Page 11 of The Shadow Heir

“See you at sundown,” Felipe called up to me.

With a nod, I jogged up one flight of steps, then another, and exited the palace into the starlit night, relishing the snap of cold air against my face. Descending into Avencia’s summer, even at night, was like taking a swim in a molten lake. I relished the cold.

I strolled up a flat path cut into the mountainside and climbed one more flight of steps that deposited me onto a small balcony that overlooked the deep valley below. The lake below reflected the pale light of the moon, which was already almost hidden behind the opposing mountain peak. Wind howled through the crevices and crags, singing to me the music of the shadows. Lights glowed along the paths crisscrossing the mountainside, making the darkness glisten like a wood full of fireflies.

The sconce behind me flickered to life, its white flames burning without a sound, as I removed the bloodstained shirt and tossed it at the wall behind me. The frigid air danced over my skin for a moment before a clean shirt materialized in myhand. As I pulled the fabric down over my head, the muted sound of hurried footsteps brought a smile to my face.

“Fae move without sound,” I teased as I whirled around, just in time to accept a smash in the stomach meant to resemble a hug.

“You brought home a dead guy!” my sister said as she peeled herself off me, shaking out long dark hair that paled as it fell over her small shoulders until it was the color of spun honey. Tonight, Alba had one long chunk of hair tied up in what looked like a donut at the top of her head.

I eyed the strange pale circle of hair resting atop her head only to discover it had twigs and feathers sticking out of it as well. I frowned to keep from laughing. “Did you build a bird’s nest in your hair?”

Alba planted her hands on her hips. “A dragon nest, actually. My mother is from the Star Court, which means I should have at least alittlespring magic in me. And dragons are kind of like birds.”

I snorted, reaching out to muss her hair. She ducked away, hands up.

“Kind of like birds? Except huge and with a particular aversion to our magic?”

She straightened and crossed her arms. “There are many breeds of dragons. Some of them are quite small.”

“And they live in the jungle. Not here. And they’d hate us just as much as the big ones.”

She huffed. “Well, perhaps they only hate us because westealtheir young.”

The smile tugging at my lips fell away. Stealing was what my court did best. We stole dragon eggs. We stole humans. We stole power from the other courts. It had made us many enemies.

She glared up at me. “A dragon will find me. It will see that I’m no enemy.”

Alba hadn’t yet seen what we did to the dragons that outgrew our cages and our magic. The creatures hated us for more reasons than a few stolen eggs. “One girl won’t change the hatred seared into their natures, Alba.”

Her crossed arms fell away, but her lips pursed in annoyance.

“Besides,” I said, “do you really want dragon dung in your hair?”

The frown on her face loosened and she made a disgusted face. It was all I could do not to wrap her in a hug and procure a dragon-shaped shadow to sit in her hair all night. But a creature made from darkness wasn’t what she wanted, and it would only make her sad. So, instead, I tried to ignore the nest on her head—and the things the other fae were likely saying about it—and thought of what she’d first said.

“There was nothing I could do about the dead man. He’d been dead for two days. If Father felt the effects of the broken bargain, he felt them two days ago.”

Her eyes went wide as realization dawned on her pretty face. She had the pallor of the Star Court. The freckles dusting her skin from head to toe resembled the court’s beloved stars. Her clothing, like her hair, always attempted to wed the customs of the two courts that flowed in her veins—the result of one of Father’s trips to the Star Court. Tonight she wore a black dress with pale blue sequins huddled at the waist. A mix of darkness and starlight.

“I thought you had three mortals to collect tonight?” she said, tilting her head so that the nest would have dumped out any eggs, had there been any.

“I did. But the hour of birth hadn’t passed yet for the third, and she knew enough to understand that she technically had until that hour."

Alba clapped. “Oh, a mortal who knows about us?”

My look cut off her little celebration. “I doubt she knows much. And, Alba, no meddling with these new arrivals. You know they’ll die soon enough as it is. Their lives are a vapor.”

Her face fell. “That may be, but birds don’t live long either, and we still love their songs.”

“Planning to make the mortals sing for you?”

She smirked. “Perhaps. If blades can sing.”

“You can’t gut them, Alba. You know the rules.”

My sister planted her hands on her slender hips. “I’m not going to kill anyone, Cas. Unlikeyou.” Her words stung, but I brushed off the feeling. As acting sovereign, I didn’t have the luxury of remorse. “Father instructed me to keep practicing with my blades, and you’re too busy now,” she continued. “I need a dueling partner, and how fun would it be to pick amortal? They’d be so terrified.”

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