Widened eyes and shocked gasps accompanied the end of the tale, but the words only gnarled Elora’s insides. Her stomach churned as memories of a different fire filled her mind. She couldn’t help notice the irony of the fae’s story. He saved the dwarf family with his desire for adventure. But it was only when Elora accepted her arranged marriage—and lack of adventure—that her own parents were killed in a fire.
The thoughts twisted inside her, writhing so fast that tears pooled in her eyes before she had even taken a breath. Her throat ached as she tried to blink the tears away. Her fingers curled into tight fists as she forced herself to take deep breaths.
Those memories were too painful. She couldn’t face them, especially not in the middle of a council meeting. If Brannick saw her weakness, he would surely find a way to exploit it. And who enjoyed pain anyway?
When the prince stood from his throne and began talking about their plans, Elora shoved the memories away and forced herself to focus on nothing but his words. No one needed the distraction more than she did.
“We have two phases left in the testing.” Brannick’s voice seemed different than it had when she first entered the room. Now it seemed stronger. Surer. He stood taller too. “Lyren, Soren, and I are working on the speeches. My speech is the most important, but High King Romany might ask any of you to give a short speech on my behalf.”
Elora sucked in a breath before quiet words escaped from her mouth. “Even me?”
From across the table, Vesper tapped his chin. “Elora has done her part, has she not? Can we not return her to the mortal realm now?”
The slightest flinch went through Brannick’s shoulders before he answered. “Because she helped with the first phase of testing, High King Romany will consider her a member of my council until the testing is over.”
Though pain from her past had churned in her stomach only moments earlier, fear completely crushed it now. Her every thought was chained to the current conversation. “But I’m just a mortal. I don’t know how to give a speech. What if I say something wrong?”
She had already broken many Faerie rules and all of them came with consequences.
“Hush.” Brannick threw her a sharp look before standing straight again. “You have adventure in your blood. You will be fine.”
Fear probably would have clutched her tighter, except Vesper jerked his head toward the prince with eyes so wide the light of the room filled them. A moment later, Vesper turned to glance at Elora. When he looked to the prince again, a weight rested in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
Brannick stood even taller, but it didn’t hide his hard swallow. He gave a brief glance toward Elora. “Lyren will write your speech. You only have to give it.” Now he cleared his throat. “The winner of the speech gets to choose the weapon that will be used in the final phase of the testing, the tournament.”
Now Elora’s eyes went wide. “The winner of the speech chooses the weapon for the tournament?”
Lyren glanced toward the doorway of the room. Her lips parted as if to respond, but she merely stared at the entrance instead. Was she waiting for something?
When silence filled the room for another moment, Brannick took the opportunity to fill it. He was careful to avoid Elora’s eyes no matter how she tried to catch his.
Still her stomach churned. The prince’s entire plan for the tournament rested on him using a sword. That was the whole reason she had been brought to Faerie in the first place. To teach him a weapon no fae would ever guess he could use. And the plan would only work if he first won the speech phase of the testing.
While she continued to attempt to catch the prince’s eye, a sprite flew into the room and hovered in front of Lyren. It spoke with a shrill but quiet voice. “Lyren of Swiftsea, I have a message for you from Queen Noelani of Swiftsea.”
Lyren jumped up from her chair. She barely had enough time to say “Excuse me” before she left the room and entered the nearby hallway. She took her javelin with her.
Brannick gave no reaction to her exit. He simply turned to Quintus, who was still sketching the story of the giant and the fire. After clearing his throat, the prince asked, “Are you almost finished with…” He raised both eyebrows instead of completing the sentence.
In response, Quintus nodded swiftly. “It will not take me much longer.”
Now the prince turned to Kaia. “Prepare the elixir we discussed. I will take it this evening.”
Bark-like striations had broken out across Kaia’s brown skin. Her emerald hair grew stringy, almost like thin, green tree branches. “Yes, my prince. I must return to my tree at once, but I will bring it to you as soon as I can.”
As the dryad left the room, Lyren entered it once again. “Did I miss anything?”
“No.” Brannick shook his head and then waved toward Elora. “Would you return the mortal to her room for me? I must speak to Vesper.”
Lyren’s eyes went alight at the sound of those words. “Certainly.” The quality of her voice had changed. It spoke of deviousness, and even more concerning, desperation.
The fae beckoned as she moved toward the doorway. “I would be happy to take her to her room.”
Even though Elora followed, her knees shook with each step. But that was part of exploring Faerie. Sometimes it meant walking into danger.
THREE
▲▼▲
ANTICIPATION COURSED INSIDE ELORA as she stepped into the hallway. Once no other fae could be seen, she glanced toward her companion.
Lyren’s dark skin was practically glowing in the green light from the sprites above. Her dark curls were looser than usual today, but they still bounced at the slightest movement. “Elora.”
Though the fae’s voice held lightness, Elora could sense something else along with it. The shimmer in Lyren’s brown and silver eyes gave the secondary emotion away.
Fear.
After a single blink, a devious smile stretched across Lyren’s face. “How would you like to visit Swiftsea?”
A rush of excitement leapt through Elora’s stomach. Almost immediately, it dropped as she considered how quickly a simple visit could turn into something darker. She thought of Lyren as a friend, but she knew better than to trust the fae. In Faerie, it was better to not trust anyone.
Taking a step away, Elora narrowed one eye. “Is it safe?”
“Of course.” Lyren reached for the seashell hanging from a silver chain around her neck. Her lips pursed together tight, but it didn’t stop a sputtering cough from erupting a moment later. After several hard coughs, she managed to take in just enough air to squeeze out a few quiet words. “It is not. Of course it is not.”
Smirking, Elora rested one hand on her hip. “Is that what happens when fae try to lie?”
But the fae did not return the amused expression. Instead, focus flashed in her brown and silver eyes. Lyren grasped her seashell even tighter. “I need your help.”
Elora’s smirk fell. The spark of fear in the fae’s eyes seeped into the room around them, thickening the air. When she tried to speak, even her voice felt tight. “What’s wrong?”
“I will protect you if you come with me.” Lyren dropped her hand to her side. She paced the width of the hallway. “I cannot guarantee your safety, but I have my javelin. I am not as good as some, but I am more than proficient.”