Page 40 of Heir of Autumn
“We don’t do that, either,” he said, shaking his head in a most unconvincing way. “That’s more the purview of the Winter Court. And sometimes, the Court of Spring, too.”
“He’s right,” Satchel said, sitting pretty on my shoulder. “Gotta have some quality prisoners to test new poisons on. Some of the queens in the Amanita lineage are more ethical about it than that, but what am I saying? Where’s the ethics in kidnapping humans to experiment on?”
“Okay, you guys,” I said, thrusting my hands up. “Stop. My first trip to the Verdance, remember? A magical, momentous occasion. I really don’t want to think about being hogtied and poisoned right now.”
“I’ll protect you with my life, oh summoner.” Sylvain pressed a quick kiss against my cheek. It felt somewhat reassuring. “That I can promise you. You’re my little human, and mine alone.”
My cheeks went hot, but I nodded, trusting him completely.
“Now, if there are no objections, we should get on with our journey. It won’t be a long one, but Mother is expecting us.”
“Can’t wait,” Satchel said, rubbing his hands together. “I’ve been to the palace, but I never had a chance to meet the queen.”
Sylvain waved his hand across the archway, muttering words in a language I didn’t recognize. The space between the gnarled trees hummed as amber light expanded and swirled within. Color filled the gap, shaped like a large golden leaf, its veins picked out by even more delicate threads of light. A gentle chill radiated from the portal despite the warmth of its appearance.
“Together,” Sylvain said, taking hold of my hand. I smiled and nodded.
“Together,” Satchel echoed, fingers grasping little handfuls of my shirt.
We stepped through.
The archway led into a featureless tunnel of endless gold, or amber, or ocher. I couldn’t decide. The color remained the same, but something about its texture kept shifting, from metal to gemstone to mineral. Just as I opened my mouth to ask how much further we needed to go, I blinked again, and the tunnel was gone.
“And here we are,” Sylvain said, sweeping his arm across the woods before us. “Welcome to the Verdance, Lochlann Wilde.”
On the other side was more forest — a mirror, in fact, of the world we’d left behind. But here the season had changed, none of the greens of the trees we’d just seen on Earth, but a fiery spectrum of all the shades of fall. The air was cool, and fragrant, something familiar and yet so strange. Not cinnamon or cloves, but the ghost of them, the scent that remained in a jar when all the spices had been spent.
“Gods above and below,” I breathed. “This is incredible.”
Sylvain chuckled. “I am pleased that you think so. But you haven’t seen anything yet.”
The leaves fell, brown and red and gold into piles and carpets somehow lusher and lovelier than anything I’d ever seen on Earth. Sylvain pointed up into the branches, explaining that the leaves would regrow in time, continuing the cycle, locking the realm into an eternal autumn.
My pace slowed, as if my body recognized how much I wanted to savor the sight of this eerie and wonderful place. “This is amazing, Sylvain. Always autumn, exactly like you described. I can only imagine what the world is like in the Court of Spring. Flowers forever. I’m sure it’s gorgeous.”
Satchel’s smile was wistful, sentimental. “It was. It is. I’m sure it still is.”
I returned his smile with something that I hoped was more encouraging. I didn’t have the right words to say just then, but someday, somehow, the three of us would visit Satchel’s home kingdom, too.
“Perhaps I should have mentioned this earlier.” Sylvain cleared his throat, then glanced over his shoulder, down the way we came. “This portal we entered is actually located quite close to my mother’s palace. It’s meant for convenience so that diplomats, knights, and courtiers of all sorts can make trips to Earth without having to journey too far.”
“Okay, Sylvain, we already knew you were a very important person.” I nudged him with my elbow, chuckling. “You don’t have to flex on us so hard.”
“Flex?” He cocked an eyebrow, glancing down at his bare torso. Gods, I knew I should have used a different word. “That’s not it at all. I’m only giving you fair warning because we’re almost there.”
“What? Already?” I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to smooth out the wildest of its tangles. “But I’m not ready to meet your — ”
The forest opened up to a wide path that cut straight through, like the trees themselves had agreed to make way for this one disturbance, aligning themselves on either side. More of a road than a path, really, paved in scatterings of stone, as if artfully, almost carelessly cast there, perhaps to evoke a more natural placement. It was broad enough to accommodate several people standing shoulder to shoulder, or even a horse-drawn carriage, and at the end of it was —
My jaw dropped. Sylvain looked from me and back toward the structure that gleamed like a jewel in the forest.
“Yes,” he said. “Exactly. And welcome to the Amber Pavilion.”
The Amber Pavilion was the first piece of actual fae architecture I’d ever laid eyes on, but my instincts told me that it represented the very pinnacle of what they could accomplish. The palace of the Autumn Queen, the seat of Sylvain’s dynasty was so many things all at once.
An enormous ornate jewel box, a gilded temple, a cultivated forest of trees that grew with brass bark and golden leaves. The Amber Pavilion stood in stark contrast to the surrounding forest, burning like a candle from within, casting a soft glow across the forests even in the light of day.
“This is phenomenal,” I muttered, my voice soft, my tone turned reverent in the face of so much unearthly beauty. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
