s dishes.
Plenty of weapons as well, though a wider array that what I was used to seeing. The elementals I knew preferred daggers or thin, elegant rapiers. A handful wielded mighty swords such as Excalibur. Lyrena was one of them. But the terrestrials had all sorts of wicked weapons hanging from their belts, leaning against the stone walls, or just dropped onto the tables next to the platters of food. Spears taller than I was, thicker than my arm, kept company with pick axes and what I thought was called a flail, with a lethal Morningstar hanging from its chain. All of which was secondary to the claws, talons, and teeth that would emerge when the fauna-gifted among them shifted.
I settled myself at a table near the massive wooden doors as the next course appeared—entire game birds the size of my head roasted whole and dripping what smelled like plum sauce. My eyes followed the line of servants marching back into the kitchens, past the head table where Elayne and Pant…
