“To answer your question, siren,” Lord Karlana sneered, “we borrow your mind to ensure your intentions are true to your word.”
Asta didn’t quite understand what “borrowing your mind” meant, but she knew it likely wasn’t pleasant based on the menacing smirks each fae lord and lady wore. But they had made it this far, and Asta was not one to quit so easily. They needed this trident. There was no other option.
Chapter 43
The group was rushed to the edge of the dais while they awaited the thoughtrus fae. Asta risked a glance at Kaid, who returned her stare with a look steeped in worry.
Gyrial turned to everyone and rattled out few but important words. “The thoughtrus magic will penetrate your mind and examine your deepest thoughts. Do not fight it—this could cause brain damage. Do not try to hide anything from it—this will cause it to draw more attention to that part of your mind. We have nothing to hide. Do not make it seem like we do.”
“Wise words for a male who abandoned his kind,” Jek interrupted.
Asta did not like this particular male, whether he was powerful or not.Shewas powerful, too.
A female fae with silver hair floated into the room as if she hovered on a cloud. She stopped at the edge of the platform and held out a hand to Lady Tressa, who had shuffled to the side of the dais. The lady took the female’s hand and examined it as a soft glow emitted from her fingertips.
“She is she,” Tressa declared.
So the white glow was a type of identification magic. The silver-haired female approached the group now and Asta could see that her irises were so silver they were nearly indiscernible from the whites of her eyes—very similar to the traitor siren from the village, but far less menacing.
Gyrial stepped forward, the willing volunteer. Asta was uncomfortable with her best friend going first, but she could not think of anyone else she would have wanted to take his place. She had grown to care for everyone here, and they were all in danger.
“Hello, Gyrial Bohr. You return to us at last. I’ve been waiting,” the female said.
“I planned to prolong my return indefinitely, but desperate times—you know. It is lovely to see you, Sabella.” Gyrial got down on his knees in front of Sabella and averted his eyes to the floor.
Sabella placed her hand on Gyrial’s head, her fingertips sifting through his braids and caressing his scalp. As she closed her eyes, the air in the room became thick with something unfamiliar to Asta. It smelled sweet and savory at the same time and the sensation in the air caused the hairs on her arms to stand erect.
Asta didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe while Gyrial withstood the thoughtrus. She didn’t know much about magic, but she suspected one distracted thought, one hostile emotionand Gyrial would be done. It seemed as though everyone else in their band of misfits did not dare disturb the process either.
After what felt like an eternity, Sabella released Gyrial’s scalp and stumbled backward, disbelief overtaking her every pore.
“His intentions are pure. But his exile…” Sabella covered her mouth with a shaky hand.
“Enough of your dramatics, mindwalker. Onto the next candidate,” Jek shouted dismissively.
Sabella stared at Gyrial with—was it pity?
She seemed to be the one selecting candidates, and when she approached Revna, Asta did not worry. If there was one singular person of their group who was guaranteed to pass this test, it was Revna.
The silver-haired fae plunged her digits into Revna’s ice-blue hair until the tips disappeared. It took the fae half the time to search Revna’s mind compared to Gyrial’s. She steadily stepped back and nodded toward the fae council on the dais. “Pure,” Sabella stated, then stood in front of Kaid. Asta’s heart skipped a beat. Before she knew what she was doing, Asta pushed her way between Kaid and the female.
“Eager, are we?” Lady Tressa suggested with an eyebrow raised.
Asta mimicked a curtsey, though she ignored the usual mannerisms of a proper dip. “Eager to prove to you all that there is no need for such interrogation. Eager to prove to you all that you are delaying aid to the ones who wish to end a war.”
Lady Tressa scrunched her nose, but did not object.
Asta did as the two before her had done and sunk down to her knees. However, she did not avert her eyes to the floor. She stared deeply into Sabella’s mirrorlike gaze, and Sabella stared back.
Sabella smirked, one corner of her mouth turning up obscurely. A sign of respect.
The fae female gave a jerky nod, then pushed her fingers through Asta’s hair. The moment she felt the pads of Sabella’s fingers graze her scalp, the female’s eyes became blurry, then completely clouded over with depictions from her own conscience.
Images of Asta’s father flashed quickly, as though Sabella was flipping through her memories until she found something of interest. The mindwalker moved onto Maren, forcing Asta to relive the images of her sister bearing skin shredding teeth and pointed ears. These memories lingered longer, as if Sabella was investigating the details more closely.
Anything Asta had pushed to the edge of her memory, Sabella dragged back front and center. She saw her moments in her suite with her friends, the times she daydreamed with Linnea, the moment she found Thurs.
Then, every memory with Kaid resurfaced in a beautiful montage of hate and want. First, they met in the hall outside of the party the first day he had arrived. The scene quickly changed to the beach where she kicked a bit of water at him. Asta would always feel guilt for that—for reigniting the beacon of his princedom. Then they were in her dimly lit bedroom, his palm resting on her stomach. Then they were in the cave and—no, no. These memories were forAsta, not some fae she had just met.
