Lara
I wake the next morning and squint sleepily around my room, surprised, as I am every day, not to be snuggled in my brightly colored, second-story bedroom back at home, surrounded by music and film posters and overlooking the noisy skate park.
Yep. I’m still stuck in Faery, and as usual I’ve slept in. But something is different. The room is brighter.
A cobalt sky is visible through the high rectangular window, delicate patterns of light and shadow dancing on my walls. And there’s a new table, intricately carved with flowers and butterflies, that appears to be made from an old tree stump. It definitely wasn’t there when I went to sleep last night. On it rests a wooden hnefatafl board, the figures decorated with gold runes sparkling against baked-clay backgrounds, and the central piece is conspicuously missing.
I can fix that. I quickly retrieve Ever’s king from where it lies under my pillow, shoot out of bed, and place it in the throne space smack bang in the middle of the board.
How did I not hear someone enter my room last night and deliver these things while I slept? Was I drugged? Under a spell? Whatever the answer, Ever has to be behind their mysterious appearance, and because today is my one day off from gardening in the week, I’m going to confront him and find out what he’s up to.
I throw on my navy woolen tunic and soft leggings and head to the servants’ shared bathing room. Washing my hands at a citrine crystal sink, out of the corner of my eye I notice Magret enter—thankfully, she’s alone.
“Magret! Good morning. Is the prince likely to still be in his rooms at this hour?”
“Good morning, Lara.” She sets a bone comb and long hair pins on the counter beside me and begins braiding her pale hair. “Which prince do you speak of?”
“Prince Ever, of course.”
Her antlers stiffen, and she frowns. “I have no idea, but if I were you, I would not dare visit his—”
“I need to speak to him. I’m going to check if he’s there,” I say, giving her waist a playful squeeze as I zip past.
“Lara!” she yells, her voice echoing off the damp stone walls.
“It’ll be fine,” I call as I flee into the passageway that connects all the little rooms where the castle staff live. “He won’t hurt me.” At least I hope he won’t.
I puff my way up staircase after winding staircase—from the dark and dingy to the grand and elaborate—and then dart through the majestic light-filled hallways of the royal wings, at intervals passing statuesque guards who ignore me, until I reach the gigantic double doors that lead to Ever’s rooms.
“Never,” I yell, pounding on the heavily patterned metal surface. “Let me in.”
The doors swing open, and I fall into the parlor to find three perfectly shaped fae mouths gaping at me in shock. Ever, Raff, and nasty Kian are sprawled over divans studying maps, ribbons of sweet, cloying smoke floating in the air above them.
Dressed in dark leather pants and lavishly embroidered doublets embellished with feathers and straps, a perfect example of the elegant bondage style the court favors, Kian and Raff appear ready for action. But Ever looks like he’s not long rolled out of bed, loose linen pants riding low on his hips and an almost-sheer shirt, the color of cobwebs, draped around his muscular bare chest.
Balor snores in the middle of the floor, and the mire fox picks over a tray of nuts and bright orange nasturtium flowers on a table by the window. The curtains are closed, the fire blazes, and the atmosphere is as closed and secretive as a clandestine meeting in the middle of the night. Except it’s daylight and nearly eleven o’clock.
Kian is the first to rouse himself from his stupor. “Oh, good morning, Lara,” he says in a patronizing voice. “What an extraordinary pleasure it is to see you in our prince’s chambers. How fortunate that we are all present to satisfy your wishes. Please advise us how we may be of assistance.”
“Well, you can help by shutting up, and—”
“Leave us.” A red scroll held suspended in front of him, Ever’s silver eyes drill right through to my soul.
“Must we?” complains Kian. “Just when something fun happens, you wish to throw us out. You’re such a bore of late, Everend, old friend.”
“I said leave us.” Ever’s words crack like thunder, jolting Raff and Kian—and even Balor—onto their feet.
With a terrifying screech, Spark flies through the air and lands on Balor’s back. The hunting hound rears up like a battle horse, and then takes off galloping around the room with Spark shrieking and clinging to wiry gray fur as she bounces along. For a long moment, we all watch with our mouths hanging open.
“Balor,” yells Ever. “Get here.”
Barking wildly, Balor ignores the order and ducks under the bed, taking the mire fox with him. Over everyone else’s raucous laughter, Ever calls the dog in a harsh voice, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Maybe he’s not completely humorless after all.
Raff reaches under the bed and retrieves Spark who comes out blinking contritely, then snuggles into his master’s arms. “You little terror. I shall have to chain you to Elowen in the kitchens if you can’t control yourself, and then you’ll miss out on visiting the glass blowers. They’re making salamander necklaces from amber stones and orange maple leaves today. Perhaps now, you won’t get one of your own.”
Sparks chirps and shakes her head, tugging Raff’s collar.
“Well, learn to behave if you want special treats. Come, Kian, let us leave Ever and Lara to their business.” As Raff passes close by, he smiles warmly, “Lara, with all the drama, I haven’t had a chance to greet you properly.” His voice dips low, and he whispers, “Take care. His mood this morning is mercurial at best. Check the sky.”
I give him a quick grin and a teasing curtsy.
Wearing a smirk I’d like to smack off his sharp-boned face, Kian struts past and follows Raff through the exit.
I stride over to the window, the heels of my boots clacking in the silence, and pull one side of the heavy drapes open, peering out. Black clouds hover above the distant Dún Mountains, and right in front of me on the turreted balcony balustrade, seven órga falcons perch, preening their silver and gold feathers. There’s not a trace of blue left in the sky.
“When I woke up, the day was fine,” I state.
“And your point is?” He regards me coolly through a mess of golden hair, the tips of his ears peeking out and smudges of ink staining one sharp cheekbone.
I take a seat on the couch opposite, shoving papers onto the floor. “You were obviously in a good mood earlier and now you’re not.”
“What of it?”
“Well, what made you happy?”
The large garnet in his ring glows like dark wine as he taps his chin before answering. “Hmm. Let me think. Earlier, you were not here. And now you are. Could your arrival have spoiled the atmosphere?”
I ignore his jibe. “I’m not going to give you the king back if that’s what you’re hinting at by dumping a hnefetafl board in my room.”
“If I wanted my king back, Lara, the set I gave you would have included one. You humans truly are dimwitted.”
“Interesting opinion when I bet you don’t even know why you gifted the game to me.” Neither do I, but I’m very keen to hear his theories on the matter.
The air vibrates, the metallic tang of an impending storm stinging my nose as tiny hairs rise along my arms.
I smirk at the fluttering curtains. “It’s so easy to tell when I’ve hit a nerve. Your power is also your weakness. Does the fact that you can’t fully control it make you smarter or dumber than me?”
A sudden smile curves his lips. “Oh, shut up and have something to eat. I tire of arguing with you, mortal.”
He throws a bunch of grapes at me and then sprawls languidly against the couch.
I catch them and ask, “Back to name-calling again, are we?” Dark juice bursts over my tongue as I pop grapes into my mouth before laying the remainder next to his hnefatafl pieces on the low table between us.
Picking one of the men up, I ask, “Why were the pieces you played with last night pointed on top and mine flat?”
His smile is crooked and surprisingly boyish. “I was the attacker. We use pointy things to maim or breech entrances.”
My whole body flushes hot. “Oh, of course. Guess I’m proving your idea that humans are dimwitted with that question, aren’t I?”
He shrugs, then lays his palms open at chest height, raising them slowly. Suddenly, all the board pieces lift into the air and float around my head, zipping away each time I reach for one.
At the edges of the room, a sword hilt, a set of silver goblets, a dagger, and an unraveled scroll surf the air currents while Ever watches me intently.
The air symbol tattoo on his chest that I remember seeing when he bathed at the Lake of Spirits, glows like a red-hot river of lava, then fades to a faint outline. I wish he’d button the shirt so I wouldn’t have to look at his all-too-fascinating chest.
Without warning, everything crashes to the ground. I gasp and he laughs. The sound is warm and possibly the first genuine expression of good humor I’ve heard him make.
“I thought you were meant to be in a bad mood.”
“Me?” He points at his chest. “Did I say I was? Look out the window. The sun is shining again.”
I look and find it is.
I smile before I make an accusation. “Oh my God, you’re happy.”
“I suppose I am,” he agrees, mirroring my expression.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” His grin disappears as he shifts to the edge of the sofa, leaning toward me. “Maybe I don’t dislike humans quite as much as I thought I did.” He nods at the hnefatafl board. “Shall we play?”
“I can’t. The moss elves are expecting me around lunchtime.”
The cushions sigh as he flops back against them. “How will your precious elves cope without you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Three nights hence is Samhain. You will be paraded about like a prized okapri in front of the Merits. Your days in my land may very well be numbered.”
Smoothing my tunic, I stand up. “No, my days here are sure to go on and on. You’ll win the contest, and I will still be yours.”
The satisfaction of seeing his jaw drop warming my belly, I turn and saunter away.
“Lara,” he says as I near the exit.
“Yes?”
“Tonight, after dinner, return here and we’ll play. This time, I’ll teach you how to attack.”
“Okay. I will.” I pause before pushing the door, a large triangle shining in the middle of it inlaid with strips of bronze and copper. “Why aren’t there ever any guards at the entrance to your rooms?”
In slow motion, his head cants to the side like an animal sizing me up. It reminds me that even though his skin is golden and warm to touch, he’s nothing like a human man. “I don’t need protection. If anyone were stupid enough to breech my chambers without permission, well, they wouldn’t be stupid for long. They wouldn’t be anything at all.”
“Very scary. I’ll see you later, then.”
“Bring my king with you,” he calls as the door begins to creak shut.
“We’ll see,” I say, thrusting my head through the gap before letting it close behind me.
On the way to fill my basket full of fruit and vegetables for the elves, I run into Raff and Spark en route to their appointment with the glass blowers.
The prince latches onto my arm as I pass, pulling me to a stop.
“We meet again,” I say, curtsying without enthusiasm. I don’t have time for Raff’s games.
The sun burns through wispy clouds as we stand next to an old beech tree, the gray bark smooth beneath my palm when I lean against it. A pond ripples at our feet, goldfish with piranha-like teeth darting through the lily pads. Spark clambers to the ground and races to the water’s edge, then tries her hand at fishing.
Raff hikes an eyebrow at the sky. “You’ve been gone from his chambers for some time now, yes? And yet dark clouds are not threatening to smother us.”
“Well, that’s great,” I say, rearranging bread loaves in my basket. “Right?”
Expression strange, he drags the pad of his finger across my cheek. “Ever is correct. You do look like a freckled wasp.”
I frown and fidget, this time, with my tunic.
“A very sweet and charming wasp,” he adds quickly. “At any rate, you certainly seem to have charmed him.”
I snort. “I doubt that very much.”
“Do you? Look up again.”
Gold scorches my eyes as I stare at the sky. Big deal. The sun was shining when I woke up this morning.
“Well, think about what you and Kian were doing with Ever when the sun was out earlier. I’m sure it was quality time spent hanging out with you that drove off the storm clouds, not me.”
Raff laughs. “Kian and I were doing naught. My brother was relaying, in quite tedious detail, the events of your game last night. If one were to consider only Ever’s expression as he spoke, they would imagine the memory pained him greatly. However, the brilliant cyan sky told the true story of how thinking about last night affected him.”
Oh.
I’m so shocked by that revelation I can’t even come up with a smartass reply.
Soaking wet, Spark appears at Raff’s feet, tugging his boot while jumping up and down and making a terrible noise.
“Yes, yes,” Raff says, frowning down at her. “Do not fret. We won’t be late. I must go, Lara. Please give my best wishes to your elves.”
“Hopefully, one day soon, you’ll come with me and give them your regards in person.”
“When Ever becomes king, you must speak to him about the moss elves. I believe he may even issue a full pardon if you ask nicely.”
“Wait! One more thing—I’ve noticed lately no one stops me when I wander around the castle, especially in the royal wings. It’s weird. The guards won’t even look at me. Why is that?”
“Because he has told them not to, of course.”
Wearing a rakish grin, he bows and hurries away, taking long strides toward the city’s market district.
What Raff is suggesting about the weather is beyond strange. As if I—an insignificant human—could possibly influence the Prince of Air and somehow make the sun shine.
That’s insane.
