A Veil of Truth and Trickery by Analeigh Ford

Chapter Thirty-Two

That wasthe problem with Caldamir.

He assumed I’d forgotten.

Of all the fae I’d remembered to hate, he was at the top of my list. No royal regalia or chiseled jawline could make me forget that he was the fae who came into my world to take me away. He was the fae willing to watch me die in Avarath as a human based on nothing more than a hunch.

He was the fae that, despite the misgivings of his own court, his advisors and friends, insisted on going through with my murder. They could call it a sacrifice all they wanted, but that’s what it really was.

Murder.

And it was finally upon us.

I paid no attention to the twisting path of tunnels that plunged us further and further down into Caldamir’s maze of a palace. All I looked for was the brief glimpses out the windows toward the coloring sky.

I’d made it this close.

So close.

I just had to make it a little bit longer.

We were soon plunging so deep into the mountain that the temperature began to steeply drop. I shivered in my gown, each breath bringing with it a cloud that steamed out from between my lips.

We didn’t stop until we came to a massive stone door. More guards stood at its entrance, though they parted at the sight of Caldamir.

Armene waited there for us too.

It was the first time I’d laid waking eyes on the Prince of Sands since we were in the cave together—and I almost wished I hadn’t.

Much like Nyx, something had changed in him in the last days. A shadow had taken over him, a fear that wasn’t becoming. It kept his eyes from meeting mine, kept his lips from parting to offer so much as a single word in my defense.

He just stepped aside with the guard, moving back to join my other betrayers.

Nyx. Tethys. Armene. Caldamir.

For that was what they were. It didn’t matter that this is what they brought me here for. That fact didn’t absolve them of the guilt of what they were about to do—no matter what any of them thought.

Caldamir moved to press his hands to the doors. The massive blocks of stone swung forward at the barest of his touches as the sound of voices and clashing swords echoed down the tunnels behind us, growing closer by the second.

He ushered me in alongside Nyx, Tethys, and Armene. Half the guard came in after us while the other half remained on the other side to secure the door. Tallulah led those that came with us, moving in a small semi-circle around the outside of the doors, their arms lifted up to light a trough of oil branching out into the far reaches of the darkness.

The flames raced along the outer walls and into gutters carved into the ground, stretching further and further out as the light it brought followed a moment later.

I’d expected us to find some kind of prison, but instead, we’d found a tomb. A massive one.

It wasn’t just the fae king that had been sealed away beneath the mountain—it was an entire other court. Glass coffins lined the massive room like a grave, stretching out beyond where the fire’s light could reach them.

Tethys was the first one to let out a breath. “I’d forgotten how many fae were in Avarath before the war.”

At his side, Armene nodded solemnly.

Nyx just stared into one of the coffins closest to him, his face growing pale before he hurried to rejoin the other princes at my side.

The closer we got to the dais, the more my heart raced.

This was it.

There, at the top of the steps, was the only casket not made of glass. It was huge, easily twice the size of its companions, the stone sides carved with intricate designs.

The sight of it made me dig my heels into the ground, but it did nothing to so much as slow Caldamir down. He continued to drag me up the dais, step by step, with his face fixed ever forward.

“You told me when you kidnapped me from my home that I was saving my village from enslavement,” I said, panting. “You lied to me.”

Behind me, I saw Armene hesitate for a second. “Is that true, Caldamir?”

Caldamir suddenly stopped, only a few steps remaining until we reached the top. “When did we all forget who we are?” he asked, turning to glare at all three of the fae princes down below him. “We fae have always used humans.”

“That was usually the high king’s doing, as I recall,” Tethys said, settling his weight on one of his hips. His many rings glittered in the light of the flames. “The Sea Court has never had much use for humans.”

“The Sand Court, either,” Armene agreed with a grumble.

Nyx fixed me with a stare of his own. “I always though humans were pretty, sort of like dolls,” he said. “I was always excited when a fae brought one to my court.”

He looked away then, brow furrowing. “It was always so disappointing when they died.”

“All humans die,” Caldamir growled, his grip on my arm tightening. He tugged me forward a little, to the edge of the step between him and the other princes. “Delph will die. Whether or not we’re the ones to spill her blood, she’s going to die—probably sooner rather than later.”

He finally cast his gaze back over to the casket behind us. “We’ve all been so determined for her to be fae, we’ve forgotten that in the end, she’s only human.”

Human, like the race they plan to enslave as soon as they’ve gotten their magic back.

I suppose the truth-bringers of Alderia were right after all. A great fae war was coming. The one good thing that might come out of dying was I’d never have to see the smug looks on their faces when they saw it for themselves.

Across the cavern, bodies started throwing themselves against the doors. The guards’ shouts on the other side grew louder. Tallulah, standing at the foot of the dais, looked uncertainly between us and the doors. Her hand had long since drawn the sword at her side.

Caldamir swore.

He pulled me up the last few steps and pushed me up to the edge of the casket—as much like a sacrificial pyre as anything else I’d imagined.

“I knew we should’ve done this sooner,” Caldamir muttered, drawing a knife from his belt. “No more fae blood needed to be shed.”

“Except for mine. Tell yourselves I’m only human now that it suits you, but you spent an awful long time trying to convince me I’m fae.”

Caldamir did pause then. For the briefest of moments, a terrible sadness settled over him. But it was brief—all too soon replaced with that stony hardness that only he could muster.

“There’s no other way,” he said. “We must stop Avarath from dying.”

Just as I needed to stop Alderia from meeting the same fate.

Nyx, Tethys, and Armene all came to stand along the outer corners of the casket. None of them looked at me. They all stared at the shape of the fae king carved into the top of the stone slab.

Then, in turn, each one of them took a knife from his belt as well.

It was impossible here to see if the new moon had fully set, though in my heart, I knew it already had.

Tethys had been right. No one was coming to save me.

I’d been tricked, but that didn’t mean I was powerless. I too, like the princes, had a blade. I felt the weight of it still tucked into its hilt beneath my skirts.

If the princes here weren’t willing to stop this madness, then I had to.

It’d been so long since I thought about my curse.

I thought my curse was being brought here to Avarath, but I was wrong. I wasn’t cursed. I was the curse.

In trying to save my village, I’d damned the whole kingdom—the whole world, for how likely were the fae to stop at the borders of Alderia? If I had to die, it wouldn’t be to save Avarath, not when it meant destroying my own realm.

If I had to die, then it would be by my own hand.

Before Caldamir could force me up onto the tomb for whatever frightful ritual he’d prepared, I ducked beneath his arm and ran to the edge of the stairs. The four of them froze, not daring to come after me, because I’d already pressed the point of the dagger to the middle of my chest.

“I won’t let you do this,” I said, my voice choking. I looked to each one of them in turn, wanting to gaze one last time into their eyes. “I came to Avarath expecting to die to keep those I loved from being enslaved, so that’s just what I’m going to do. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

I half expected them to try, and they might have, if it weren’t for the appearance of a second blade—this one far longer than mine—between us.

It was Tallulah.

“I’m sorry, my liege,” she said, head bowing slightly as Caldamir froze in surprise. “I vowed to protect you all your life. Now, I protect you from yourself. I can’t let you do this.”

Across the cavern, the doors finally burst open. The fight spilled into the tomb, the flickering light of the fire catching on the metal of swords and glass coffins.

“We don’t have time for this,” Caldamir said, stepping forward. The other princes mirrored him, but Tallulah only raised her sword.

Caldamir was right. There was no more time.

I had to do this now.

I’d never see my world again, I’d never see my brother, Sol, but at least they’d be safe. At least I’d die knowing I’d done what I came here to do in the first place.

I pushed on the hilt of the blade until it started to pierce through my gown, prepared to plunge it into my own heart—when it was stayed.

Not by any hand, mine or another, but by the earth-shattering rumble of the world itself splitting open.

I knew, even before the back of the cave exploded in light, what it was.

Who it was.

A fae emerged from that blinding light, hair spun from sun-bleached bones and eyes so dark they looked like two pools of blackness.

He held out a hand to me and I took it.

The Starlight Fae had come at last.

As promised.

For me.