Those last bloody days were the tipping point for my mother, I was certain. Had I known the outcome, I might have let the tokens go, might have yielded to Asher. They meant little compared to her life. But I had fought him harder then, as if that infraction was the worst of it, when he had done so much more. I had not the temperament of the others. The elves were stoic, but when pushed too far chanced being overcome, grief-stricken or crazed and unable to return to themselves. I had to fight to hide my emotion, but it could come and go as the winds, leaving me no worse for the storm.
There was no wind now as I opened the carved stone lid. On top was a letter, a small note folded in half. I laid it aside and pulled a strip of silk from the box. My fingers ran across the soft fabric, a piece of my mother’s favorite dress. When Asher had confined her, these scraps had accompanied her messages, so I would know them truly hers. I held it to my nose, breathed in the scent of her. She was rain and honeysuckle, a cool winter night. Her scent was a contradiction, as was she. She was of light and dark. And I of both and my father. I had often wondered what that made me. When we were young, I had asked Chevelle what I smelled like. Without hesitation, he’d answered, “Wet elk.”
With a smile, I returned the scrap to the box and touched the smooth stones, gold ring, and leather strap that lay inside. The amulet was there. I wondered if Chevelle had known its origin. The inky blue had reminded me so much of its owner, Sapphire.
We both blamed Asher for her death. Though I shared that blame with myself. I had been a fool to think we could escape him. After all he had done, I had known there was no true escape. Somewhere, deep down, I had to have understood what I was risking, there was no doubt that such blatant defiance would have to be answered. And I had not cared about the cost. Until we found her.
I could still see her lifeless body cradled in Chevelle’s arms. I could feel the anger, taste the bile, recall the first flavor of infinite hatred. Nothing else could have driven me to seek such a final revenge. She had been an innocent. They had cleaved her eyes from their sockets because I intended to walk away from all of it, to leave with him. They had dressed her in a royal gown of azure, adorned her with jewels.
His mother. The blue of her eyes a message to me. The same depthless sapphire as Chevelle’s.
Chevelle had returned these items to me. Though they meant little now, they had once been precious. I’d no doubt they had been a trial to recover. I didn’t know if I had the courage to read his note, but my hand moved numbly toward it.
I took a deep breath and opened the fold.
“My love.”
Well, shit.
It changed everything. Chevelle knew me. He’d given me all that he could and left me to decide.
My head fell and I put the note in the box, closed the lid, and slid it in the hiding spot beneath the third stone under the floor of my bed. I walked out of the room without looking back, turned down the corridor, and ran.
Six doors, two stairways, and a window later, I was scaling the last ten feet to a roof of the castle. I’d stolen a cloak on my way and when I reached the top, the wind caught and flipped it behind me. My hair whipped my face as I made my way across to perch on the only point that was blocked from wind by the tower but still allowed a full view of the mountain below and sky ahead. I wrapped the cloak tightly around me and felt settled for the first time in days.
It was silent for two hours, and then the quick, light padding of paws approached. Keaton and Finn.
They settled in beside me, quiet and still. Their silvery fur caught the moonlight in an ethereal glow.
“I can’t leave him,” I said.
The wolves did not respond.
“I may not be able to be with him, but I cannot leave.”
Chapter Three
Meeting
I woke on the perch as the sun broke the clouds. My first thoughts were curses; I should have met Chevelle at dawn. I hurried down, running until I reached the corridor and saw the servants. I didn’t recognize them, but that was no surprise considering so many of them had to be removed after they’d been found out as Asher’s spies. The castle was fully staffed now and each of them, properly uniformed and mannered, prepared for the banquet. Chevelle had been busy. Remembering my own station, I straightened my shoulders and slowed my pace.
When I reached the practice room, I thought he’d given up on me. I walked into the empty space for the first time since I’d regained myself fully. It held an echo of memory, emotion. I walked further, glancing up to see the morning sun stream in the filigreed windows, catching dust motes in its rays. I sighed, thinking of how it must have looked to him when I hadn’t shown up after the gift he’d left me. And then I saw him.
He stood in the shadows, watching me. When he knew I’d found him, he stepped forward. He’d been on the ledge, probably watching out a window while he waited. He stopped for a moment, the sun at his back throwing his features into further shade, and I had a flash of nervousness. I didn’t know if I could pull this off.
I straightened. “I fell asleep.”
I thought I saw the corner of his mouth pull up, but couldn’t be positive. He jumped down and crossed to me.
“Good,” he said, “you’ll need your rest.”