A mesmerising fire burnt in the marble grate. Flames of every shade of blue danced and flickered, warming the room without making the ice weep. It had to be enchanted, there was no other explanation. Were the cakes enchanted too?
They’ll almost never harm a guest who has been invited to dine.
Pansy’s words crash-landed in my head, and my hand lurched for the cakes, snatching one up and stuffing it into my mouth whole. Pansy threw an incredulous glance in my direction before selecting a cake of her own with a daintiness I hadn’t managed. I didn’t care. My drowsiness had lulled me into complacency. The fae may be beautiful and even appear kind, but Pansy had made it quite clear that they couldn’t be trusted. If I was to spend the night in a palace full of tricksters, I had to take precautions. Eating the cake was a necessary evil.
Lady Celyn’s eyes snagged on me as I plucked up a second cake, but she turned her attention back to Sage. “I will have a team of my best warriors made ready to escort you.”
“No, thank you.” Sage shook her head. “Too large a group will draw unwanted attention.”
Was she mad? A few burly fae soldiers were just what we needed as we headed into enemy territory. Monsters lurked around every corner, and as no human had survived the quest before, I’d take any help that was offered.
Never make a bargain with one.
Did this count as a bargain? Was that why Sage refused? Pansy should have been more specific because her warnings paled in comparison to the temptation of the fae’s offer. Maybe that was the whole point. Maybe they made offers that seemed too good to be true, only to trick poor, unsuspecting souls into eternal servitude.
“I would request teleportation to Tir o Gaeaf, though,” Sage continued. “I have coordinates.”
“Of course,” Lady Celyn replied without hesitation. I waited for the catch to come, but she only said, “I’m certain there are some amongst us who have travelled to the area you require. As soon as you are ready, we will deliver you. Though, perhaps a meal and a bed for the night would be in order.”
“That would be welcome, thank you. We leave at dawn.”
I stifled my groan, turning it into a yawn. Lady Celyn noticed and gave me a sympathetic smile. “Rooms are being prepared as we speak, Aliza. What is your favourite dish? I’ll have the kitchens prepare it for you.”
Don’t make bargains, but do accept hospitality. My instincts warred against each other, but Pansy had definitely mentioned food offering protection. Besides, I was famished.
“I guess fajitas are too much to hope for?” At Lady Celyn’s blank expression, I pressed on. “Madras? Thai green?” There wasn’t as much as a flicker of recognition at any of the meals I mentioned, so I sighed, fixing a smile onto my face. “Whatever the kitchens have will be fine, but I don’t eat any meat or fish.”
Sage gave a tiny roll of her eyes, looking away as though I was something shameful, but Celyn smiled. “That can be arranged. Now, come, I shall show you to your rooms.”
My room turned out to be another sprawling suite, grander even than Lady Celyn’s. The style was the same, but it was larger, located on the top floor of the palace. The newly lit blue fire had yet to drive the lingering chill from the air, but huddled in a blanket before the enormous windows, I didn’t care. Not when my room offered an unobstructed view of the wisps of green and purple light weaving across the black sky like an ethereal ribbon.
In only a few hours’ time, I’d arrive in Tir o Haf, the kingdom where no free fae, witch or elf dared to wander. Only those trapped by Maelgwyn’s wards, and those loyal to him, dwelt there. The last human to venture there had been Georgina, and I didn’t need to know the details of her death to understand how slim my own chances of survival were.
That I’d made it this far was a miracle. In all honesty, I should have died in the caves. I should have cracked my skull on a rock or drowned in the river. I should have had my essence sucked out by a shade, or my blood drained by a vampire. I was no survivor. I was an indoor girl, a city girl, but against all odds, here I was. It was almost as though something wanted me to be here. Like I’d been protected and guided this far by something more than witches and vampires. Something mysterious and powerful. Fate, maybe. As terrifying yet comforting as that thought was, I couldn’t bring myself to hope that I might really be the chosen one. That I might survive tomorrow.
What if I never made it home? Was this it? Were these the last hours and days of my life? Had everything been for nothing?
I would become just another name in history. Another ill-fated attempt. Two hundred years from now, would the witches assess a new woman while muttering ‘at least this one has normal hair, not like Aliza with an A’? I’d be just another failure.
The weight of all my hopes and dreams settled on me, as though they knew they’d soon be scattered to the wind, lost in the ether. As though they wanted to be close to me, this near to the end. I clung to them, needing to pretend there was a future for me beyond whatever lurked in Tir o Haf.
Beyond the princes and their curse.
13I Draw The Line At Spiders
Sage was true to her word. The sky beyond my window had barely begun to lighten when I was dragged from my bed and ordered to dress. Though my room had warmed overnight, it was Baltic outside as a pale, champagne light glittered on the snow. Mist hung in the air. I smoothed my glove over my hair. Wasn’t it enough that I was going to my death? Did I really have to suffer frizz as well? Would the witches take my body back to Nairsgarth and tidy me up for my funeral, or would I be left to rot where I fell?
My breakfast churned in my belly. Maybe ladling all that sugar into my porridge had been a bad idea.
The palace was warded, which apparently meant we couldn’t teleport from within its walls. As such, Lady Celyn, wrapped in an elegant coat trimmed with a fur collar and cuff, led us out of the grounds and into the city. The team of silent fae she’d brought along shot furtive glances in my direction. Every one of them was tall and beautiful, with clear skin and eyes that were just a little too vibrant to pass for human. The gleaming shades of blue, green, amber and brown made it hard to pretend I hadn’t noticed the attention I was getting. Did any of them really believe I’d be the one to break the curse, or were they getting an eyeful before I was shredded apart by the howling creatures Jacques had warned me against?
Nobody spoke, not even Pansy. The thin, cold air pricked at my eyes, or maybe it was just my impending doom making them water.
The broad square outside the palace gates was quiet at this ungodly hour, and the streets were still. In the distance, through a sheer veil of mist, the dark shadow of the forest crowned the lip of the valley. I hesitated. Was it too late to change my mind? I might not be able to go home, but there was nothing to say I couldn’t live out my natural life in Neath. There was no law that said I had to risk my life to break the curse that had absolutely nothing to do with me. I could sprint for the trees. Safety lay in that direction.
If I chose my safety, people would continue to die.
I turned my back on the trees and trudged after my companions.
A mane of burning red hair obscured my view, and my damp eyes shifted to Lady Celyn. The cold suited her, casting a rosy hue over her porcelain skin.
“This is where we part ways, Aliza,” she said solemnly. “It has been an honour to meet you, and host you here at the palace. I wish you every luck on your quest. I have a parting gift for you.”
One of her companions, a man–male–with honey-coloured hair, stepped to her side, offering her a long wooden box. Celyn opened it, revealing an ugly necklace. A grey-blue oval gem sat in an ornate twist of gold.
“This pendant belonged to the first queen of the fae, Claudia, who ruled sixteen thousand years ago. Each court was entrusted with safeguarding an heirloom of hers. This is Tir o Gaeaf’s, and now, I entrust it to you.”
Sixteen thousand years old, and they were just handing it over to me?
“Oh, it’s lovely,” I lied, “but I really can’t accept it.”
“You must. Queen Claudia was a seer, and she knew you would come. She left this to you. The other heirlooms are yours too, but of course, their courts and safekeepers have long since fallen.”
“Oh.” What could I say to that? If some batty, ancient queen had seen fit to foresee me in her will, it would be churlish to refuse. “What about all the other women who tried to break the curse?”
Had the fae palmed it off on them, only to pilfer it from their corpses when they failed?
