Page 13 of Crowning of the Sword

“Because the Swords wield greater power than any of the others and must be kept in check. Only one may rule and the other must be confined. When the Shields lost the war, all the kingdoms knew what jeopardy they faced if the Swords were allowed to run unchecked.” After a pause, she added, “The tournament has become a tradition, an event of pomp and ceremony, feasts and celebration. The ordinary fae seem to have forgotten that it’s a matter of survival. The tournament keeps the Swords in balance. It would be a disaster for all of Esha if anything were to disturb that.”

Ember nodded, and Alena smiled and chucked her under the chin as if she were a mischievous little kitten. “I enjoy talking with you. Everyone else thinks they know everything, and only you fully admit you know nothing.”

And with that, she dissolved, was the only way Ember could describe it, as if she were a puddle of rain drying in the sun, the molecules of her becoming transparent and gaseous, and then vanishing altogether. Ember stared at the space where Alena had been for a full minute, and then, shaking her head in wonder, moved to the easel, and inspected the paints.

She lost herself in her work for a long stretch of time, but because of the unchanging light, had no idea how long she’d been there. Certainly many hours, she thought, when she eventually came back to herself, wincing at the stiffness in her shoulders and neck. She’d only been able to paint at home in snatches when Bruno was out of the house. He thought of her painting as stupid and frivolous, although he certainly didn’t mind spending the money when she sold a piece online.

In her painting, the weathered columns of the present had transformed into foreboding edifices, cleared of lichen and aged marks. Instead of rubble, she had brought the column of the Kingdom of Shields back to life, repairing the broken stones and placing it where it would have stood when it was first built. She wasn’t sure what the Shields symbol would have been; there was no clue on the fallen stones, and so she improvised, etching a shadowed shield with a glossy pine tree in the centre. She wasn’t sure what had inspired a pine in this leafy tropical jungle, but it felt right to her.

She added another brushstroke and then, unsure if the canvas would be tidied away with all her painting equipment, tucked it out of sight behind the fallen stones to work on later.

Leaving the easel, she returned through the forest, found her shoes and slipped them on. Her stomach rumbled, and she thought back to the crepe pancakes that she hadn’t eaten that morning with a wistful longing. She was just wondering if she should call out for a servant to show her where to go, when a little golden light zipped through the trees and came to a stop in front of her, hovering in the air. She tentatively reached out to touch it, wondering as she did so if that was the wisest thing to do—it might zap her with a bolt of electricity or something—but it darted back out of her reach and hovered again, plainly waiting for something.

“Could you show me to my room?” she said finally, and the little light bobbed up and down as if happy she had finally made a decision. It moved off between the trees and she followed it out into the hallways.

She had become accustomed to seeing the castle crowded with fae all carefully avoiding her eye, and it was disconcerting to find that the hall was empty. Her footsteps echoed in the silence, and then came a strange sound, a regular pulsing beat that made her spin, looking for the source. It turned out to be coming from overhead; a young fae flying up the hall, the percussion of air moving through his silver tipped feathers, amplified by the soaring ceiling, stone floors, and empty panelled walls. The fae must have seen her, but he didn’t acknowledge her and soon rounded a corner, leaving her alone again.

She followed the glowing guide without further incident, and it zipped away as soon as she opened the door to her room. Lily was waiting for her, a tray of food on a low table by the window. Ember headed immediately for the food, but the maid took one horrified glance at her, and insisted she have a shower first to clean the paint off her hands and arms.

The shower was refreshing, and she was positively famished by the time she was done. When she emerged, Lily showed her a shimmering pink dress laid out on the bed, with a set of lacy underwear to match and a pair of pink high heels. There was a velvet box too, and when she opened it, she found a gorgeous necklace cast from hundreds of little gold links, interspersed with sparkling diamonds. With it was a handwritten note:

Dearest Ember, please join me this evening for dinner.

Cole.

Chapter 13

Ember’s stomach fluttered with nerves as she followed Lily through the castle. The mere suggestion of spending an intimate evening alone with Cole had been enough to make her palms damp. Even though he had explained that his and Lissa’s affair was a mere casual liaison, she still felt as though she were encroaching on the other woman’s domain. Ember had always had a hard and fast rule to support the sisterhood, but … did a water sprite count?

The layout of the castle was confusing. It was hopeless trying to figure out where she was. The hallways all looked the same, although in this part of the castle, other fae hurried about on their business.

She tagged after Lily, gazing at those strange lumps protruding from her back with a deep sense of sorrow. It must have been terrible to be abused so. Bruno had left bruises, but the thought of him amputating a part of her made her feel sick to her stomach.

She noticed that the fae they passed not only averted their eyes from her but also from Lily, as though Lily’s disgrace might be contagious, and she noticed too, that Lily walked with her back straight as if to show that she didn’t care what she thought. Her pace was careful and regular, without any sign of the little skips that betrayed her want to fly and join the others swishing over their heads.

Eventually they passed under an archway and drew to a stop in front of two immense doors flanked by guards, who bowed and ushered them in.

Ember, who had been expecting to be shown into a small sitting room with a table for two, hovered in the doorway, taken aback at the sight of a large glittering hall with twisted golden trees lining the walls. A vast table marched down the centre, enough for a hundred seats. All the seats were taken, and every person there was staring at her.

She gave a quick terrified glance at Lily, who merely made a point of raising her chin. Be brave, her look said.

Ember took the hint, and, taking a deep breath, walked forward. Lily followed behind and made her way to the edge of the room, where other fae servants were standing, ready to serve.

“Ember!” A voice came, as soft and intimate as if the two of them were alone together, and Cole appeared in front of her, smiling. “You look enchanting. The necklace suits you.”

“Thank you. I love it.”

He smiled at that and kissed the back of her hand, before leading her to a seat halfway down the table. She settled in her place and took in her surroundings, the white table linen trimmed in gold, gold candle holders, gold-rimmed wine glasses, golden tulips in crystal vases. The entire effect was ridiculously opulent, almost garish, and it dazzled her.

“This is my team,” Cole said, settling into a seat next to her, not at the head of the table, as Ember had thought he might. He indicated with a golden fork as he spoke, “Broude is the head of the Flying Eagles.”

Broude was a tall, muscular fae with what Ember was beginning to think of as ‘the fae look’; high cheekbones, full lips, pointed ears and an unearthly glowing lustre to the skin. He sat on a stool instead of a high-backed chair, to best accommodate magnificent wings shot with sunset colours of pink, gold and orange.

He nodded at Ember unsmiling, and she nodded back. Cole pointed to another teammate, standing at the table a few seats down, for he was a centaur and had no use for chairs at all. “Swirl.”

Swirl looked up as he heard his name and gave Ember an assessing once over before turning back to his conversation. The smile fell from Ember’s face at the snub. But then, she thought, maybe all centaurs were like that, aloof and proud, with little use for humans.

“And of course, you know Lissa,” Cole finished.

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