Page 89 of A Palace of Smoke & Mirrors
The dark, smoky clouds stuck to the boundary line almost rigidly, a wall spanning from the hellish ground beneath my feet towards the heavens high above me. The colour and texture matched what I’d witnessed on the Map of Faerie, though I didn’t have the same bird’s eye view from the Ruins. It stood, not quite like the wall of glass, but rather like an enormous, inky hedge maze crafted from shadows and nightmares.
In a trice, I was a child again, dwarfed by something sinister.
Once we had drawn near enough for our movements to disturb the shadows, I peeked over my shoulder at the Court of Earth. The dark wall split the two Courts apart neatly and followed the natural boundary lines.
As far as my mortal eyes could see, Blythe’s land was completely swallowed by the unrelenting mist.
Gregor’s Court, on the other hand, didn’t look affected by its neighbour’s ailment.
The Metal Mountains were visible in the distance, miniscule from where we stood at the cusp of Faerie—like the shape of a cargo ship on a horizon that was initially mistaken for dry land.
In the south, I couldn’t discern any major landmark features like The Watch as it was depicted on the Map, but the rest of the Court looked fairly normal.
At least, in line with my expectations of it under normal circumstances. No tumbleweeds, no inky black lines poisoning the soil, and no rebel soldiers pointing at us.
There was nobody at all, actually.
I didn’t see any townships or standalone buildings in the vicinity—only wildlife and natural scenery.
Barely a few paces away from the shadows at the border, there was a flowery bush in bloom, rooted in healthy dirt beside a small pond. Toads jumped in and out of the water to a symphony of croaks and clicking noises.
Giving one last longing glance towards the Court of Earth, I turned and hastened to catch up with the High Fae. They were less enamoured with different parts of Faerie than I was and had already begun to march up towards the worst of the storm.
I guessed that it was mostly due to the fact that the Court of Earth were traitors to the crown, but even with that knowledge in the forefront of my mind, there was something beautiful about it. Like my world, but laced with magic.
For the very first time, I was gazing upon Faerie with my eyes open—and not too distracted fighting through fog or trying to forget my own existence to properly notice it.
Keeping about an arm’s length of distance between myself and the dark wall, I followed the High Fae in a straight line a few paces behind Wrenlock.
Ahead of him, the High King was deep in a low-toned conversation with Morgoya, and Batre—High Mother bless her—lingered behind to remain near my side.
Only a step or two ahead of me, the rosy-cheeked woman offered me a kind, dimpled smile over her shoulder as we walked, the ends of her twin braids bouncing against her back with each of her long steps.
When she turned away, I glanced down at my feet, and that’s when I noticed it.
The darkness.
Clouding around my feet like low-lying mist, the shadows from Blythe’s Court had slithered out to greet me.
I faltered a step, though the shadows presented no resistance, and the motion of my boots kicked up a flurry of darkness. Some of the shadows scattered for a split second, but they quickly dispersed in the air, and a new wave of them rolled over my ankles. I twisted to one side, then the other, and on both occasions found that they were pooling behind me.
I swallowed a tight lump in my throat, heart pounding wildly in my chest in its insistent but futile demand to be let out and freed.
When I sidestepped, I pulled the darkness with me, like a magnetic force was tying us together.
A cold sweat trickled down my spine, falling from the spot on the back of my neck where I felt the brief touch of a hand.
“Bat…” I tried to say her name, but my lungs were heavy with damp, useless air. Drawing in a ragged, wet gasp, I tried again. “Batre,” I rasped.
She turned, and her face paled. It might have been the gloom, but I’d seen redness on her cheeks a moment prior. Her eyes grew round, head rearing back as if she was about to fire questions at me, but I was already shaking my head to convey that I had no fucking idea.
I stepped sideways again to demonstrate that it wasn’t me drifting too close to the wall—it was the darkness coming out to me. The shadows flowed around my feet, following my everymovement. When I continued on in a straight line, they were gently dispelled with each stride, like I was splashing through the tide on an evening walk along the shoreline.
“Aura…” Batre’s voice was quietly alarmed. “Aura, are you okay?”
Hearing the question, all three of the High Fae walking ahead of us abruptly stopped and whirled around. Feeling embarrassment warm my skin beneath my heavy coat, I watched as Morgoya’s eyebrows hit her hairline. Wrenlock opened his mouth in the shape of anO, and Lucais did a double-take. However, none of them met my eyes. All of them—even Batre—were fixated on something over my shoulder, positioned in my blind spot. I didn’t want to look, but my head began to turn on its own volition to follow their line of sight.
Batre’s hand flew up to stop me.
