FORTY-ONE
FAELAN
Only two more days. Two more days and she’ll decide. I wish I could say for sure that she’ll choose to stay with her blood House, but I can feel a piece of her holding back, as if it’s waiting. I just wish I knew what she needed.
She hasn’t seen Kieran since the hunting party, and she doesn’t seem to care about it. So that’s a relief. I was sure these dreams would somehow draw the two of them together, but only his gifts arriving every morning say he’s still in the game—there’ve been no personal appearances.
The sun is a quarter of the way across the sky by the time she emerges from her cottage. I’m finishing up my morning swim. I climb out of the pool and grab a towel, hiding a smile as I look at her T-shirt.
It says “A druid is my homey” and has a picture of Aelia’s face on it.
Sage sees me noticing. “My tribute from Lia,” she says with a stiff grin. “Don’t judge, it’s really soft cotton.”
She follows me into my cottage and settles under one of the trees next to the nest as I go into the closet and throw on a T-shirt and dry shorts. When I come back out, she’s staring blankly into the ferns and chewing on her thumbnail.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
She lowers her hand to her lap. “Nothing.”
I give her a disbelieving look. She’s been more absentminded the last couple days, and during training she keeps losing focus. It could be stress from the approaching Emergence—we’re all feeling that—but it could also be the dreams. I’ve allowed Marius to take over on that subject—he talks about it with her in the evenings at dinner—but I can see something happening, a distance growing. A part of me is terrified that she’s slowly slipping away.
“You can talk to me about it, Sage.”
She shrugs. “I think I just want to talk about the after-the-day-of-doom stuff. It’ll help me. Like, will I be a high executive? Will I get a plane?” Her snarky smile appears, and the knot in my chest loosens a bit.
“All right.” I wave her into the greenhouse, and we settle in our usual spot under the wisteria. “There are some tests you’ll take after the final ceremony that will help you choose a path. I borrowed the books Aelia used to study for them.”
Sage frowns. “So . . . it’s exactly like being a human. It sounds like college entrance exams. Blech.”
“If college exams are about moving objects with your mind, or making plants grow in seconds.”
She snorts. “Well, I can’t do either of those things. What do you think I’d be good at?”
I’ve actually been considering this quite a bit. It’s my job to make a recommendation at the ceremony, and I knew almost immediately which path would suit her best.
“You’d make a very good tutor and mentor for the younger Otherborn,” I say, watching for her reaction. “Some are brought in at very delicate ages. You could help them feel less alone, to get acclimated in a healthier way, even protect them. It can be a very dangerous time for a newblood. And the long process can be difficult for the more vulnerable.” A reality I know all too well. “You’ve retained your kindness in spite of your difficult childhood. And you have a wildness that draws spirits in and makes them feel safe. It’s a magic all its own.”
She chews on her lip, staring at the ground for several seconds before she looks up at me again. “You really see me like that?”
I hesitate, realizing by the tremble in her voice how much my words mean to her. “Yes,” I say, holding her gaze. “I do.”
She leaves in a bit of a daze, pensive and distant again, so I’m surprised when an hour later she calls me out to join her in the pool, sounding playful. I make excuses for a bit—I’ve been trying to avoid being with her when she’s out there in her bathing suit—but she’s extremely persistent.
Before leaving the cottage, I slide my palm over a cluster of ivy climbing up the wall beside me and steady myself as I pull the buzz of green life into my skin. I need some strength.
I step outside and spot her sliding into the clear water of the pool.
My throat tightens as my eyes take in the sight of her in a white bikini. I’m an idiot. I should’ve known it’d be impossible to pretend she doesn’t affect me.
I have to force myself to keep walking forward and turn my focus to the ground instead of her. But the image of her is squarely under my skin. After only a couple of feedings from me, she’s become a woman. Her curves are supple, her muscles shaped to perfection. The bright copper waves of her hair, grown just past her shoulders now, reflect the sunlight in golden streaks. Her skin is a perfect peach, scattered with freckles, only the scar on her neck from Kieran marring the smooth surface.
It was inevitable that she would blossom once she was able to feed properly and use her powers. I should’ve known that what I saw that first night was because her demi side had been starving for so long. Now she’s exquisite.
Aelia comes down the path through the trees just as I start to back away, heading for my cottage again.
She spots me and points. “Faelan’s here for fun? I didn’t think that was possible.”
Niamh and James trail behind her. James grabs Niamh, picking her up with a hoot and surging forward, leaping into the water as she squeals in protest. Niamh comes up sputtering and scolding as she makes her way back to the edge of the pool.
James gives me a nod while the girls aren’t looking, like he’s making sure it’s all right that he’s around. I nod back. I could not care less if he hangs with Aelia, sleeps with her, even if he’s feeding from her, as long as it’s consensual. The rules against underlings being equals with druids and demis have seemed archaic to me since the industrial revolution.
Niamh climbs out of the water and grabs a towel from one of the chairs, pouting. “You totally messed up my hair, James.”
James leans on the edge and rolls his eyes dramatically. “Oy, pixie, leave it at the gates, will ya. We’re not on show.”
Aelia scoffs, “Silly, James, you’re always on show.”
James just laughs and works his way over to Sage. “Hello, love,” he says, his grin wide, fangs showing. “How’s the ascendance going today?”
“Horrible, as always,” she smirks, sinking into the water.
James turns to me. “You joining the fun, mickey? Or you just gonna loiter?”
“Come on, coach,” Sage teases, splashing me. “Come show us how to breathe underwater.” I want to feel relief at her playfulness, but something about it feels forced.
“Okay, you guys, I have news!” Aelia says, working her way down the pool steps. She holds out her hands, like she’s preparing us all for something big. “So, last night I was at the Dark Circle club, and there was this girl there who’s a shade concubine for Kieran, and she said that our Prince of Shadows hasn’t been seen all week.”
I glance at Sage in time to see her face fall.
“He hasn’t been seen at all?” I ask, not sure I’m buying it.
“Nope. The dark prince is totally missing,” Aelia says, sounding very sure. “No one’s seen him since his freaky party.”
“Why’re you listening to a concubine, Lia?” James asks. “You know they gossip like church ladies at a potluck.”
“Hey,” Niamh says from her chair, offended.
“You know it’s true, dear,” James says.
Aelia continues, “This girl is completely trustworthy. She’s a super-solid part of his House. She said he left that night—the night of the murder party. Since then, he hasn’t popped up anywhere, not even the European compound. And he didn’t go back to New York with Princess Mara.”
“Very mysterious,” James says in a conspiratorial tone.
Sage stays silent and swims over to the far edge. A stone sinks in my gut. She seems concerned about Kieran.
A maid appears down the pathway, looking a bit lost. “Excuse me, mistresses.” She’s holding a black velvet bag out in front of her like she’s a little afraid of it. “A messenger dropped this off for the princess. They say it’s very important. It shouldn’t wait with the other tributes, they say.”
“Who is ‘they’?” Aelia asks her.
The maid just gets a lost look on her face. Whoever they were, they wiped her memory.
I walk over and take the bag from her. “Thank you, Martha.” She scampers away, back to the house.
“Open it, Faelan,” Aelia says, swimming to the edge. She gets more excited than Sage does about this stuff. Sage isn’t even paying attention. She’s still several feet away, staring at the surface of the water.
“We’ll let Sage do it later,” I say. “I’ll put it in her cottage.”
Aelia sticks out her bottom lip, but James kisses it, and she seems to forget about presents for a second.
“I can set it inside,” Niamh says, reaching out. I hand the bag to her and she smiles, curling her fingers around it possessively. Pixies. She’s probably hoping it’s something shiny; she’s sure to open it once she’s in the cottage.
She turns and starts to walk away, saying over her shoulder, “I need to get this water out of my hair or it’ll turn purple again. Can I use your bathroom, princess?”
Sage doesn’t answer.
Aelia unhooks her lips from James. “Yoo-hoo, Sage! She’s talking to you.”
“Oh,” Sage says absently. “Sure. Whatever.” Then she swims over to the waterfall and glides behind it, perching on the ledge there. She stares at the water and moves her legs back and forth, her mind lost now, all sense of playfulness evaporated.
And for the hundredth time, I want to slit Kieran’s throat.