Page 5 of Facade

“Aniah.” I wiped my face with my sleeve as I sat up. “We’ve been friends a long time. You were there for me in my darkest time. I’m here too.”

“I know, Ryker.” A small smile tugged at my lips.

“Here.” He handed me a water pouch. “Found a river a few miles south. I know we’ve been here before, but something felt… odd. ”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. As if there was something… familiar. I don’t know. My senses could just be off.”

My brows creased as I eyed him. Not much unsettled him, but whatever he’d felt surely had.

As I drank, the sting of the cold water in my parched throat grounded me in reality, pushing the memories back into the little mental box I kept them locked away in.

Neither of us spoke, but the silence that encased us didn’t bother me as much as it did three years ago. Ryker wasn’t much for words lately, but that’s not the silence I was forced to grow accustomed to.

It was the lack of song from nature.

Wherever he was, the crickets grew quiet, furry animals scurried for their burrows, and frogs ducked beneath the surface of ponds. Even the trees didn’t groan as loudly. Nothing made a sound in his presence. Everything feared him here, unlike back home.

“We have a lead,” he said finally.

A sigh brushed past my lips as I turned my attention back to the stars.

3

Evanee

Days often blurred together.

Since I arrived, it’s been nothing but sleep, eat—if I’m lucky—work, repeat. Except for the times I tried to escape. However, despite the relief in my back from the lashings, I stopped my attempts. Every time Cressida messed with my markings, I just knew she was building a thicker wall between me and my memories. I wouldn’t risk them being gone permanently. I couldn’t live without the hope of getting them back.

There’s a dream I’d had over and over, of beautiful mountains that don’t exist in this realm. I knew because I asked Micah about them. The mountains rose high in the sky, and the sun glinted off their snow-capped peaks. Below them stretched a field of purple flowers as far as the eye could see. Mixed with the floral aroma was the crisp scent of cedar and wild mint—nothing like the stale air in this region.

Micah had said the only mountain ranges here were in the northern part of the realm, where the Fae King lived, and that they were rugged and icy. I didn’t know why, but when he had told me that, I was severely disappointed. Then I realized, it was because hope had blossomed in my chest that it might have been a memory. In my dreams, I had felt like I was home.

Too bad it had been a dream.

Today I was sent to the kitchens. It wasn't a common chore for our lot, but we were occasionally assigned when there was an event or the staff was short. The kitchens were my least favorite place to be. The castle always made my skin crawl. Granted, it smelled amazing compared to my usual surroundings.

The older Fae bustled around barking orders to the younger kitchen maids, but still managed to keep it light and fun. I snorted as I watched them—Blanche should take some damn notes. Maybe she would’ve been kinder if she were human, more empathetic, too.

The kitchen wasn’t large, but it did have plenty of counter space for them to stack the heaps of food they were preparing. Apple pies and little cakes topped with edible flowers covered every inch of the wooden counter space. The bright desserts stood out against the bubbling pot of venison stew and vegetables.

“Is something happening today?” I asked the head cook, Astrid.

Like Micah, she tolerated me better than the other staff did. Overall, I think I rubbed most of the Fae the wrong way.

“We received word late last night that a group of the king’s soldiers will be arriving today,” she breathed as she kneaded a lump of dough with ferocity. “I’ve had to work all night to prepare this meal. And did all of my staff show when I needed them? NO!” She punched the dough and then put her hands on her hips, blowing a stray clump of gray hair off her forehead. “It’s been a very long morning, and I still have a lot to do.”

“Where do you need me?” I asked, folding some clean dishcloths lying beside her. As I reached for more, one of the kitchen maids took a not-so-subtle step away from me with a sneer. I rolled my eyes and flipped her off while Astrid’s back was turned, which sent the maid scurrying off with an offended scowl.

Astrid brushed the flour from her apron before fighting the dough once more.

“I need you to go and help Sarah with the dishes. Of course, the dishes from last night’s meal didn’t get washed like they were supposed to. I guess Waylon doesn’t think we have enough to do in the morning, so he was kind enough to leave it all piled in a heap.” She threw the dough down with a thunk.

“And the blasted sink is backed up again, so they’ll have to be washed in the tin outside.”

I nodded, quickly folded the remaining towels—which earned a small, exasperated smile from Astrid—then turned and headed for the side door.