Page 61 of Consort

The shifters have even managed to pick off Torren, the nosy shadow caster who was constantly following me around. It’ll be nice not to have to check my back so thoroughly anytime I want to see Rue.

The other nobles have been oblivious to their absences, too caught up in themselves to worry about anyone else. They’re worthless. They’ve never seen true battle. Sure, they use their power to fend off some of the more dangerous lesser fae. But mostly, they use their power against the helpless, even their own kind.

I’ve seen lightbenders bet on how many of an innot’s eyes they can blind in one shot, dreamweavers attacking the minds of innocent fae napping outside their homes, and fire elementals summoning fire spirits to scout out shifters alone in the forest for them.

In all the ways I’ve seen them wield their magic, I’ve never witnessed a soldier engage in any kind of training. They rely on the raw power of their magic and don’t bother to refine it.

But the shifters and kelpies fight for survival every day. They’re skilled and experienced warriors. I’m hoping to assemble my own army of real warriors to bring to the castle and show the nobility what real power looks like.

For now, though, I’m impatiently sitting in my room, waitingfor Leah and Sarra to bring dinner. I have a question for them I should have asked ages ago. They finally bustle in with the meal, chattering about a tiff between two other servants. As soon as the door closes behind them, I ask.

“Where is the dungeon?”

They both stop and cock their heads at me.

“The dungeon?” Leah asks.

“Yes. I haven’t been able to find it anywhere.”

Sarra empties her tray and begins changing the linens on my bed. Leah unloads her own tray and sits at the table in front of me. “Oh, well, the door is off the kitchens,” she explains, leaning forward on her elbows to peer down at my food.

“The kitchens?” I ask, cutting into my meat. Leah’s nostrils flare as the savory scent rises with the steam. “That would explain why I haven’t found it. I’d never think to look there. It does make sense, though. I suppose the prisoners need to be fed, too.”

Sarra huffs. “There are no prisoners. Only mixed fae shifters. But yes, they need to eat.”

I take a sip of my wine and ask, “Why no prisoners?”

“The queen doesn’t keep fae who have angered her around for long,” Leah says softly.

“Sadly, that adds up,” I mutter, pushing my plate over to her for a bite. Her face lights up, and she spears a piece of meat with my dessert fork.

“I did a quick check for illusioned doors in the kitchens, but I didn’t find any. There are always servants around, though. I must have missed it in my haste.”

“The door isn’t hidden,” Sarra says, fluffing my pillows. “It looks just like the pantry door. I’m sure you glanced right over it.”

Excitement rushes through me as I begin planning my visit. I need to see the dungeon in case I end up there or need to end upthere later. “Will anyone stop me if I try to go in?”

“No,” Leah says, popping a grape into her mouth. “Nobody stops the nobles from doing anything. If the queen didn’t want you going in there, she would have said so.”

“Kahras, the handler, is kind,” Sarra says. “He’s a good friend of ours. We’ve already told him about you. That you’re nice and… different from the other nobles.”

I haven’t shared my plan with them, mostly for their own protection. But I’m sure they’ve guessed what I’m up to. They’re good fae, and I think they can sense my good intentions.

I’m surprised to hear that the handler isn’t automatically a foe as I had assumed. He seemed so at ease before the queen, so stoic given his duties were with the dangerous mixed fae. I want to be skeptical, but Leah and Sarra wouldn’t befriend someone evil. I’ll just have to see for myself.

“Thank you both. For the information and for putting in a good word for me,” I say, shoving some vegetables into my mouth.

“More fruit puffs for you,” I tell Leah. She squeals and clasps her hands together.

“And spiced wine for you,” I tell Sarra with a wink. She scoffs and tries to act annoyed, but we all know she loves the stuff.

As soon as they leave, I head to the kitchens. Servants rush about, ensuring there’s enough food for the gluttonous nobles who will come and go throughout the evening. I ask one of them to send some fruit puffs and spiced wine to my room, then study the pantry doors.

One door is getting a lot of use, while the other stands ignored. That must be the one. Once the servant runs off to fulfill my request, I stride over to the door and let myself in. Sure, the servants around me may find it strange, but Leah’s right. Who’s going to stop me?

Small torches flicker on the gray stone walls, casting a feeblelight in the dark corridor. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. The castle feels eerie with all the white, bland surfaces. Walking into this dark hole of a corridor is equally unsettling, though.

The ceiling is low, and the walls feel too close together. Tall, spindly shadows dance across the uneven floor, which curves to the left, leaving me blind to whatever lies ahead.

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