Page 6 of Trials of Dusk and Dreams
“Queens cannot be trusted,” Emrys hisses, lashes lowering as he inspects my face. When interest sparks in his eyes, I know it’s not because the curse has been broken. Fox never saw the ugliness, so it’s fair to assume Emrys didn’t either. His interest is something far more nefarious. I’ve always felt like he was an inch away from strapping me to his torture chair. It’s enough to make me doubt he’s the right choice for the enchanted spectacles.
“Which is why I came here first,” Styx says.
Emrys straightens to his full, imposing height, yet his gaze remains on my face. I am at his mercy in this lowly position, on my hands and knees.
Scraping on the slate draws my attention to his boot sliding toward my vulnerable hand. The blood-spattered toe lifts and hovers over my splayed fingers, ready to crush my fragile mortal bones.
My heart hammers against my ribcage so hard that I can’t breathe. This isn’t choking on air. This is lung-squeezing panic.
“Oh, little moth.” His sensual lips curve with cruel delight. “Your heart sings such a beautiful melody. Shall we see what other tunes it knows?”
His boot lowers, and I brace for crushing pain, but nothing comes when Styx asks, “But is she the one who betrayed me?”
Playfulness evaporates from Emrys’s posture. His boot slips away from my hand as he glances at Styx. “What do you mean, betrayed?”
“Why do you think I was put in the cabinet?” Styx’s voice drops to a wary tone, eyes narrowing.
The Knight Inquisitor returns his wariness. “What are you implying, Sixth?”
“That the story she told of my sentencing is false,Third.” Styx pushes off the wall and meets Emrys, toe to toe. “Do you not recall what happened?”
“You broke the Old Code.”
Styx’s lips flatten. “Did I?”
“Emrys can’t remember.” I scramble to my feet. “Titania cursed you all. Or the Keepers have. I’m still unsure what’s happening with your seals, but your memory is unreliable even when the seals are broken.”
Two sets of distrustful eyes swing my way, and I am out of patience.
“And for the record,” I continue, “I wasn’t here when you were encased in stone. So I can’t have been the one to betray you.”
At their continued silence, my eyes burn with unshed tears. “I’ve lost so much tonight,” I growl. “I am raw. I am exhausted. I am devastated. I feel like Fox has ripped my heart out with the move he pulled, but I understand why he did it. You lot are a mess. He was at his wit’s end trying to unite his hive.” A hysterical laugh chuffs out of me. “He tried for five years andcouldn’t make it work. You need me. Admit it. Return us to the castle to finish this conversation with the others.”
“Look at that,” Styx drawls. “The mortal with fangs thinks she can order us around.”
For some reason, his words cast doubt into Emrys’s eyes. I sense his irritation swarming in the air, pulsing against my skin. Then, as quickly as it arrives, it dissipates.
“Return her,” he intones as he strolls to his victim and swipes a finger along a limb. He sucks blood from his finger, considering something. When his gaze lowers briefly to my neck—to where Fox’s bite mark still marks my flesh—and then darts away, I know he must have felt the mating bond trigger. Fox and Styx both received Well-blessed mating marks matching mine on their necks before Tinger’s borrowed mana fizzled out. Emrys’s next words to Styx are through a clenched jaw. “Go. Tell the First what happened to the Fifth. Let him decide her fate. I will investigate the circumstances of your capture.”
When Styx starts toward me, I realize that no matter whose memories are lost, they still instinctively follow a chain of command.
Styx flickersus to the courtyard before the Keep but doesn’t stay to walk me inside. He storms up the steps, his anger palpable in the tense set of his shoulders. A pang in my chest urges me to follow him, to chase him down and ensure he’s okay. Waking after years of false imprisonment, finding your brother has taken your place, and the rest have barely any memory of the circumstances surrounding it would be jarring. I dare think he feels lonelier than me.
But exhaustion weighs heavily on my limbs, and even though the enchanted spectacles burn a hole in my pocket, I don’t head to Legion’s chambers. I return to mine. The closer I get, the stronger Fox’s scent becomes, and I remember I won’t be able to get inside without him. But when I arrive, his outer door has returned. Frowning, I wrap my hand around the doorknob. Did the castle shift our rooms back last night, and I didn’t notice when I woke?
Did it know he wouldn’t return?
When I open the door, Fox’s cologne tugs at my heart. Our rooms are still attached, but I’ve been gifted an extra door to enter and leave.
The castle knew he wouldn’t return.
Blinking away tears, I pick up one of Fox’s crumpled shirts but hurry into my room as if his ghost is chasing me. The jar of stolen wisps casts flickering light onto my collection of treasure . . . including the portal stone back home. Suddenly, I’m back in the temple, Fox’s desperate eyes boring into mine, his voice cracking as he pleads with me to understand.
I inhale against his shirt, hoping his scent will banish my doubts. Without him, I have no allies here except Geraldine, Max, and Peggy. Maybe the best thing to do is take them back to Elphyne. At least they’ll be safe there.
Varen’s hint of honey and jasmine is subtly curled within Fox’s comforting woodsy scent. The tightness in my chest eases as I think of him. He might communicate in nonsensical code, but I often see intelligence lurking in his warm gaze. Maybe Fox hugged Varen when he fed him sustenance. Or maybe Varen planted his scent here because he knew I’d return and have doubts.
He might have seen in a vision how distraught I’d be after returning without Fox . . . and Tinger. My wounded palm touches my sternum, a reflex of seeking out the pendant.
