Page 128 of Fallacies

I can’t help but look back, heart pounding in my ears.

“And when you die,” he continues, the blue in his eyes darkening, “the land will still belong to her, but all of you will belong to me.”

The silence that follows is suffocating. I can’t suck in a breath fast enough.

“Alesi,” The Umbra hisses, but I’m frozen to the spot.

The stranger stands from his seat, the scrape of his chair legs like a record scratch. He exhales, the violence in his eyes dimming as he carefully buttons his jacket. “Thank you for dinner,” he says. “It was…informative.”

The Countess throws her napkin down on the table. “Tell us why you’re here!” she demands.

“Alesi,” The Umbra snaps again.

“You mean, tell you why I’m not still covered in shackles?”

I stumble back a step.

“No,” the Countess growls. “I want to know why you’re here.”

He watches her for a moment longer, nostrils flaring as he inhales, but it isn’t anger on his face. At first it’s curiosity, and then…he smiles. “Scared?”

The tension in the room shifts as something mighty fills it, and for a fraction of a second— just a fraction—the Countess really does look scared.

She locks the emotion away just as quickly as it had come on, but the rest of her dinner guests aren’t able to. They all watch wide-eyed and paler than they usually are.

“Answer the question,” the Countess bites out, pressing her palms into the table as she stands.

His face shifts then—into something far less lovely and far more lethal. The straight line of his nose wrinkles, his upper lip pulling back, flashing white teeth and sharp canines. Sharper, somehow, than they’d been last night.

The hair on the back of my neck rises.

“Ask your father,” he snarls.

Then turns from the table, and none of the guards move to stop him as he strides out of the dining room, tall mahogany doors slamming shut behind him.

In his absence, the air of the room shifts. Tension fizzles out into something stale. He took the undercurrent of power, the buzz of dark energy, the violence he exhaled—he took all of it with him.

The sudden parting of it triggers my feet to move. Back one step. Then another.

The Countess glares at the door he disappeared behind, and I turn my back on every stunned dinner guest, heart racing as I hurry back to the kitchen.

Stumbling through the door, the Umbra is there instantly. She rushes into my path, yelling some insult or reprimand that I’m too preoccupied to listen to.

“I don’t feel good,” I force out, uncaring of the way her pupils thin to slits and her face twists in fury.

“Alesi,” she warns, “if you leave this kitchen, so help me, I will send you back to Onyile.”

It’s a threat. One I should be fearful of. Even in the midst of my steep, steep spiral, I know I should be afraid of Onyile, but right now, I fear other things more.

“Sorry,” I mutter, not sure why I even bother with an apology as I scramble past her and to the door.

The Umbra lets out a barrage of curses, her voice spilling out into the hall as I stumble into it, slamming the door shut behind me.

I move quickly, no real direction in mind, and only when I can’t hear the clamor of the kitchens anymore do I slow, drawing in deep breaths as I turn down barren halls.

The curtains have been opened, night having fully settled, and relief rolls off my shoulders knowing I’ll be able to talk to Callan soon. It will take hours of manipulating stars to fully get out everything I need to say⁠—

“There you are.”