Page 124 of The Iron Dagger
They neared the grand floor at the end of the cavern. Before them, a fairy revel seethed. Dancers of all shapes and sizes twirled in circles to wild and lilting music. Wings, cloven hoofs, and feet leapt and fluttered. The laughter and chatter of the strange fae tongue was infectious, and the beat of the skin drums was impossible to ignore. Despite herself, Hara could feel her feet itching to join them. Gideon grasped her hand, and her head cleared as though he had nudged her awake.
As they ascended the stone steps, the music stopped and the revelers ceased their hypnotic dance. Adira led the way, slicing through the crowd as though she were a ship through choppy water. Hara tried not to gawk as all manner of fae creatures gazed upon them with yellow, violet, and spring green eyes.
The sea of faces eventually parted enough to reveal a set of thrones at the top of the hall. In the throne to the right, a toad-like fae man with silvery robes sat with his mottled cheek resting in his webbed hand. But in the grandest seat sat a small fae woman, nearly swallowed by the enormous gown she wore.
Above the voluminous dress of white spidersilk peered a pale blue face with delicately pointed ears. She was smaller and more frail looking than Adira, and her eyes were so large they were almost bulging.
Standing at her side, another toadlike fae whispered into her ear at their approach.
“My sister,” said Armot in a surprisingly deep and husky voice. “How dare you show your banished face here.”
“We come to deliver a warning,” said Adira. “The Maw is destroyed.”
Gasps and shrieks rose from the crowd of fae. Armot sat unmoving in her chair.
“Corvus’ men are coming tonight, and when they see what has happened, they will seek to blame someone,” said Adira.
“And who is to blame?” said the toad-like councilor in a throaty voice. “The stone has remained intact for thousands of years. What has happened to it?”
Hara nervously waited to see what Adira would say.
“Iron was its undoing. It was completely by chance, but now all those who were imprisoned are free,” said Adira, gesturing to the sorcerers.
“So, you have brought them here to enact your vengeance,” said Armot, leaning forward in her seat. “You, who spoke out. You, who have always seeked to take from me what should have been mine.”
“Armot . . .” Adira said, her carrying voice grown soft. Caelon shifted uncomfortably. Adira glanced at him, then she continued in that soft tone. “I am not here to seek retribution. I only want to warn you that this place may not be safe come nightfall. The court must move.”
“Corvus promised us protection,” said the toadlike councilor. “He would never move against us.”
“That protection was conditional,” said Adira. “Without the stone, their promises are worthless.”
“What has Corvus given you after all these years? What has changed?” Caelon’s voice rang out. “There are no fae at court, and we are not welcome in the city. Our world has shrunk thanks to their lies.”
Armot turned her bulging gaze to Caelon and her furious expression lifted, as though she had not expected him to speak.
“We chose to withdraw to the mountain. We do better among our own kind. It has always been so.” She said.
“But it was not what was promised,” said Adira, weariness tinging her patience. Armot’s gaze snapped back to her sister, shrewd and bitter once more. Instead of addressing the truth of Adira’s words, she changed tack.
“If you are not here to get revenge, why did you bring a legion of sorcerers at your back?” asked Armot.
“They have agreed to help defend the fae from Corvus. These are the people you helped imprison, and yet they have offered their support.”
“I don’t believe it. There is something else at play here,” said Armot. “There is another reason they came, and there is another reason you are here.”
Her gaze roved over the sorcerers, and her bulging eyes seemed drawn to Hara.
“You smell of iron.”
Hara realized too late that she still wore the iron dagger under her cloak. Her insides were twisting as Armot stood from her throne, voluminous gown unfurling. She raised her arm and pointed a sharp finger at Hara.
“She is the one who did it. She is the one who destroyed the stone and brought doom upon our heads. She is the one to blame!”
Gideon stood before her as the fae creatures around them began to close in on them. Hara clutched at the dagger and unsheathed it, pointing it at the closest fae that was trying to grab at her with spindly fingers. It immediately retreated at the sight of the iron, and Hara swung in a circle so that all could see it.
“You need to leave this place,” Hara said. “Corvus’ men are coming, and they have weapons more terrible than iron.”
“See how she brandishes the iron as a threat!” shrieked Armot. “Seize her, seize them all!”
