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“We’ll meet you tomorrow morning in Tenny Rocks with the knowledge we need to take down Avren and the First City.” I hang my head, unsure if I should bring up the one thing that’s bothered me for a while. If the other savior is from the First City, will they really be on our side?
“If you’re not back there by ten, we’ll come to get you. Don’t think for a moment we’ll let you rot away in Cirrus’s prison.” Bastian looks from me to Levi.
“Don’t worry, Dad,” Levi drops his brothers’ hands to sign. “I’ll have her back by curfew.”
Bastian draws me into his arms, where his weapons impede our embrace. I wince when the hilt of a knife presses against my chest. He takes my chin between his fingers, so I focus my attention solely on him. “Don’t take any chances in there. Find out what Cirrus wants, keep him talking, and leave. Keep the radio in your pocket turned on so we can hear everything.” With a dip of his head, he kisses me, slow and sweet, showing me he doesn’t care what the others think.
And then they’re gone, leaving Levi and me in the ravine alone with the sound of the waterfall surrounding us.
“This way.” Levi taps my arm and motions to a trail running along the side of the pond.
We follow the narrow path, one behind the other and cling to the wall to prevent an accidental fall into the water. Behind the falls is the entrance to a darkened cave, which must be the way into Frostacre. Two pairs of glowing eyes confirm my suspicions.
The fae guards step out of the shadows and onto the path, blocking our entrance by crossing their spears. One has long blond hair like Quinn and the other, braided silver hair. Both are painstakingly beautiful, sure to lure in unsuspecting travelers.
“State your business,” the blond guard says, seemingly trying to keep a straight face.
The path is wider here, so I step in front of Levi, not wanting the guards to know about his deafness. “We’re here to gain an audience with King Cirrus.”
“Do you have an appointment?” As much as the blond guard looks amused, the silver one appears bored, loosely holding his spear. “The king sets his meetings on Mondays, Wednesdays, and the occasional Fridays. Today is Thursday, so you’ll have to come back with an appointment.”
This is worse than going to a healer in Avren.
I straighten my back, trying to bolster my self-confidence. “Can you tell King Cirrus that Maribel Windsong-Barellis is here to see him, and I only grant an audience with monarchs on Thursdays?” I wink at the silver-haired fae, and his eyes widen. “I also helped assassinate Quinn Malum.”
Levi’s heel slams down on my toe, but I miraculously keep from crying out, though it hurts like hell. He signs, “She means she saw him assassinated when thieves attacked them on their way back from Mafekadi.”
The blond, who can’t seem to keep from turning his lips up into a creepy smile, circles us. “You’re Levi Crassus, Bracken’s cursed nephew.” He lifts his spear and leans on it like he’s having a casual conversation with friends. “Best day of my life was when I helped escort your betrayer mother out of this place. You’re nothing but a symbol of her turning her back on our race.”
“Great.” I rub my hands together, feeling the damp cold of the waterfall. “We’re all friends.”
“Heard the Miscretes took care of Lilibeth when you were nothing but a snot-nosed kid.” The blond’s cruelty has hit a new level, making me want to remove a dagger from my boot.
Levi rests a hand on my arm, unfazed by the insults. “Maribel needs to see King Cirrus.” His level-headedness is amazing to me, but he understands the fae more than I ever will.
“The king will want to see the girl,” the silver fae says, holding his spear in front of him. “Looks like they come as a package deal.”
The guards each grab one of our arms and drag us into the cave beneath the falls.
I struggle against the silver one’s hand. “You don’t have to hold on so tight. We want to go. Remember?”
To my relief, he releases me completely.
I expect the cave to hold the moisture from mist, but it is dry. Torches every twenty feet or so help warm the tunnel as strange music echoes from the walls.
The blond fae rambles on about union benefits and the need for quicker transport from the outer reaches to the court. “I mean, I’m one hundred and ninety-eight years old. I shouldn’t have to walk a mile every time someone shows up who wants to see the king. No regard for the little fae.”
The silver-haired guard ignores him, never showing an ounce of amusement on his face. It makes me wish I could delve into the inner workings of his mind to see what is really going on in there. Probably a yes-man following his orders and not wanting any trouble. There are a lot of guards in Avren like this—wanting to please the Council and earn higher rankings. “Head back to the entrance. I’ll take it from here.”
A few minutes after the blond guard leaves, the tunnel opens into a massive cavern. Luminescent moss and glowing crystals line the walls of the cavern lighting Frostacre. Labyrinths of twisting tunnels branch in different directions from the massive four-story city. Twisted trees with branches that reach for an unseen sky dot the underground landscape, their roots intertwining with the dark earth. Unseelie fae flit through the shadows with ethereal grace, their eyes gleaming with otherworldly light.
I look at the guard beside me, shaking. Beneath the surface, his eyes glow, giving him an almost alien appearance. This is the person I need to trust to get me to King Cirrus, but will it bring him more delight to lead me astray through the twisting passages? The corner of his lip bends upward as if he suspects my mistrust.
Time seems to move differently here, and the boundaries between dreams and reality blur. Intricate illusions dance along the city’s edges, playing tricks on me. At the entrance of a tunnel, I see three guards holding Grayson, Evie, and Bastian bound and gagged, but when I shake my head, they’re gone. In the center of the cavern, by a fountain, I see my mother sitting by the cool water beckoning me to come take a sip. But Levi warned me about Frostacre’s food and drink. The tricks are intense, setting my body into a flurry of emotions, caught between wanting to give in to the dreams and keeping a foot firmly in reality.
To keep with the fluidity of the dreamlike atmosphere, my guard slips an arm around my waist, transfixing me with his eyes. “The king prepares a feast for you, Maribel. He invites you to his private dining quarters.”
Sharp nails dig into my arm, but someone swiftly removes them. I hear Levi’s voice like it’s miles away, drifting through the cloudiness in my brain. “Block him out. You can do it, Mari.”
