Page 13 of Shade of Ruin

He stops when he’s back in front of me, his arms across his chest. “Why should I care whether you live or die, Wyrdling?”

“Because…” My voice trails off, no confidence left. What am I supposed to tell him? He’s able to do so many incredible things. What would he want with me? Other than food or…

I look up at him. “My cousin is going to die if I don’t make it to Draenyth. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get there safely. If that requires…uncomfortablethings, I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I won’t let her die, so…” My voice trails off at the end, not wanting to put into words what I’d be willing to do to save Hazel.

Cole squints at me. “I’m not going to ravish you in the middle of the woods in return for safe passage to Draenyth, if that’s what you’re hinting at. Why wouldn’t I just do that and still leave you to die if that’s what I was after?”

I blink, recognizing the stupidity of offering myself to him like that. “Then what?” I ask.

He sighs. “I’ll take you with me because my father would be extremely displeased to see you alive if I’m right about your mother being from the House of Shadow. Maybe it will keep you from being annoying as a bonus. I’ve made it a point to only kill people when it’s necessary, so please don’t force me to murder you just for a little peace and quiet. Last night, I could have sworn you were purposefully trying to keep me awake with those snores. The only reason I didn’t kick you off that branch was because I was worried you’d start talking and I’d get even less sleep.”

Cole is officially the rudest person I’ve ever met, but I’m getting what I want. “I can be quiet,” I mutter.

Instead of responding, he just turns around and starts walking toward the path north of Blackgrove. I take a deep breath and letit out slowly. I did it. Cole is going to let me travel with him to Draenyth. Maybe I won’t die for at least a few days.

I mumble, “Now I just need to make sure not to say anything.”

When I jog to catch up to him, I do my best not to step on any leaves. Still, I’m louder than him. He’s not even trying to avoid the branches or leaves. He’s just… not breaking them?

“The first step to being quiet is not mumbling to yourself.”

Oh, this is going to be so much fun…

Chapter 7

Our secrets were supposed to keep us safe. Now our secrets are lost, and there is nothing to be done for us. All we can hope is that the lost line can be found.

~Queen Brenna, personal journals

There’s a little knownfact about Fae that no one tells humans. They’re completely silent. I’m not even talking about how they don’t make noise when they walk. They just don’t talk. I’m positive that there are plants that are better conversationalists than Cole.

It shouldn’t be an issue. I’ve spent my life mostly alone, but when the day was done and the supper fire was lit, I always had someone to talk to. Cole is just staring at the fire again. I did as I’d promised, and while he was building the fire, I went off in search of rabbits. This section of forest hasn’t been huntednearly as much as the area closer to Blackgrove, and I quickly speared two.

Which seemed to surprise Cole. I even received an, “Oh. I didn’t think you’d manage, Wyrdling,” out of him. Then it was silence again. Hours and hours of nothing is the most boring thing I can imagine when all you’re doing is walking.

Even I, a shunned Wyrdling, know that conversation makes the miles pass more quickly.

“How do you walk without breaking any branches?” I finally ask while we sit at the evening fire. I can’t take it any longer. There are too many questions, and he has all the answers.

His head slowly turns toward me. Those cold blue eyes are near-expressionless. His lips move, but the look he gives me says that his mind isn’t on the topic. “I’m nearly weightless when I walk.”

What? He doesn’t seem to think I need to know any more than that, and he turns back to the flames. It’s been a very hard two days, and I need answers that make sense. Especially when Cole is right here with all of them in that stupidly beautiful head of his.

“Are you serious, Cole? You’re literally the first Fae I’ve interacted with that hasn’t tried to kill me. I didn’t even know I was a Wyrdling. Until yesterday, I’d thought I was just a normal human. I lived my entire life in a world where magic and Fae and harpies were nightmares you told to children, and now the fire gets lit by magic and my traveling companion is a Fae and I get attacked randomly by monsters while I’m sleeping at an inn. This transition is incredibly difficult, and you are the only person who can help. What’s the harm in answering a few questions?”

He sighs as if I’m inconveniencing him more than he can handle. Surprisingly, he stands up and turns to me, though. “Look at my feet,” he says.

I do as he says and focus on his booted feet. He slowly rises onto his toes, his heels raising into the air, and then… his toes raise as well. He floats barely half an inch above the ground. He doesn’t weigh anything when we walks because he’s floating. Somehow, this surprises me more than half rotten harpies did.

“How are you doing that?” I gasp. “Can I do that?”

Then he grins. For the first time since the Tilted Mug, there’s something other than annoyance on his face. He takes a step between me and the fire, and that’s when I see them. Massive, nearly transparent wings that are the same ice-blue color as his eyes which move so fast they remind me of hummingbird wings. Silent and almost impossible to see, it’s no wonder I hadn’t noticed them before. “I can’t smell any House of Steel magic on you, so I doubt it,” he says.

“What’s the House of Steel?” You’d think that humans would have some sort of understanding of Fae magic, but they don’t. Even Vesta never explained it in detail.

Cole lifts his hand, and a wheel made of fire appears in the air. Four spokes divide it into four quarters, and at the end of each spoke, a symbol appears. At the top, the image of a chalice holding a flame burns red-hot. Clockwise from that, a mountain is carved into a tree, and while the image is still made of fire, it seems almost solid. At the bottom of the wheel, a cloak flickers in and out of sight, and my mind immediately connects it to the Shade’s cloak. Finally, on the fourth spoke, a gleaming sword over a shield appears.

“There are four Great Houses, each of whom was given their magic directly from a dragon at the end of the last age. My house, the House of Flame,” he says as he points at the top image. His hand moves clockwise, and he says, “Then there’s the House of Earth. Then the House of Shadow. Finally, the House of Steel.”

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