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Even from this distance, I could hear shouting voices and the coppery boom of a bell counting the hour. The sounds of a living, thriving city. More than that – of asafeone.
I swallowed an unexpected twang of envy.
‘There we are,’ Delwin said and slowed his horse next to me, as if I might have missed my first glimpse of the town that had featured prominently in my every daydream for three quarters of my life. ‘I know it’s not a fae court, but—’
‘Thank the gods it isn’t,’ I blurted.
That startled a laugh out of him.
We rode on faster, down that hill and across the last meadows that separated us from the city’s open gates. Passers-by cheerfully greeted the guards accompanying me and glanced at me with curiosity rather than wariness; I wondered how much they knew, whether the news of my identity had already made the rounds. Perhaps it had. Perhaps this was what magic was to people who had no reason to loathe or fear it – an exotic, exciting rarity rather than a terrifying weapon.
Gods, to live in a world like that …
But I had no time to marvel at the notion. We were fast approaching the gate of the city proper, and I was once again reminded just how long it had been since I’d last seen a human settlement up close – it was so stunninglynormal, all of it. No jewel colours wherever I looked, no magical light glittering down upon us. Just plastered brick houses and muddy streets that suggested recent rainfall. Dogs and children running around. Signs swinging from storefronts, advertising everything from shoes to fresh bread. It all looked tidy and prosperous, not wild and decadent like the Crimson Court but rather quietlyabundant, a place where no child would ever cry themselves to sleep over an empty stomach.
Not magic. Just happiness.
Had they felt the same breathless disbelief upon arriving here, Valter and Editta? Had they thought of me – had they felt guilty at all? Or had they happily blended into their new life, glad to have left the burden of their unruly fae child behind, without worrying what would become of me in the clutches of the monster who’d destroyed their home?
I tried to stop looking out for them as we navigated the maze of broad streets and narrow alleys, riding at a walking pace now – tried to keep my eyes from hooking themselves onto every greying dark braid, every balding head. But my heart skipped a beat all the same whenever we rounded a corner and happened upon some woman in a vaguely familiar floral dress, and I found myself scanning for a signature every time we passed a mural or a portrait proudly displayed in a shop window.
Would Delwin know them? Could I just … ask about them?
I decided not to, in the end. He would doubtlessly report everything to the consuls, and I really did not need them to think of me as a sentimental child.
It took some fifteen minutes before we emerged from the neighbourhoods of farm workers and craftspeople and arrived in what had to be the heart of the city, where the paved streets were broader and the houses had a more lavish air to them. Here were the parks and the markets and the open-air theatre; here, for the first time, we passed others on horses and even the occasional coach. Delwin was greeted wherever we went. Clearly, I concluded with a sinking feeling that was the very opposite of surprise, the consuls hadn't sent just anyone to pick me up from the gate.
And finally, after rounding a last corner on which a dragon-shaped fountain happily gurgled in the brightening sunlight, wereached the marble building I’d seen from the hilltop outside the city, looking twice as large now that I was standing in front of it. Judging by the similarity to the buildings I’d seen in the dead landscape of Lyckfort, it had to be old – as old as the city itself, perhaps. And yet the façade was still a pristine white, the lily engravings around the doors and windows sharp-edged as if they’d been carved a week ago.
Magic or money. Perhaps a little of both.
‘The White Hall,’ Delwin announced, as if he was the sort of travel guide Valter had told me his rich clients would hire when they could not be arsed to do their own exploring. ‘The consuls have their living quarters and guest rooms in the east wing of the building. You’ll be staying there, too, during your visit.’
Better than an alf steel cell. I climbed from the chaise, still half-prepared for the guards to seize me and drag me into some hidden, sinister dungeon … but they did no such thing, and I forced myself to loosen my shoulders as well as I could. I’d talked this through with Creon, damn it. Whatever the intentions behind that unexpectedly amiable invitation, there was no decent reason for any of the consuls to want me dead, locked away, or otherwise disposed of. As long as I made sure not to break any laws here—
‘Miss Emelin?’ Delwin said, a note of concern in his deep voice, and only then did I realise he must have asked me to follow him inside a moment before.
‘Oh, yes,’ I hurriedly said, swirling around and rushing after him with a weak wave at the other guards. Some of them smiled as they returned the gesture. ‘I was trying to take in the city. It’s a little overwhelming, frankly.’
He held the door for me without an immediate answer, his other hand on the short sword he carried at his hip. His right little finger was missing, I noticed. Training accident or fae punishment – I didn’t know what option seemed more likely.
We walked in silence down the corridor beyond that main gate – grand, but notmagicallygrand, red velvet and marble pillars rather than gem-paved floors and colours so vivid they made you feel like you were learning to see all over again. Only as we climbed a broad flight of stairs to a slightly humbler second floor did Delwin say, ‘I’m surprised to see you so affected, I must admit. I had expected you to find the city quite boring, after flitting from fae court to nymph isle for weeks.’
So theyhadgathered intelligence on my movements in the world outside. I filed that little crumb of information away to consider in a calmer moment.
‘It’s the furthest thing from boring,’ I said cautiously, scanning the corridor around us as I spoke. No way out but the stairs and the window – I ought to remember that, just in case. ‘The magical islands are beautiful, but they also tend to be rather deadly. It’s mind-blowing to me that there are parts of the world where people just … spend their time growing cabbage and mending shoes without having to worry about violence at all.’
He smiled. ‘Ah. That I understand.’
‘You’re not city-born either, then?’ I guessed, hoping that would not be too nosy a question.
‘My parents sent me and my sister here when we were fifteen.’ He pointed to a smaller corridor to our left, where the only decoration was a series of paintings I suspected had been made by a former consul – it seemed the only reason to put the monstrosities anywhere near the main veins of the building. ‘That way, please.’
His tone remained calm, but there was a finality about the last words that suggested no more questions on his own past would be welcomed. Just him and his sister. I wondered where his parents were, now – if he even knew, if he had tried to save up money to allow them to pass through the gate, too, but been too late to save them.
None of that, I supposed, was information he’d share with a little half fae mage he did not trust entirely, even in the most optimistic scenario.
I remarked upon the paintings instead, and he informed me they had been created by the wife of the late Consul Lowell, beloved for his support of the city’s artists. Our path subsequently led through a dark corridor that seemed too narrow for its surroundings – ‘This shortcut has only been here for a few decades’ – and past a barely legible memorial plate – ‘The only consul who was ever murdered died here’ – to finally arrive at a locked wooden door. Delwin drew the key from his pocket without hesitation, confirming my suspicions that he was certainly not the first guard they’d happened to find available.
