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“Tithe may not be standing by the time we return,” Auriol reiterated, looking between Faenir and I.
“What has our captive revealed?” Faenir asked coldly. He sat on his throne, arms resting on each side whilst he twirled a pomegranate around his hand. He always had something in his hand, testing the limits of his renewed power. Days since he’d laid the crown upon his head with the rotting carcass of Claria beneath him, his power had changed.
Even as my sister spoke to him, his focus was never entirely on her. He watched the pomegranate, waiting for its pink skin to melt to black rot.It never happened.
“Claria paid a price of power for Gildir to take me from Tithe. He had no problem gloating about the exchange of magic in which Claria had paid. Taking it from the protection around Tithe to regain energy to open the door between our realms. If the Watchers have failed, our home will be no more than a feeding ground for the…”
Auriol’s words trailed off as she looked at me. I held her unwavering stare in contest.
“You can say it,” I told her.
“Vampires.”
Faenir reached out and placed a hand upon mine. I was perched on the edge of the throne, one hand occupied, toying with the silk of Faenir’s dark hair, the other gripping a vial of blood, Gildir’s blood.As soon as I felt the singing of hunger, it was safer for me to pop the cork and drink it. It would stave off the famished cry and keep those close to me safe.
“It has been days now and still nothing has been done,” Auriol scorned. Her tight-lipped expression proved that she had far more to say but didn’t. She had taken it upon herself to become Gildir’s keeper, the carrier of the key to his imprisonment. She had yet to tell me what he had, or had not done, when he took her from Tithe. And I learned to keep my questions to myself. Auriol did not need me to protect her, the scratch marks on Gildir’s face had proven that.
My sister was determined and clear-headed. Faenir had not asked for her council, yet she provided it brilliantly when it seemed the rest of the elven realm had turned their backs on the new King.
“Something must be done,” I said to Faenir, my breath causing the strands of hair to dance.
Faenir nodded softly, contemplating. I wished to reach out my fingers and turn his face to look at me, to help ease the deep-set lines of pressure that had pinched his handsome face the moment the crown and its responsibilities rested upon him.“Auriol, I vowed to ensure the humans survive.”
Auriol grimaced, fists clenching at her sides. “Easy words to say sitting comfortably upon a throne.”
I winced. Faenir did not react.
“It is clear your grandmother wished for the same. Keeping us penned in walls like sheep hiding from wolves. You should be more concerned with us humans thriving, not surviving. Stop hiding us away. Deal with the issue that your own magic has ultimately caused.”
Auriol did not require a sword and armour to make her look like a warrior before us. Straight-backed, chin raised high and eyes burning with fierce determination, she was prepared to take the cause in her own hands and save the world.
I smiled, pride swelling in my chest.“My sister is right, Faenir,” I said, catching her quick glance at me. She regarded my smile and her own lips twitched.
Faenir stood from the throne, fingers gripping tighter across the pomegranate until its juices spilled down his wrist. He regarded Auriol. “If all humans share a soul as strong as yours, I do not doubt they will prosper. There are many wounds across your realm and mine that need healing. I only wish you to consider staying with us to provide your strength to aid them.”
Auriol had made her wish to return to Tithe abundantly clear, and I had not tried to change her mind. It was her choice to make, not mine. Those lessons had been hard learned.Much had been said between us since Claria’s death, and still there were many things left unsaid. I revealed the promise I made to our parents and what I had done to ensure it was kept.I did not do so to encourage her forgiveness for my actions and control, nor had she given it to me.
It took a while for her to look at me for more than a fleeting moment. When she did, she would usually avoid my eyes, now deep red like swirling pits of blood, instead of the once blue and brown that we shared.
Yet it was Auriol who had collected Gildir’s blood during her visits to him in his cage in the deep prisons of Nyssa. It was her unspoken acceptance of what I had become,that was all I had needed.
“Auriol, thank you.” Faenir bowed to my sister as red petals fell from the trees above her. They landed upon her crown of brown hair as she stood tall. “It is a wonder to have your guidance. I only hope that I do right by you.”
If my heart still beat, it would have skipped in that moment.
“What will you do?” Auriol questioned, shifting her stance to prepare to leave us.
Faenir looked over his shoulder to where I sat, lounged across his throne. I still expected him to look at me with loathing at the creature I had become. Never did such an emotion fill his golden stare. In its place was warmth and admiration.
I was no longer living, but beneath his attention Faenir made me feel alive.
“I believe the opportunity is now to infiltrate the hive, to deal with our problems rather than hide them behind walls.”
* * *
Haxton Manor was deathly silent around us. Peaceful.
I picked up the scents of scorched wood and charred stone. It clung to everything. Faenir had done little to deal with the damage of Frila’s lightning. He had revealed that he did not wish to either.
