Page 62 of Consort

The crackling of the torches is all I can hear. No growling, hissing, or clanging of chains. Wherever the mixed fae are, they’re not a threat to me yet. Besides, now that I have the queen’s power, I should be fine against a group of them if it comes to it. The only real threat I can imagine would be the queen herself, and I doubt she likes to spend much time here. The decor doesn’t really seem to fit her style.

I walk slowly around the bend, counting the torches as I pass. When I reach eleven, a door on my right creaks open. I freeze, and my magic surges through me, gathering in my fingertips.

But it’s just the handler. He jumps back in surprise at the sight of my glowing hands and retreats back into the room he came out of.

“Kahras?” I ask, pulling my magic back. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Leah and Sarra told me where to find you. I’d just like to talk if you’re willing.”

He peeks his head out and glances nervously behind me, then gestures for me to follow him into the room. Once inside, he closes the door, then tugs at his tunic and flicks his gaze up to me for only a second.

His demeanor has changed since I last saw him, handling the mixed fae for the queen. Then, his movements were fluid and confident. He was perfectly composed. Now, he seems quite insecure. His hands fidget nervously, and light blue strands stick haphazardly out of his long braid.

“I know you’re not like the others,” he finally says, claspinghis hands together to still them. “I could tell you didn’t want to hurt the mixed fae when the queen ordered you to kill him. It was in your eyes. Luckily, the queen didn’t notice before our empath changed that. Am I right?”

“Yes,” I say, trusting Leah and Sarra’s opinion of him. “That’s exactly what happened.”

I scan the room, which seems to be some sort of workshop. Countless vials of colorful liquids fill the shelves, some glowing, some vibrating in their containers. Pestles and small silk pouches litter the tables and even the floors. I count three different scales and a dozen small casks filled with soil and different kinds of herbs along the back wall.

“I’m an alchemist,” he tells me, gripping the edge of a large table in the center of the room.

“That’s how you controlled them,” I say, meaning his expert maneuvering on my first day in the castle. “Elixirs and potions.”

“An elixir applied to the chains actually controls them, not me,” he says. “I simply manipulate the chains.”

He moves to the back wall and picks up a large vial of brown liquid and swirls it in his hands as he speaks. “The queen has tasked me with creating all sorts of compounds over the years. Her main interest is in the ones I’ve developed to calm the mixed fae. But what she really wants is one I’ve been struggling with–a potion to bring back the ones lost to the bloodlust.”

He puts back the vial and turns to face me. “She’s obsessed with it. Obsessed with them.”

I feel a rush of hope, learning there may be aid for my youngling’s own struggles one day. “So, the calming elixirs have been successful? They help with the bloodlust?”

He nods. “Oh yes. Very much. Especially for the ones who haven’t lost themselves. But I haven’t managed to bring the others back. They’re calmer, but that’s as far as it gets.”

It’s excellent news. Rue will be relieved to hear that there’shelp for Vaegon. But something else Kahras said sobers me.

“Why the obsession?” I ask. “What does the queen want with them? She doesn’t need the protection.”

“No, she doesn’t need protection. She needsthem, though,” he says, and I can’t help but notice more than a hint of disgust in his voice. “She likes to flaunt them around sometimes, like she did with you, to intimidate those who might oppose her. But that’s not why she keeps them.”

“Wait,” I say as I realize something major doesn’t add up. “Why would she put out an order for the mixed fae to be killed on sight if she wants them so badly?”

“Did she instructyouto kill them?” he asks, raising his brows at me. “Other than the one she had you demonstrate your magic against?”

“Well, no…” I say, running through the few words she’s shared with me. She didn’t really have many instructions for me at all other than take no lovers and don’t kill Folas.

“Right,” Kahras says, pointing a finger at me. “She never commanded that. The nobles made it up becausetheyfear the mixed fae. The lost ones can be extremely powerful. The nobles feel threatened, so they kill the mixed fae they find before they can turn.”

“Why does the queen allow the nobles to kill them, though?”

“Riggus, the tracker, finds them. That’s his role–looking for mixed fae in the wild. He’s much better at finding them than the other soldiers.”

Rue told me about the mixed fae in her former pack. She said it’s common to have at least one in a pack. I assume Riggus is finding the ones who run off during fits of bloodthirsty rage and are no longer under the protection of their pack.

I suddenly realize how little I’ve learned during my time in the castle. If I’d made friends with the nobles before they discovered my role as consort, I’d have much better information. But whowould I become living among their influence? If I’m meant for this mission, the information should come as I need it. All I have to do right now is listen.

“Why is the queen collecting them?” I ask, getting back to the original question.

He leans forward on his hands and glares at the floor. “She stores her power in them. Like some sort of living vessels.”

It takes me a moment to process because that makes absolutely no sense. Giving me some of her magic wasn’t that risky. She can still easily overpower me. But giving it to a group of unpredictable mixed fae is just foolish.

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