“I … ”
The base of my skull tingles. A knock.
Tell him the truth, Lachlan says as soon as I allow him in.
What, that you told me?
I didn’t tell you. I merely reminded you of a faerie tale. You identified the location on your own, if you’ll recall.
He’s … Well, he’s absolutely right. As soon as I exited my bedchamber, he asked me where we should go.Iwas the one who said Queen Caer’s tomb. And when he asked me if I remembered how to get there, I said I didn’t but his mare might. And sure enough, she led us straight to the tomb. That I entered alone. WhereIpried up the loose tile beneath the late queen’s statue to discover the box.
I did every bit of the task myself. Minus Lachlan’s small nudge.
A relieved breath surges through my nostrils. “For a human, you’ll find I am very well versed in folklore, Your Grace. Desmond’s clue was a cakewalk.”
“I see.” Duke Áine nods and steps back, making a faint chuffing sound. Was he pleased with my answer? I cannot tell. Our short interview is over.
The other silhouette steps forward, and he’s even larger than I realized. He barely fits within the frame.
“Duke Cernnunos of Tír na Dubh,” Desmond begins, “you may ask your?—”
“What do you fear most in this world?” Duke Cernnunos’s voice—a commanding bass as cold as the abyss that cradles the stars—pulls the truth from me faster than I can invent a clever response.
“To die alone.”
Duke Cernunnos cocks his head, and his horns loom even larger. “Every soul enters the Afterlands alone, lady. Your fear is foolish. And inevitable. Try again.”
I take a moment to compose myself, and a whine bursts from the mirror. Followed by three sharp barks. The duke turns his head sharply and hisses, “Skadi. Hush.”
He turns back to me, waiting to see if I will change my answer. Is this allowed? No one interrupts us, so I suppose it is.
“Foolish though it may be, Your Grace, that is my answer. And what I meant was that I fear reaching the Afterlands without ever having mattered to anyone.”
Oh yes, Charlotte. That was very witty. And not at all pathetic.
God, where did the woman who was parrying quips with Duke Áine disappear to?
Duke Cernunnos must take pity on me, because he says nothing further. Merely steps back in line with Duke Áine as quiet conversations buzz through the hall.
Desmond places a hand on my bare shoulder, and I look up with a pleading smile. I want to ask how I’ve done. If my answers were clever enough. How my performance compared to the other candidates’.
I do none of that, of course. Because his reassurance couldn’t help me now, anyway. My fate will be determined by the two shadowed silhouettes in the mirror.
“Alright, Your Graces, what say you?” Desmond asks. “Will you welcome Miss Fitzroy to your territories to search for the Bannrhorn?”
Duke Cernunnos is the first to answer. It’s short and simple and a spear to my heart. “No.”
He disappears in a swirl of shadows, leaving only Duke Áine’s silhouette in the mirror.
My pulse accelerates and my breathing shallows and I am trying to hold it together but I am certain that Duke Áine is going to reject me too, which means I’m going to die, and oh god, what’s going to happen to Esmeralda if I can’t get back to her, and why am I even concerned about that to begin with, because even if I survive all this and become a queen of the Otherworld, is my king really going to allow me to go back to the human realm to retrieve asnake,and I should have?—
Warmth prickles the base of my skull. Soothing.
You did well, Charlotte, Lachlan says.You’re a breath of fresh air, really. This is not over yet.
A bit of that reassurance I hadn’t dared ask for.
My breathing regulates as I lift my head to the final silhouette in the mirror, and Desmond clutches me to his side. “Well,” he snaps, an impatient crack in his normally unflappable facade, “what is your decision, Duke Áine?”
