There was something hard and cold on top of her head; the temperature felt soothing against her fiery skin. Drawing a deep breath, she reached for the wonderful, mysterious object responsible for keeping her from overheating.
Then she heard the voice.Avalon!And then she remembered.
The Iron Blind; the sacred stones; the Dark Elves that had nearly killed her.
Sable was still shouting inside the mask, begging for Avalon to notice her.Have you forgotten the most important part of this whole mess?
“Of course not,” Avalon slurred, smiling despite herself. Even though she knew there was no one in the room to hear her, she checked anyway. And then she smiled wider as she pulled the mask down to cover her face.
I thought I’d lost you,Sable was saying. Beforeyou fell asleep in the Iron Forest, you told me you would put the mask back on when you woke up. I didn’t know what was happening until Hadrian brought you here, and he put the mask on you after they administered the antidote—
Wait,Avalon cut in. Her mind was reeling.Who isthey?Where are we?
We’re at the Elven House!Avalon could hear the excitement in Sable’s voice.
The Elven House?Avalon sat up slowly, clutching her head as the room spun.How much ground did Hadrian cover while I was out?
Sable snorted.A lot, apparently. It’s a good thing he’s Fey or you might’ve died before he got here.
The room she was in was…well, snug, to say the very least. The bed was entirely round—and so was the room. The curtains on the windows were woven from golden lace that glistened in the sunlight, and a brick fireplace stood proud in the enter of the room. An oak table sat by the windows, and scattered across its surface were gilded roses, winged perfume bottles, bunches of dried herbs, and books so old the covers were cracked and peeling.
The door opened without so much as a knock, and Avalon pushed the mask up onto her head. A beautiful copper-skinned Elven girl with willowy limbs, almond-shaped eyes, and a fall of dark hair entered the room, a silver tray in her slender hands. Balanced upon the tray were two teapots, a stack of three cups, and a saucer of lemon wedges.
When she saw that Avalon was awake, she released a squeak of surprise and paused in the centre of the room.
For a moment, they stared at each other in silence.
And then the Elven girl flashed a smile so radiant it was almost painful. “I am pleased to see you are awake, Lady Avalon.” Even while burdened by the heavy tray, she curtsied gracefully, the silver of her dress gleaming like the inside of a seashell. “We were worried the poison might have spread too far, but I am happy to see that was not the case.” She stepped to the tea table beside the bed and slid the tray onto the glass surface.
“Who are you?” Avalon asked, trying her best to resist the urge to stare. The Fey were a beautiful race indeed, but this girl was no Fey. She was Elven.
“My name is Kyrie,” she said as she lowered herself into one of two chairs set up beside the bed. “I’m the daughter of Lord Ossir of the Elven House. Your presence here is welcome.”
Hadrian entered before Avalon had a chance to reply. His footsteps were hesitant, as if he expected Avalon to still be asleep. When he caught sight of her, awake and well, the straight line of his mouth loosened in surprise.
“Hadrian!” Avalon exclaimed.
He rushed to her side and took her face into his hands, his touch so gentle it brought an ache to Avalon’s heart. For a while, he simply studied her face, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. She was so happy to see him, she nearly burst into tears. How long had she been unconscious?
“You’re alive,” he whispered. Avalon was vaguely aware of Kyrie quietly hurrying for the door, the silk folds of her dress sighing across the floor.
“Please,”Avalon scoffed with a wave of her hand. “It’ll take a lot more than a couple Dark Elves to kill me.”
She was starting to believe that.
“I certainly hope so,” Hadrian said. And then he kissed her.
42
Two days passed in the Elven House, and for those two days, Avalon slept. When she wasn’t sleeping, she was resting. Hadrian brought her food and water several times a day, and when he wasn’t urging her to eat, drink, or sleep, he would read to her.
There was a library of stained glass and marble on the main floor of the House, and Hadrian showed no signs of tiring as he read to her from the stack of books he’d borrowed. Books about dragons and trolls and humans doing remarkable things. Avalon hadn’t believed it possible, but she was falling more in love with Hadrian with every eloquent word that came off his tongue.
Every time she fell asleep, she saw a new memory. Sable and her brother baking bread in the kitchens at the House of Ice; Sable and Levon racing each other through fields of flowers; Sable practicing archery in the snowy woods with Rhea and Balthazar.
With every memory, Avalon became more anxious to break her out of the mask. Avalon’s entire life had been spent under the suspicious watch of her father’s guards. For as long as she could remember, she’d felt trapped. The life she was born into was a cage, luxurious yet suffocating. These few weeks spent with Hadrian and Sable was the most freedom she’d felt in…well, possibly forever.
The final memories that came to her as she slept in the Elven House were more like nightmares. The cold seeped into her bones, and her heart began to race as her mind catapulted back ten years, to the woods north of the House of Ice…
