Page 46 of Heart of the Shadow King

“She is helping me,” I say rather lamely. “The, um . . . the witch. From the Upper Lands. She’s helping me with my powers.”

Hael’s pale eyes narrow. For a long time, she studies me in silence. I begin to wonder if I should hasten on my way. At last, however, she says: “You died.”

A shiver runs down my spine. “Yes,” I answer flatly. “I know.” It must seem strange to her that I would return to the scene of my death night after night. “I need to understand.” Letting go of the door latch, I wrap my arms around my middle. “I have much to learn. About the crystals. About what they are and what they mean. I would prefer not to die if I should ever need to use them again.”

Hael is silent once more. This time it’s such a deep, such a final sort of silence, I have no choice but to mutter a little, “All right then,” and turn to go on my way. She follows several paces behind me. I can get no sense of her feeling. Five days of training with Maylin, and my old power has yet to resurface. Sometimes I think I can feel it deep inside me, that sensitivity and heightened awareness. But when I reach for it, it retreats. I cannot use it now to try to decipher this solemn, stern woman at my back.

Perhaps it’s time I tried more traditional methods.

Pausing at the top of the stairwell, I turn back abruptly. Hael stops. Her brows rise. “What is it?” I demand. “Tell me. Please. You’ve not said a word this whole time. Why this sudden curiosity? Have I done something? Because if I have, I don’t know what it is, so you’re just going to have to speak up.”

Hael drops her gaze. It’s the only reaction she makes, but on her granite face, it’s tantamount to a confession. She has seen something. Heard something. And it’s made her uneasy about me and my doings. She draws a slow breath.

Then: “Have you heard of theAthtar-garag?”

I frown. It’s the prophecy. The ancient trolde song Maylin told me about, the one which sent King Gaur’s brother scouring the human world for a gods-gifted woman. Until now, no one else has mentioned it to me. Pinching my lips together, I nod.

“There are whispers,” Hael continues. “Whispers and rumors throughout the palace, throughout the city. They are saying that you . . .you,Princess Faraine, are thekurspari-glur.”

The Woman of Crystals.

My heart throbs once against my ribcage and catches there. But it makes sense, doesn’t it? If rumor has spread about my part in stopping thewogghainvasion, that would in and of itself be enough to inspire ideas. And how many people stood in the gallery above the sacred pool when I gripped the crystal in Vor’s hands and helped him ease the dead to their rest? I have been declaring myself all along. Whether or not I intended to.

“Are you?” Hael persists. A strange earnestness laces her words. “Are you she of whom the song speaks?”

I swallow and take a step back into the shadows of the stairwell. “I don’t know.”

The light from the nearestlorststone plays strangely in Hael’s eyes. “Princess,” she says, “I must tell you—”

“Gods save me, Faraine, is that you? Dear sister, I’ve been looking for you absolutely everywhere! I began to think you’d been eaten or lost in one of these infernally twisting caverns.”

A figure in a plumed hat appears behind Hael, striding up the hall. Hael swiftly moves to one side, blending into the stonework. Or nearly.

“A very good evening to you, Captain Hael!” To my horror, Theodre sweeps that awful hat from his head and performs an elaborate bow which includes a delicate sweep of his foot and a flourish of one hand. I’m almost certain I hear Hael’s teeth grind. “You are, as always, a sight for beauty-starved eyes.” He straightens, beaming his smile at her with the full force of his gods-gift.

Hael sends me a sideways glance. “I will be on hand, Princess. Should you need me.” With those words she steps away, striding back down the hall and vanishing into a convenient shadow.

Theodre watches her go, his handsome brow sadly puckered. “Gods, she’s the most terrifying creature I ever beheld! Do you think she could break my spine with one hand? I rather suspect she could.”

“Yes,” I answer with conviction. “She absolutely could. And will if you keep trying to flirt with her.”

“Flirt with her? Is that what you call the little scene you just witnessed? Oh, dear sister mine, you have not seen your brother yet in his true and most charming form!” He sets his hat back on his head, tossing the plume over one shoulder, and casts me a devilish half-smile. “The ladies of the Under Realm aren’t ready for it. Trust me.”

“Leave the ladies alone, Theodre. All of them. Especially Hael. You’ve got no chance with her, believe me.”

He sighs again. “I’m sorry, Faraine. But I’ve not yet forgotten the exquisite thrill of riding with that woman’s arms around me that fateful night.”

“As I recall, you complained bitterly the entire way to Beldroth.”

“Give me a little credit.” Theodre adjusts the set of his gem-buttoned doublet. “While you may have enjoyed being swept off your feet by a mighty warrior, I’ve seen a thing or two during the last couple of years. War with the fae will make a fellow less willing to simply hand himself over to one of their kind, ally or otherwise.”

I don’t bother to reply but turn and descend the stairway without another word. My brother hastens after me, muttering curses about how damned dark it is with every step. He continues to follow me through the palace halls, drawing stony and unpleasant gazes from the troldefolk we pass. I keep my head high and hold tight to my dignity. It’s best to ignore Theodre. Eventually, he will get bored and wander off.

But he’s like a determined stray puppy today, clinging to my heels. “Where are we going?” he asks, trotting a bit to catch up and walk at my side. “Busy day planned? Or is it night? I confess, I find it very difficult to tell the difference.”

“It’sdimness,” I answer coolly. “And I am going for a walk. In the gardens.”

“They have gardens here? With plants and shrubberies and the like? How do they grow? I’m no expert, but I’m fairly certain greenery requires sunlight and—”

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