“I don’t believe in Fate. Nor do I believe in some ridiculous Cauldron.”
She shook her head again, her wild brown hair like glistening mud in the dim light.
“Take me to her,” I insisted.
If Amarantha ripped out my throat, at least I would die doing something for him—at least I would die trying to fix the destruction I hadn’t prevented, trying to save the people I’d doomed. At least Tamlin would know it was for him, and that I loved him.
Alis studied me for a moment before her eyes softened. “As you wish.”
Chapter 33
I might have been going to my death, but I wouldn’t arrive unarmed.
I tightened the strap of the quiver across my chest and then grazed my fingers over the arrow feathers peeking over my shoulder. Of course, there were no ash arrows. But I would make do with what I’d found scattered throughout the manor. I could have taken more, but weapons would only weigh me down, and I didn’t know how to use most of them anyway. So I wore a full quiver, two daggers at my waist, and a bow slung over a shoulder. Better than nothing, even if I was up against faeries who’d been born knowing how to kill.
Alis led me through the silent woods and foothills, pausing every so often to listen, to alter our course. I didn’t want to know what she heard or smelled out there, not when such stillness blanketed the lands. Stay with the High Lord, the Suriel had said. Stay with him, fall in love with him, and all would be righted. If I had stayed, if I had admitted what I’d felt … None of this would have happened.
The world steadily filled with night, and my legs ached from the steep slopes of the hills, but Alis pressed on—never once looking back to see that I followed.
I was beginning to wonder whether I should have brought more than a day’s worth of food when she stopped in the hollow between two hills. The air was cold—far colder than the air at the top of the hill, and I shivered as my eyes fell upon a slender cave mouth. There was no way this was the entrance—not when that mural had painted Under the Mountain to be in the center of Prythian. It was weeks of travel away.
“All dark and miserable roads lead Under the Mountain,” Alis said so quietly that her voice was nothing more than the rustling of leaves. She pointed to the cave. “It’s an ancient shortcut—once considered sacred, but no more.”
This was the cave Lucien had ordered the Attor not to use that day. I tried to master my trembling. I loved Tamlin, and I would go to the ends of the earth to make it right, to save him, but if Amarantha was worse than the Attor … if the Attor wasn’t the wickedest of her cronies … if even Tamlin had been scared of her …
“I reckon you’re regretting your hotheadedness right now.”
I straightened. “I will free him.”
“You’ll be lucky if she gives you a clean death. You’ll be lucky if you even get brought before her.” I must have turned pale, because she pursed her lips and patted me on the shoulder. “A few rules to remember, girl,” she said, and we both stared at the cave mouth. The darkness reeked from its maw to poison the fresh night air. “Don’t drink the wine—it’s not like what we had at the Solstice, and will do more harm than good. Don’t make deals with anyone unless your life depends on it—and even then, consider whether it’s worth it. And most of all: don’t trust a soul in there—not even your Tamlin. Your senses are your greatest enemies; they will be waiting to betray you.”
I fought the urge to touch one of my daggers and nodded my thanks instead.
“Do you have a plan?”
“No,” I admitted.
“Don’t expect that steel to do you any good,” she said with a glance at my weapons.
“I don’t.” I faced her, biting the inside of my lip.
“There was one part of the curse. One part we can’t tell you. Even now, my bones are crying out just for mentioning it. One part you have to figure out … on your own, one part she … she …” She swallowed loudly. “That she still doesn’t want you to know, if I can’t say it,” she gasped out. “But keep—keep your ears open, girl. Listen to what you hear.”
I touched her arm. “I will. Thank you for bringing me.” For wasting precious hours, when that satchel of supplies—for herself, for her boys—said enough about where she was going.
“It’s a rare day indeed when someone thanks you for bringing them to their death.” If I thought about the danger too long, I might lose my nerve, Tamlin or no. She wasn’t helping. “I’ll wish you luck nonetheless,” Alis added.
“Once you retrieve them, if you and your nephews need somewhere to flee,” I said, “cross the wall. Go to my family’s house.” I told her the location. “Ask for Nesta—my eldest sister. She knows who you are, knows everything. She will shelter you in any way she can.”
Nesta would do it, too, I knew now, even if Alis and her boys terrified her. She would keep them safe. Alis patted my hand. “Stay alive,” she said.