Page 26 of Song of Night

There is another connection I feel, another delicate strand. That one leads directly behind me.

When I finally turn back around, probably an hour later, Zara is asleep on the bed. I watch her from afar, her features soft in sleep, not sharp and fierce as they are when she’s awake. I try to imagine her as a child, growing up with the Animus, living under my brother’s burning hatred of me. Her sister taken from her, Kieran painting me as the target for her revenge.

I understand why she did what she did.

Even so, I don’t know how we can have a future together.

Exhausted, I walk to the small settee in the corner of the room and lay down on it. Sleep claims me moments after I close my eyes.

* * *

It seems only moments later that a hammering sound breaks through my dreams. As I try to claw my way to wakefulness, the sound grows louder, more incessant.

When I finally manage to sit up, Zara is already standing at the edge of the bed, a sheet wrapped around her. Her eyes dart between me and the door. An understanding passes between us: we can either answer it, or it will be broken down.

She turns for the door. I stand and follow her, pulling my pants on and catching up to her right as she reaches it. Her eyes flick to mine once more as she reaches out and unbolts it, then pulls it open. Lord Kell is standing there with a dozen guards.

“The king requests an audience,” he says, no emotion on his face.

“In the middle of the night?” Zara asks, her tone blade-edged.

Kell gestures behind us. I flick my gaze over my shoulder, where the slightest edge of red can be seen on the horizon.

“Ahh,” I say, not bothering to keep the sarcasm from my tone. “Well then, perfectly reasonable. A few moments to get dressed?”

Kell nods sharply.

We close the door again and hurriedly prepare ourselves. Our clothes from the day before had been laundered and placed in the wardrobe, so at least we have something comfortable to wear again, unlike the forced finery for the ball. Zara looks herself again in her form-fitting pants, jacket, and boots, though lacking her daggers. I don my pants, tunic, cloak, and boots also. When we step out into the hall again, Kell turns without a word and the guards file in behind us as we are escorted to the king.

It doesn’t take long to reach the throne room. As we enter, my eyes skim down the length of the enormous room and rest on the man who summoned us here, though it’s such a long distance I can’t make out much of him yet. The room is the size of two large cathedrals back-to-back. Similarly, the ceiling soars overhead, arched and ornate. Angels and demons and strange, twisted woodland beasts are carved into the gray stone along the moldings and fluted pillars supporting the roof. Flaming candelabra line the walls, and stationed between them in intervals, every dozen feet or so, stands a heavily armed guard.

When we draw closer, I can see that Vyrin sits in a massive throne made of some dark metal that looks like it came from the sky. It is ornately wrought and set with so many rubies it looks as if it drips blood like a living, beating heart. Vyrin himself is robed in pale gray in a shade that nearly matches the coronet at his brow. His green eyes bore into me as we approach.

“I trust you slept well,” he asks as we stop before him. His lips quirk up into the hint of a smile.

Still toying with us, clearly. I nod, jaw tight. We have a chance of getting out of here now that our magic is returning. If we can keep Vyrin entertained a bit longer, we may be able to make our escape. Just a bit longer…

Vyrin shifts in his chair, leaning back, gaze swiveling to Zara. My body goes rigid. I don’t care for his attention on her in the slightest.

“And I hope you both enjoyed the festivities last night?” His eyes dip to the puncture wound on Zara’s wrist where the blood fae bit her. “I think it fair to say that I am a magnanimous and hospital host, am I not?”

I feel a knot growing in my stomach. There’s a manic gleam to Vyrin’s eyes that sets my nerves on edge.

“Well, as much as I’d love the celebration to continue, it is time to move on to the reason I summoned you here.”

Zara’s shoulder brushes against mine where she stands next to me, and I can feel the tension running through her body, too. I’d told her last night that we had more time to plan an escape. I have the sick feeling that I’m about to be proven very, very wrong.

“For over two centuries, our people have been cut off from each other. That waste that encircles your city is the perfect defense, I must say.” Here Vyrin’s eyes burn even brighter. “A way to keep precious resources inside, and keep everyone and everything else out. Especially when you don’t want the outside world to take back what you stole. To seek revenge for treason of the highest order.”

I go still, my blood slowing in my veins. “Of what do you speak, Vyrin?”

“I speak, son of the demon king,” Vyrin snarls, “Of your theft of all the magic in Aureon.”

Chapter Seventeen

ZARA

I flinch away from the fae king as his words hit me.

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