When I don’t respond, he lets out a sigh. “I have some things I must take care of today. Will you be okay by yourself for a while? It may be late before I’m able to return.”
I nod, feeling like shit for what I’m about to do.
He starts to say something else, stops and squeezes my hands instead. Then he plants a kiss on the top of my head, turns, and walks away, back to his responsibilities as Atroth’s sword-master. It still hurts, being second to his king.
I don’t go inside my room after he leaves. Being alone with my thoughts? Not a good idea. Instead, I find my way back to the sculpture garden. What I’m planning is risky—I could be betrayed or end up imprisoned or worse—but I have to take the risk.
It doesn’t take long to find who I’m looking for. He’s here, sitting on a bench beside the statue of a cirikith, one not tethered to a merchant’s cart, but wild and rearing, his stone scales intricately carved. When my shadow falls over the fae, he looks up from the document he’s reading.
“My lord,” I say in his language. “Do you still want to earn your daughter’s forgiveness?”
TWENTY-ONE
IF I DIDN’T have a prison break to distract me, I’d spend the rest of the day . . . Well, not crying in my room—that’s not me—but definitely wallowing in some kind of despair. Instead, I all but pace a rut in the stone floor because I’m nervous as hell waiting for dusk. A million things could go wrong tonight.
Truth is, I think our plan sucks. It’s Lord Raen’s plan mostly. He thinks no one will stop him from dragging me through the basements because he’s a high noble. I tried to tell him “fat chance” in Fae, but apparently that idiom doesn’t translate. After he spent half a minute frowning in confusion, I finally just shrugged my shoulders. He took that as a stamp of approval.
And maybe his title will get us to Naito and the other human, but Raen wasn’t so clear on how we’re going to get them out. He just told me to trust him. He’d take care of it. Even though I’m having a difficult time taking people on faith these days, when the sun finally sets, I’m waiting in the corridor he designated, leaning against the wall and trying to look inconspicuous. Unfortunately, I can’t control the edarratae on my hands and face, and even if I could, I’d still look human. There’s just something different, something unexciting, about my race when compared to the fae.
Nervous, I take the imprinted necklace out of my pocket and fasten it around my wrist. It’s comforting to have it against my skin again, and I hope it acts as a good-luck charm. I hope this jailbreak goes off without a hitch.
When the last rays of sunlight fade from the window across from me, Lord Raen approaches.
“Come,” he says, walking by without so much as a glance. He doesn’t check to see if I’m following, not until we descend a staircase. Halfway down, he stops and draws a dagger.
I freeze. Despite the fact that I’m standing three steps taller than him, it takes an effort not to scurry backward as he twists his wrist slowly back and forth. A menacing gesture if I’ve ever seen one.
“Poison,” he says, and I see something wet glistening on the edge of the steel. “Draw blood and your opponent will fall.”
“Dead?” I ask, heart thumping in my chest. I don’t want to kill anyone, especially someone who’s just doing his job.
“Unconscious.” He slides the dagger back into the scabbard and holds it out. “Don’t cut yourself.”
Something moves behind Lord Raen. I hide the sheathed dagger behind my back, tucking it into my waistband. The fae climbing the stairs is dangerous. I sense it in his slow ascent, in the way his gaze slides from Lord Raen to me. The hilts of two swords rise up over his shoulders like demon’s wings, but he’s not a palace guard or one of the king’s swordsmen. He’s dressed in black, nondescript clothing.
Raen steps aside, but the fae doesn’t pass by. He stops beside Raen and the corners of his mouth tilt up in a barely there smile. Maybe he intends it to be pleasant, but to me, it’s just creepy.
“This is Micid, son of Riagar,” Raen says. “He’s ther’rothi.”
I frown. “Ther’rothi?”
“It means,” Micid says in English, “one who walks the In-Between.”
I blink. The fae’s smile widens.
“I visit tjandel,” he explains.
I have no idea where or what that is. I glance at Raen, but he looks just as surprised as I am to learn Micid speaks my language.
“What’s that mean?” I ask. “To walk the In-Between?”
Micid smiles. And disappears.
There’s no flash of light. We’re inside the Silver Palace so he couldn’t have fissured anyway, but it can’t be an illusion. I have the Sight; I’d still be able to see him.
When the fae reappears, I stagger back and nearly trip on the stair behind me.
“It means,” he says, “I walk the In-Between.”
I recognize the word Raen used now, ther’rothi.
“That magic is . . .” I was going to say extinct, but the impression I always got from Kyol was that it never existed in the first place. It’s as impossible as bringing fae back from the dead. It’s a myth, a legend. “It’s . . .”
“Rare,” Micid supplies, a gleam in his silver eyes.
Lord Raen climbs a step. “Fae cannot conceal humans with illusion. This is the only way. Micid will take you into the In-Between. No one will see you. I will have Taltrayn’s guards open the storage room. You’ll direct Micid to where the humans are hidden. He’ll open the door and, one by one, he’ll take you out through the In-Between.”
I started shaking my head halfway through his explanation. “No. I can’t walk the . . . This wasn’t the plan.”
“I changed the plan,” he says, as if it’s not a problem. Never mind that I didn’t like his original plan; I really don’t like him bringing another fae into this. The only reason I’m trusting Raen is because I’m convinced he’ll do anything for Kelia’s forgiveness. I have no reason to trust this Micid.
“I can’t enter the In-Between without going through a gate,” I say. “This will kill me.”
“We’re not traveling through the In-Between,” Micid says. “We’re merely wading into it like a shallow pool. I’ve done this with humans before.”
I don’t like this. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone to Raen for help. Maybe I should have found a fae to take me through Corrist’s gate. I thought about it. Once I give Aren the location of the Sidhe Tol, he’ll be able to fissure into the Silver Palace. I could draw him a map to Naito’s cell. That’s the problem, though. Once Kyol finds out I’m missing, he’ll move the two humans. I’m sure of it. I can’t leave without them.
I meet Raen’s eyes. “You trust him?”
After a slight, almost imperceptible hesitation, he says, “He will do as I’ve asked.”
That hesitation doesn’t do anything for my confidence, but I have little choice now. “Fine. Let’s get it over with.”
Micid holds out his hand. When I wrap my fingers around his, he doesn’t seem bothered by my chaos lusters.