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I stared at her in confusion, but before I could scramble for words, a blank-eyed human stepped between us and poured golden liquid into the wineglass in front of me. I stiffened, darting a glance toward the king and queen. While Nerissa was ignoring me, laughing and talking to a grey-skinned fae who’d approached her, Preston’s gaze pierced me. Disgust and foreboding crawled over my skin.
Play along. Quiet Florentia.I reached a trembling hand toward the stem of my glass, not breaking my gaze from Preston’s. Did I dare pretend to drink? To take a small sip?
Did I dare to defy them and pour it out?
The servant stepped away and the pale-skinned woman at my side opened her mouth as if she were about to press me with her questions again when all chatter at the table died and a figure came bolting through the doors.
“Your Majesties!” the horned man cried, and for all his fae grace, he nearly tripped in his haste as he rounded the guards who’d stepped forward upon his abrupt arrival. He paused before our table, gasping for breath and dipping into a quick bow. “I bring an urgent message from the border—our forces are in dire need of—”
“You burst in unannounced and uninvited on this most important night?” Queen Nerissa’s tone was sharp as a knife as she interrupted him, standing from her seat.
The man blinked and stammered something unintelligible.
Queen Nerissa waved her hand impatiently. “Guards, escort this messenger to a waiting room. We will speak to him later, when he’s not interrupting this important night with our guest.” Her gaze shot to me, something eerily hungry in her expression.
After all she’d all but ignored me at the start of this feast, I found it strange she was speaking as if my presence and thisfeast were so important. Especially when there was an ongoing war with lives at stake. But guards ushered the messenger out swiftly, and as Nerissa settled back into her chair, everyone around me returned to chatting and eating, some shrugging carelessly as if they were interrupted with urgent messages daily.
I braced myself for my pale companion to return to prying me with questions, but this time, a woman across from me stood on her chair, clapping her hands and startling the room into silence. The king and queen both beamed, clearly not upset with this interruption. I concealed my frown at the informality of someone standing on their chair at a feast. What would have been shocking and humiliating back home, however, was met with applause and cheers from the rest of the fae.
With white hair cascading down her back and a wizened old face, she wasn’t like the high fae around her. She was a hag, with crooked fingers, yellowed teeth, and a bent back. She didn’t possess the startling, endless beauty of immortals like Nerissa and Preston. And yet, she moved energetically, and her eyes seemedyoung. Despite the crow’s feet surrounding them, they were clear and lovely and deep, full of ageless wisdom matched with a strange sense of youthfulness. She was ancient, but she retained the energy and grace of an immortal. “I have been called upon to share a story,” the hag announced in a raspy voice that still managed to carry and echo throughout the space, to every single table.
It hardly seemed possible, but the room seemed to become even stiller and quieter at her announcement. Everyone leaned forward, entranced, and for an instant, I was caught up in the magic of the moment as well.
The hag lifted her age-spotted hands, spreading them wide as...soundsrushed into the room. Winter wind howled around us, followed by the crunch of footsteps in snow. The cries of babies and the laughter and chatter and music of dances andcelebrations. As the noises died down, the hag raised her voice once more. “I am a Memory Keeper, older than Silverfrost itself. I have witnessed and stored the history of this kingdom, from its founding to the tragic moment that nearly became its downfall. Listen as I share. Those who were there, remember with me. Those who were not, learn and do not forget these lessons.”
Once more, sounds whirled around us, like drifts of the memories the hag stored were all being carried to us on an unseen breeze. She moved her hands as if she were a musician, directing the memories like a song. “For centuries, the Silverfrost family ruled our kingdom with strength and power. Their fierce spirits were only matched by their skill with magic, granted by our land. Many of the Silverfrost line possessed abilities to control the winter wind and snow and ice, just like numerous other fae outside of the royal family can do in our frozen kingdom.” A roaring filled my ears, matching the fury of a blizzard. “Others could manipulate animals around them, like our snow foxes and birds, commanding them to do their will.” The blizzard was replaced by the gentle sounds of a fae woman speaking, intermingled with the chatter of birds. “Some, long ago at the beginning when fae strength was greatest, could even read minds.”
I swallowed back a rush of fear, thanking the silent gods that those powers had died out among the fae long before my time.
“Their might was befitting, for they, like all the fae kingdoms in Brytwilde, had been given an important task by the gods. One that affects both immortals and mortals alike.” This was something I hadn’t learned in Altidvale. Aside from stories about their cruelty and power, or cautionary tales against trusting the fae or wandering into their dangerous lands, the human children of my town weren’t taught much else about the fae.
A sound like stones scraping together filled the air, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand. I grimaced, resisting theurge to cover my ears. “For in Silverfrost,” the hag went on as the scraping sound blessedly diminished, giving way to the sound of a creaking door, “we guard the entrance to the underworld.”
My heart froze. Screams rent the room, heart-wrenching and terrifying. Groans of pain. Thuds of bodies. I sat so rigidly that Garrick, even from his position beside the queen, shot a glance my way. His gold eyes burned into me, but I refused to meet his gaze or acknowledge his attention. I wouldn’t trust him or his false comfort.
“Every winter solstice, the door separating our realm of the living with that of the dead becomes the weakest. It can be manipulated to be fully opened or fully closed only then. The Silverfrosts were granted great power, enough to seal the entrance on that crucial day, keeping those undead monstrosities out of our world.” The inhuman noises sweeping through the room after this proclamation were so chilling, so awful, that I clenched my teeth until my jaw ached. Everything in my mind screamed at me to run, even though the more rational part of my thoughts knew the sounds were merely that. Not the approach of demons or undead things.
“While the kingdom of Ashwood sends the spirits of the dead along to their rest in the afterlife, Silverfrost has the even heavier duty of keeping the restless dead—those who have been condemned to eternal punishment—from returning. Our heavy responsibility is why our kingdom has always valued strength in battle and in the mind. Power to hold back the dark forces beyond death that would drag us all, mortal and immortal together, into ruin and chaos. Into an underworld brought here to our living world, tainting our life, our magic. Everything.”
A shudder coursed through me, but I tensed my muscles, refusing to let anyone see my mounting terror. Imagining creatures worse than the Silverfrost siblings was horrifying. I didn’t want to see what Preston and Nerissa feared.
The hag leaned forward. “Unfortunately, even the greatest power in our land—those with the most potent magic, the best strategic minds, and bodies and training honed for battle...even it wasn’t enough when the creatures of the underworld escaped and ravaged this castle. A mere two decades ago, everything changed for our mighty rulers. Something went wrong. Even I was not here to witness it—not until it was too late. Few survived, and I scarcely made it out with my life.”
More screams erupted, shredding the air with such intense notes of agony that my eyes glimmered with unshed tears. The hag swirled her hands, letting the sounds envelop us with crushing clarity.
“Death came through the door that night,” she announced, “and slaughtered our entire beloved Silverfrost family.”
Silence descended over the room. Heads bowed all around me, the faces of the fae who’d been celebrating earlier turning solemn. One of the logs in a fireplace popped. A jolt of compassion Garrick didn’t deserve pierced my heart as I realized this was the fight that had killed his entire family.
The hag gestured toward King Preston and Queen Nerissa, who smiled contentedly, as if they hadn’t just been listening to a gruesome tale of an entire family being murdered.
“We were blessed that night by our mighty king and queen, siblings from a noble estate across the kingdom, who arrived for a scheduled visit in the middle of the attack. Using their magic, they gave me the chance to flee with these memories I’ve caught for you of that most tragic day. And they cast those creatures back into the abyss. It is under their rule that we have managed to live in relative safety for nearly twenty-two years.”
Applause rang out, wild and fierce.
“But without true Silverfrost blood, our new king and queen could only take that family name and the throne...they could not inherit their most important power. The ability to close theentrance to the underworld and seal its inhabitants inside it.” The hag’s eyes grew even more somber as another awful sound—an ominous breathing with the scrape of claws—permeated the room. “Our only hope is to be stronger and smarter than anything that escapes at night. To subdue those creatures until, someday, the gods send us someone with the power to send them back into the abyss they crept from. This is why we fight to the death. This is why we train. And this is why, when anyone comes forth claiming long-lost Silverfrost blood, we honor yet test them. No liars will be tolerated.”
“And,” Preston cut in, his voice echoing through the room, “this is what makes today so special, and our guest so honored. For it has come to our attention that Miss Florentia Cantwell wants to be tested, to see if she somehow possesses an ounce of this precious Silverfrost blood.” His grin was wide, but it was all teeth.
