Marl chuffs around his mouthful, then looks suspiciously at my arm. When he drops his prize and nudges my hand, I let it fall open, displaying Rose’s mark. Does he need me to prove who I am?
But the fox doesn’t just look at my hand. Instead, he bites me.
“Agh. Ancestors, Marl! What was that for?”
The fox looks around, then shifts into a very naked male. “For betraying my sister,” he snarls.
Then he shifts back, regathers his food and his feathers in his teeth, and disappears back down the hole before I can process what he said.
“I didn’t even know youhada sister!” I yell after him. “Marl! Get back here!”
He doesn’t return.
Fine. Guess I’m doing this the hard way, then.
Gritting my teeth at the idea of facing the lake at the bottom of the waterfall a second time, I draw my glamour back around me and head through the castle.
But when I reach the courtyard, I halt in my tracks.
The stonework is painted red with blood, the air heavy with the scent of piss and fear. Hundreds of fae have been left to rot, piled atop one another, their faces blank with the ghostly mark of death. Iron crossbow bolts stick out of the corpses, although a few must have survived the initial wave of fire because their throats have been slit instead.
Ancestors.
Suddenly I believe what the leshy and the goblin said. This is a purge. I don’t believe for a second that a single fae will be spared.
This is wrong. So wrong that it makes my gut churn. I don’t care if it makes me weak to admit that. It serves no purpose, no glory, to kill slaves to get back at one person who won’t even see this.
I won’tlether see this. Gentle-hearted Rose will take it too personally.
Still no sign of anyone as I steal through the town, helping myself to a weapon and a handful of feathers from one of the market stalls selling live poultry. I briefly consider taking the whole bird, but then I think better of it. The stalls are empty, making the thefts ludicrously easy—so much so that I might not have even bothered with glamour.
I realise why when I reach the base of the waterfall. The stairs and the great lift are crammed full of people rushing about. I weave between them, catching snippets of conversation about orders for more ships and complaints about having to work so hard on such short notice.
Then comes the worst news of all.
My father plans to sail across the Endless Sea himself, with a new armada. One meant to crush the fae for good. Everyone who can wield a hammer has been drafted into building the king’s new ships.
Fuck.
No good worrying about it now.
When I reach the base of the falls, I hesitate for half a second. Memories of being a child forced towards the drop haunt me, as they always do when I get close to the water’s edge. My hand finds my hair and tangles in it, reflexively.
Am I really going to do this? Dive into a place that’s haunted my nightmares for Rose?
I guess I am.
I’m not a child anymore. I know how to survive down there. Now that I’m faced with it again, the fear I expected doesn’t surface. Cold determination has taken its place, and I jump, feet-first, down into the plunge pool with a splash, uncaring that it will give away my position.
No one will dare follow me.
It’s been over a decade, but the lake hasn’t changed. I let the current float me in the direction of the beach, then cram myself into the passageway, cursing as I almost set off a trip wire.
I know most of Marl’s tricks, though it’s been a long time since I had to think about them. The tunnels have changed—no surprise—and there’s no sign of Rose’s tracks, but I can feel myself getting close to her. Oddly enough, the Call is almost silent.
She may be stuck down here, but she’s not afraid.
Then I hear the sound of her laughter.