Page 30 of Immortal Sins
“Where did you learn to ride like that?” he asks.
His clear, friendly gaze warms my ears.
“Woodside, California.”
Colorful crops flank the road on each side. Wheat, tobacco, and canola plants bristle in the wind.
“California is where all that Hollywood stuff takes place, right?”
I nod.
He huffs. “Humans. After beheading most of their kings and queens, they created new ones to worship.”
He’s not half-wrong. “Why is there no electricity in Faerie? Rumors have it that the Fae chose to keep the realm stuck in the Middle Ages to enforce their hold on the mortals.”
The gelding falls in step with my horse.
“How do you expect electricity to behave in a place where even time glitches out of control?”
I nod in understanding. The gossip I heard growing up—like so many things I’ve heard about Faerie—was a twisted, vilified version of the truth.
“A life without technology must sound unappealing to you, but for us, it’s the norm,” Flynn says with an edge of dreaminess.
“It’s not all bad.” I point to the sky. “I’ve never seen so many stars before. It’s beautiful.”
Flynn closes his eyes and draws in a long, delighted breath. “It’s home.”
12
UNIFORMS AND COURTESANS
Mellen, the infamous capital of Faerie, is tucked between steep cliffs and the open sea. Dust blows over the winding road leading to the capital’s gates. Hooves clank along the well-traveled path in a comforting beat.
The last two days passed in a blur. We stopped to rest a few times and shared the Fae equivalent of protein bars. According to Flynn’s watch, the time “zone” switched on us again, and hours pass here about as fast as they do in Dark Falls, though, in their timeline, we’ve only been missing for sixteen hours.
The blond Fae points to the top of the cliffs in the distance. “There’s the palace.”
Blue and gold turrets gleam under the red sunlight, and my heart hammers at the grandeur and beauty of it. Carved directly into the mountain, the palace towers above the city. Deadly waves crash at its feet below.
Goosebumps tighten the skin of my arms as we pass the guards, their armors made of some unknown, yellow-tinted metal. Groups of mortals gallop, walk, or wheel past us. Sprites and pixies flap their leathery wings up and down sandy hive-like buildings. The air possesses the same salty and fresh quality I have grown accustomed to at the Academy, and I draw in deep, soothing breaths.
The path slowly ascends, and Flynn stops at an inn similar to the one where we bought the horses. “We’ll hike the rest of the way to avoid attention. We can get the horses later.”
I pat the mare’s neck. “Thank you.”
She neighs.
Flynn pays the horses’ boarding fees to the innkeeper and pulls me along to a tiny staircase chiseled into the rock. “This is a shortcut. Keep your chin down, and don’t meet anyone’s gaze.”
The climb is steep and tiring. Molten air weighs heavily on my shoulders. My calves scream from the abuse, the chafe of the leather boots throbbing on my big toe. Sweat drips down the valley between my breasts, and by the time we reach the top, Flynn’s shirt is soaked through. He guides me through a maze of narrow alleys. “The royal servants live here with their families.”
He opens a wooden door built into the rock wall, and we navigate a steep, uphill tunnel before we emerge in an interior courtyard where palm trees stretch toward the pink-tinged sky. A cloud of steam envelops me.
I wet my lips and taste the acidic, lemony-mist. “Where are we? Where is everyone?”
Flynn pushes me past the thick fog to the fountain in the middle. The square-shaped, open-roofed atrium is surrounded by windowless buildings. White, red, green, blue, yellow, and pink uniforms hang above our heads. Most of them are scandalous, no doubt used by the mortal courtesans Flynn always raved about.
He unclips a white tunic and matching pants from one of the clothing lines. “The royal laundry is washed and dried here. If I’m supposed to sneak us both inside the palace, we have to change.”
