Page 50 of Fallen Court

Lach scratched at the mark on the back of his neck as if my words triggered the impulse. “That was the second part of my father’s plan. He wanted to establish rules between the courts so that they would stop fearing one another and be united.”

“I’m not sure that worked.”

“He was a bit of an optimist,” Lach said dryly. “But that’s what sent him to the Terra Court. The court that sat on the Axis Mundi was powerful in a different way than the others. It had access to not only fae magic—both light and shadow—but the magic of the earth as well. Its heiress was notoriously private, however. She accepted no visitors and kept few courtiers, save for a trusted few. Her parents had fallen when she was young, still away at school while she settled into her prime, and she’d been yanked back before she was ready to deal with the politics of a fractured court. He thought that if anyone would agree with his ideas, with the need for change, it would be her. So he went to see her.”

“And?”

“She refused to speak to him, but he waited. He had already settled on moving his court, and he wasn’t going to do so without an ally. He stayed for nearly a month before she agreed to see him, and when she did, it was love at first sight. But it was forbidden.”

“Because they were both heirs,” I murmured.

“That’s what we were always told.” But Lach shook his head. “My father wrestled with his feelings toward her, believing she was the heir to her own court. He decided to give up his own throne so that they could be together.

“But his letter to me revealed the truth. Calista, the heir, didn’t come to see him. She sent her penumbra in her place, pretending to be her.”

“What?” I blurted out. “He was in love with a…penumbra?”

Lach nodded. “I suppose it was panic that made her finally come clean to him. She told him the truth. That she was Anastacia, not Calista. Not an heir but a penumbra. She couldn’t let him give up his court without knowing the truth, but it didn’t change his mind.”

I couldn’t fathom how Lach had lived with all of this for years, how he had carried the burden of knowing the truth about his parents when no one else did.

“Calista was furious at the both of them, but she saw a way out of her own predicament. She would pass the court to her younger sister, who was more than happy to lie if it meant claiming the throne, and they would leave to be married in the New World. But when they got here, my father married the real Anastacia—and the lie was spread. My mother became Calista to the world, which believed that the heir of the Nether Court and the heir of the Terra Court had wed. My father’s penumbra was happy to be relieved of service. He took a binding oath never to tell the truth about what had happened. Calista, the true heir of the Terra Court, stayed out of sisterly devotion, pretending to be my mother’s former penumbra to sell the lie. And when we were born, she became Aunt Stacia and slowly, anyone who might have known the truth forgot.”

“And they never told anyone?” I could hardly believe it possible they kept a secret like that for so long.

“He left the letter for me. I think he suspected they were going to their deaths and that when that time came, there would be no way to hide the truth. If the Terra Court bloodline fell, the magic of the throne would not pass to me, and everyone would know it was without a true heir. Without someone from its bloodline to claim the throne, another could try to claim the Axis Mundi for their own court, and in doing so make themselves more powerful than all the rest of us combined.”

He turned haunted eyes on mine. “And so I found myself, still in uniform, holding a letter that could tear our world apart when Oberon and Bain arrived demanding I choose between my courts.”

Not a choice at all.

“But the throne is without an heir now,” I said slowly, trying to ignore the weight of the ring on my finger. “Why has no one tried to claim the Axis Mundi?”

“Everyone believes its magic runs in my family’s veins—that I might have given it up in that moment but that I would not allow it to be taken by another. I’ve made sure they feared me, feared what I would do if they crossed me.”

“But Oberon…” Now I understood why he wanted this ring.

He nodded as if he could read my thoughts. “I didn’t see it coming. I have no idea how he knows or what he suspects. But there’s only one reason he wants that ring.”

To claim the Axis Mundi and with it the magic of both our worlds.

“And if he had it, the first thing he would do is wipe away any competition.”

“He said if I gave it to him, he wouldn’t touch your family,” I whispered.

“Haven’t you learned yet, princess? The devil is in the details. He might not touch us.”

But he could find others who would, and I had almost given him the key to everything he wanted. Bile rose in my throat. I was going to be sick, but I choked it back.

“He said something about magic converging.” I tried desperately to remember everything that had passed between us. Oberon had lied to me about many things, but he hadn’t hidden his desire to claim the throne. “That without the Terra Court, there would be chaos.”

Lach nodded, his face growing solemn. “Our magic is changing, mixing together in strange ways. Aurora spoke to me at Mabon, asked me to consider reclaiming my mother’s throne. She told me that Sirius is convinced the problem stems from the lost Axis Mundi.” He rubbed his temples. Aurora was a friend and the heir to the Astral Court. Her younger brother, Sirius, tended to have ideas of his own. “I couldn’t tell her the truth. If anyone knew… But I’d suspected as much for years and had been searching for Stacia—I mean, Calista. The real Calista. I had begun to think something terrible had happened to her, and then you showed up wearing that ring.” He stopped. We were only a street away from the Avalon, and this conversation felt far from over. “I should have told you the truth, but I didn’t know if I could trust you. If anyone else found out, they might have tried to take it to go after the throne.”

I shook my head. “Well, genius, you didn’t tell me, and they almost did.”

“That fact hasn’t escaped me.”

“So, no one else knows?” I lifted an eyebrow.