Page 151 of Court of the Fae Princes

“Is this… an unusual power?” I ask, feeling uncertain.

She nods, letting the slight curve of a smile come through for just a moment. “It’s more than a little unusual. There’s no way you just have a fae somewhere in your distant family line.”

What? I’m going to have to ask my dad more about that.

My mind is spinning. “If this is some rare thing, how did you even know to try it?”

Her smile widens. “The last person I knew with this skill developed their powers at a similar age and in a similar way, so I took a chance.” Then she winks at me. “Now, we don’t have time to dwell. Follow the light. It’s our way to your men.”

When she turns back around and starts riding forward, the golden glow leaps forward too and begins to sail through the trees, weaving in one direction and stopping, as if waiting for us. We ride forward, me behind Lady Nova, and the light continues to dart forward, but always stays near enough. A guiding light in the maze that is these tangled woods.

After a time, my mind begins to race. How can I be a powerful fae? Both of my parents were human. As far as my father has said, my grandparents were human too, and their parents before them. My father has always said our family line is as boring as boring could be. There’s no logical explanation for the magic I now have.

My father must have lied to me. Or he didn’t know himself. Maybe the fae was somewhere in my mother’s line, so he just didn’t know? I can’t imagine him purposely lying to me.

Right?

Right.

Except, I remember just a few days ago when my grandmother had mentioned the healer who was working on dad, and something about magic, and he’d shushed her. Were they talking about him having magic, or something else? Have they been working together to lie to me all my life?

No. This is crazy. I trust my dad. He’s always been honest with me. If I can’t believe him, I can’t believe anyone. All this craziness can’t make me start to doubt the people I care about most.

Pushing the thoughts aside, I try to focus on the present. We work our way through the labyrinth, guided by the golden light I created, but questions continue to gnaw at me. No matter how I think about it, I shouldn’t have fae powers.

But I have powers. How is that possible?

My life can’t have been built on a lie. The thought hovers in my mind, a growing storm cloud. All I’ve known is my simple life as a human. I accepted my fate living a life of poverty and servitude, and yet, somehow, dormant inside of me has been fae magic. The list of questions piling up in my mind is long enough to lead us right to the door of the House of Death.

Lucky for me, that’s right where we’re heading.

ELEVEN

Cassia

My eyes flash open. I stare for a minute in confusion. Torches burn along the walls of the dark space I’m in. Roots hang from the ceiling above, and crypts line the walls. The House of Death. The place is aptly named, and is becoming a place I’m all too familiar with.

Rising from where I was lying on the floor, I glance around, and my gaze falls on Prince Forrest and the woman standing before him. I dismiss her in an instant, unable to look away from Prince Forrest. His auburn hair is dirty and tangled around his shoulders. He has a swollen black eye and bruises covering his face. They’ve chained him to a wall by his wrists, where he hangs, looking battered and beaten.

Yet, he’s awake. Conscious and aware as he stares as the tall female fae who stands before him. She wears a black gown made of lace and brown and pale green wings extend from her back, their pattern similar to that of a butterfly’s. Long black hair falls down one of her shoulders, but as beautiful as she is, she radiates the kind of chill I imagine only a fae from the House of Death could have.

“I must go,” she says, her voice low and cold.

“No, Lady Grave, you came down here for a reason,” he rasps, and my heart breaks at the sound of his voice.

She shakes her head. “I don’t know why I came to see you. It was foolish.”

“It wasn’t. You wanted to see what the Keeper of Death was doing because some part of you knows this is wrong.” He’s struggling against his chains, but it does no good; they hold him solidly against the wall.

“I may be the head of the House of Death, but the Keeper is our true leader. The most powerful among us. The most revered by the dead. I have no power here, even if I wanted to go against the Keeper, which I don’t,” she says, giving a little bow of her head.

“That’s not true. You can do something. You can stop this,” he pleads. “You know this is wrong. You know what it will do to the kingdom.” He tries to hold his head up, but it hangs awkwardly against the force of the chains and the angle he’s being held at.

Lady Grave clasps her hands in front of her with no expression on her face. “This war and the deaths that will follow aren’t the path I would have taken, but I don’t make the path. The Keeper of Death, in all of her power, does. She rules this land. She could rule all the land with her power. It’s not my place to question her or to rise up against her. It’s my job to simply follow what she has laid out.” She turns to leave, and I stand frozen, unsure what to do.

“I know you have premonitions, more powerful than any other fae. What have you seen happening if you let her do this?” he calls.

She answers without looking back at him. “Death is inevitable.”

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