Page 41 of A Lady’s Guide to Fae Kings

Chapter Ten

The air whistled in Pippa’s ears, and pressure tingled under her eyes. She was weightless for a disorienting moment.

When she landed, it was not a graceful affair.

Fortunately, she had long ago learned the trick of catching one’s balance when a rolling ladder slipped or a stack of books threatened to topple. She caught her footing before she could land on her backside. Or her face.

A fortunate talent, as one wrong step and she would have plummeted to the ground from a great height.

She clutched the wall behind her, teetering on a stone ledge at the top of a tower tall enough to make her stomach swoop just thinking of the drop. And it was impossible not to think of the drop. The tower was circled by spiraling stone steps around the outside down to the ground, with no railings to speak of, only wind and sun and grass below.

She had the sinking feeling that she was going to have to hurl herself down those stairs.

Quickly.

In her nightdress and bare feet.

The tower stones were hung with mirrors of all shapes and sizes, from the size of a thumbnail to a castle drawbridge. Thirteen of them were framed in gold and wreathed with animals, one for each court. Fae royalty gazed out of them. More Fae filled the other mirrors—Pippa recognized the Hawk King and the Serpent Queen and the Toad Princess. They were all eager, eating and drinking and shouting.

At the bottom of the tower was an expanse of grass and wildflowers and a single tree, hung with shards of mirror that caught the light and three keys dangling on ribbons.

The other Tithes appeared all around her, stumbling and staggering, clutching at the wall. Hellebore landed as though she were dancing, Roman as though he did this sort of thing every day. Everyone else looked as unsettled as Pippa felt, eyes wild, gasping on a breath or a shout. Molly yelled as she winked into sight. They wore crowns of flowers and leaves, just as Pippa wore her circlet of delicate, thorny blackthorn flowers and owl feathers.

There was a second tower, same as the one she was perched on, for the other Tithes. Hellebore, Molly, Roman, Jude, and Ennis were with her; the others clung to the second tower on the other side of the tree.

Pippa had a moment to ask herself, once again, how she had found herself teetering in the air, armed only with a red ribbon Lachlan had tied around her throat, fire that would not answer to her, and the knowledge of how to organize a collection of ten thousand books.

The clouds darkened, taking the shapes of Kerne and his mounted warriors. They looked down dispassionately, hounds at their feet. “Welcome, Tithes, to your first trial.”

Ah, yes, there was nothing as welcoming as the threat of falling from a great height and cracking your head open. As far as hospitality went, it needed improvement.

“Entertain us, Tithes, and your Revels will be all the sweeter,” Cai called out.

Pippa was so glad that her untimely demise would be dinner entertainment.

She lowered her eyes, lest they see the vicious anger boiling inside her. Let them underestimate her, she reminded herself. It had worked on bullies and Professor Marwick and Mrs. Pettigrew for years now.

Today, it left a bitter taste in the back of her throat.

She tried not to search for Lachlan, but there he was, outlined in his mirror. Scowling. He wasn’t wearing his crown again. She assumed he must have one. The others certainly did not deign to be seen without one, even glimpsed through glass.

Lachlan was a lone shadow, stark and severe.

And focused entirely on her.

It bolstered her courage. Which was irritating.

He was not here to offer his support. He was here to make sure she won glory and power for his Court. She ought to sit right down and refuse to move. She would have, if she had thought it would do anything except, possibly, get her murdered.

His violet eye narrowed. She swore he could read her thoughts.

That was also irritating. He was irritating.

Couldn’t he let her be murdered in peace? It was hardly her fault that he had chosen the worst Tithe imaginable. It served him right for meddling where he was not invited. This was what happened when one saved a Fae king: nothing but trouble.

She turned her attention back to the tower with its white stones gleaming under the hot sun. Wherever they were now, it was not cold like Thorn Hall. She did not know how the seasons worked in Elphame, or the weather. She could be steps from familiar ground or a hundred hours away on a fast horse. All that mattered currently was the drop to the ground.

And the fact that they were suddenly no longer alone.