Page 28 of Unraveled
“And how many of my people have yours killed?”
We stare at one another in a silence that extends for so long it makes my skin tighten. I open my mouth to answer but shut it without saying a thing. Doubting all I thought I knew. Like that the fae are gone, or the beasts are creatures of the Hunt, when they might be more.
If he is the cursed fae king, then the lunargyre might be his people. Gooseflesh chases across my skin. I remember the dead beast in the machine, and my stomach churns with nausea.
I study his features closely, trying to mask my horror, but I’m not sure I succeed. His jaw works, tight as he pushes the handle down to open the door. The metal hinges squeak, and a vast kitchen comes into view.
The pleasant smell of buttered rolls and roasted meat chases the traces of guilt-driven sickness out of me, and my thoughts narrow to the movement beyond the door’s threshold.
A beast stands in front of the burners. Spindly, long limbs catch the vast light spilling from windows on one side of the room. Pale arms covered by skin so thin I’m able to see the dark veins underneath. I hold still, my skin crawling as adrenaline pushes through my body, and I inch away. One step. I hold my breath. Then another.
“No need to run. Alaris won’t hurt you,” Ash says.
“But I thought all lunargyres are dangerous three days after the blood moon?”
“He hasn’t turned rabid.”
I blink in horror as the beast snaps his head toward me. His movements are choppy as he pauses in the middle of cutting an onion. Unlike the lunargyres outside, this beast’s irises are hazel.
“You brought a visitor?” Alaris’s voice is hollow and distant, and it sends chills down my spine. The lunargyre tosses his onions into a sizzling pan, then moves with uneven steps across the terracotta floors, slightly hunched over, and reaches for a spatula.
“Visitor?” I ask through thinning lips. “More like a prisoner.”
“Prisoner doesn’t have the same ring to it, though, does it?” Ash shrugs and strolls into the kitchen without a glance back. He pauses by Alaris, pats his bony shoulder, and continues on to a long wooden table at the end of the room. “I thought you were hungry?”
The smell of butter and pan-fried onions thickens around us, and my stomach growls loudly again. I’m too shocked to even feel embarrassed anymore. Alaris doesn’t speak as I cross the room, nor does he attack me, but he stares with a thoughtful curiosity that wasn’t there in the lunargyres I encountered before.
Ash awaits me, seated at the head of the table. He crosses one long leg over the other and leans back carelessly on a chair made of sturdy black wood. Though the furniture itself is large,his body makes it look small. He pops a piece of chocolate into his mouth and chews slowly while he watches me approach.
I eye the offerings in front of me with wariness. Glistening roasted meat, and a display of aged cheese and dried fruit. My mouth waters, and I peek at Alaris as he works on whatever is in the skillet with practiced ease.
Could I even eat something he made? I wrinkle my nose as I study his black veins, the baldness of his head, the long fingers that end in even longer nails. Alaris looks alarmingly like a naked mole, with the sharp teeth of a sea monster.
“If our food isn’t to your liking, I can feed you stale bread and water to better suit your pet role,” Ash says with more sharpness in his tone than he’s used before, calling my attention back to him.
He’s frowning at me, like my wariness of Alaris’s cooking is the most offensive thing I’ve done so far. I shift uncomfortably where I stand, lifting my chin to stare him down through my eyelashes. “It’s not that,” I lie. “Are you trying to poison me?”
“Why would I save you to poison you half an hour later?” Ash is wearing an outfit similar to what he wore the night before. Black feathers cover his hands and poke out under his coat’s lapels.
I shrug and take a seat. “Perhaps you’d like to see me suffer...”
“Don’t give me ideas,” he says, reaching for another piece of chocolate. “I guarantee you, your people aren’t offering the lunargyres they capture a nice warm meal before they’re killed.”
Shame burns my cheeks. I know deep inside he’s right. Even before I knew what I know now, it disturbed me what I found inside the machine room.
“Are you cursed? Is that why your people have turned into lunargyres that go into Penumbra when the fae used to ride the Wild Hunt?”
“Perceptive, and yes.”
“Well, my people don’t know about the curse, or that the lunargyres are fae...” I let my words trail off. My heart is beating so fast I feel lightheaded.
“Are you sure?” His eyes narrow, and I swallow deep as I watch him pile food on a plate before he slides it across the table toward me. “Do you think, in all these years, I haven’t tried to reason with your mayor?”
I sit very straight, and whatever hunger I felt before is long gone. What was that my father used to tell me? The three rules I’ve been following ever since I became a librarian, ever since he gave me that stone.
Don’t wander the streets after nightfall, especially during the blood moon.
Don’t leave our home without my protective amulet.
