Page 56 of A Broken Throne of Bronze

To him, I’ve only been Miss Thurdred. Or Little Fawn.

“Please, Cryssa.”

I think of my own father. If I were in Viridian’s place, I would want to know. I would want the truth.

I hear his voice in my head again.

“Please, Cryssa.”

How can I deny him this?

“All right.” I nod. “Brace yourself.”

Viridian nods and faces forward. I enter first, leading him down the hall. Every fiber in my body urges me to quicken my pace, to pass through this horrible place as quickly as possible. But I don’t. I move slowly, glancing over my shoulder from time to time to watch Viridian.

His eyes roam the walls, the floor, the moth-eaten carpet. His face twists, dark brows furrowed. He reaches out to run his fingers along a large crack in the wall, but brings it to his nose once the rot sets in.

Viridian’s shoulders tense, but he doesn’t say anything.

I continue onward, until I reach the spiral staircase at the base of the tower.

I pause. “The worst of it is up here.”

“Very well.” Viridian takes a deep breath, clenching his jaw. He motions his hands forward, as if to say, “Onward.”

We ascend the stairs, just as slowly as our trek through the hall. I step aside once we reach the top. I stay back, but Viridian moves deeper into the chamber. He crosses his arms, mouth tight, like he’s holding his breath. I turn away.

Viridian’s footsteps take him farther from me. I look his way and find him inspecting the array of leather gloves on the table.

“How…” he murmurs, shaking his head with disbelief. “There is magic here. Dark magic.”

“How do you know?” I step forward.

“I can sense it.”

“Sense it?”

“It’s buzzing in the air all around us.” He furrows his brow, as if he can’t wrap his mind around my confusion. “You can’t feel it?”

“No,” I say.

I’m not like you, I want to add. I’m not fae.

It’s times like these that I’m painfully aware of that fact. I know very little of magic, but I know most fae, especially noble fae, are attuned to magic and can channel it. Humans, on the other hand… It’s rare for humans to harness magic of any kind.

“Oh.” He averts his eyes.

Is he looking down on me? On my feeble humanness? Does he feel as though he’s said something wrong? When it comes to him, I can’t tell. He masks his emotions well, to the point that it makes him difficult to read.

“Well, there is,” he adds, arms tense at his sides.

Dark magic? Here? I press my lips together. I didn’t expect this. How could I have expected this?

“Who would have—”

“I don’t know.” Viridian’s words are clipped. His eyes linger on me for a moment longer than I’d like. Is that an accusation I see in them?

“I’m not to blame for this,” I shoot out. My defenses come up, sharp like steel. Since I’m human, he must know I can’t use magic. Still, he doesn’t trust me, and I sure as hell don’t trust him. Because of that, I can’t help but think he’s suspicious of me. Like I am somehow to blame. Perhaps I was wrong to help him.

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