Cambria looks ready to beat the answers out of her, frustrated and nearing the end of her rope. But she’s spent her entire life used to needing to watch her tongue in this realm, and I can see her warring with her temper in favor of the expected behavior beaten into her.
“We weren’t sure if she knew and forgot or just never knew of the shadow court’s existence at all,” Dorian placates, always the peacekeeper. “Now we know she just never knew.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, just scratching a problem off of the rapidly growing list.
Our pace is languid, as if we have all the time in the world despite our sprinting hearts and mental screaming. The sight is beautiful, don’t get me wrong, it’s just...strange. The darkness combated by only the luminescent glow of the water beside us and plant life coating the buildings gives off the perception of everything being tranquil. But it also causes more shadows than not, and it makes me twitchy, wondering what’s watching us from shrouded safety.
“That horrible bitch,” Achlys vehemently spits.
I blink, not quite expecting royalty to speak in such a manner. Though she’s a far cry from a typical queen, so I really shouldn’t be this off kilter. But everything about my life hardly makes sense anymore. Honestly, this doesn’t even make the bottom of the list for things to be concerned over.
Dorian snorts. “That’s putting it mildly.”
She chuckles, sitting on the bank between the road and the river, dipping her bare feet in the water. It leaves us awkwardly standing around, because heck if we’re about to touch the stuff when it clearly affects the world around us.
Achlys simply reclines on her arms, swishing her feet back and forth while closing her eyes, head tilted to the night sky. “Graham lived here, so many years ago. But when he lost his mate, he was never the same. He took his son and left, and I never heard from him again.”
She looks up at Lucien apologetically. “He mentioned finding a way to leave the fae behind and move to the human realm permanently, but I thought it a fool’s errand.” She gazes into the sky, looking sad. “The only way it could even be remotely possible would be to sacrifice your abilities, every bit of magic this world imbues a fae with. I imagine it would feel like severing a limb, losing such an integral part of you. It’s amazing he didn’t go mad.”
There’s a heavy beat of silence as Lucien chooses to sit. He doesn’t touch the water and keeps a good distance from Achlys, but he finally sags in defeat. “He did.”
She sighs. “A shame, really. He was a good man when I knew him.”
Dorian strums his fingers on his thigh restlessly. “But Luce didn’t go mad and he would have had to experience the same loss.”
Cambria sits near Lucien, kicking off her shoes to dip her feet in the enchanted water. “If he was only a toddler, it wouldn’t have had as long to take root.”
“Which might be why he’s always been emotionally stunted.” I don’t get smacked from my position, but I can feel Lucien’s desire to like a living entity.
Honestly, it makes perfect sense to me, now that there’s an explanation. Luce has always given off an air of cold detachment and is capable of going off the rails violent. Hell, he tore my father limb from limb with nothing more than a pocket knife and sheer force of will. But more importantly, he’s started to resemble a normal human over the last month or so, actually allowing feelings to start slipping out in public. We attributed the change to him falling in love with Cambria, but maybe it’s more than that.
Maybe it’s the magic we’re absorbing through the bond that’s starting to fix him and Cambria was just a conduit of energy.
“But what about Maddox?” Luce asks quietly.
Achlys just shrugs. “I’m sorry, I don’t know who you’re referring to.”
I feel for Lucien, I really do. Revelation after revelation, and now it’s pretty clear the dead brother that brought the three of us together likely wasn’t his brother at all. His life’s been lit on fire as completely as our house and I can’t think of a single thing to say that might lessen the blow or make him feel better.
Instead, I have a selfish stab of doubt, if I’m being honest with myself. Because if Lucien and Cambria are both fae, where does that leave Dorian and me? There’s no doubt in my mind that I’m completely human, and a jobless bum at that. I have nothing to offer besidesmeand as the blows keep coming, it’s feeling less and less like that’s enough.
“And Cambria?”
Both women tense, and I have no doubt their reactions each stem from fear. One afraid of hearing the news, and the other just as nervous of how it will be received. At this point, I’m about two seconds from jumping into the river and seeing where the current will take me, and I’m not even the one getting my identity blown to smithereens.
“She’s everything,” Achlys whispers, mirroring my thoughts, but no doubt for a very different reason. “The only thing,” she corrects, “that keeps us safe.”
Cambria actually bursts out laughing. “I think you have me confused with someone else. I can barely keep myself alive.”
Achlys gives her a sad smile, waiting for her to calm down without rushing her, the epitome of patience. The longer the moment stretches on, the more Cambria’s chuckles start to taper off, leaving an awkward silence in her wake when it’s clear Achlys is adamant in her conviction.
Cambria quiets, more subdued and nervous now. “What do you mean?”
The queen lies back on the grass, water lapping at her feet and her arms crossed behind her head. She looks so casual, like that alone will be enough to soften the blows she’s throwing our way.
“You’re the last of the guardians, Cambria Alistair,” she announces as easily as if we were discussing the weather. “The only thing standing between us and the things that hide in the shadows.”
