Grave Dance (Alex Craft, #2)(32)
“What do I have to do?”
“Thank goodness.” She pushed away from the table.
“Thank goodness.” She pushed away from the table.
“Now, we go deeper into Faerie.”
And somehow I’d gotten talked into going to the one place that scared me the most.
Rianna led me through the club, toward the large tree growing right through the floorboards of the bar. Over our heads, a swol en moon glimmered high above the tree limbs. I frowned at it. The ful moon had passed almost a week ago on the mortal plane. The ful moon here was not a reassuring indication of time.
“How do we get there?” I asked, lagging slightly behind.
Desmond had glued himself to Rianna’s side, and there wasn’t room for al three of us to walk abreast between the crowded tables.
“We’l have to pass through the winter court,” Rianna said without turning around. “Then we’l take another door to Stasis—that’s the no-man’s-land where the holdings are currently located.”
She stopped as she reached the tree and turned back to me. Motioning me closer, she raised on her tiptoes and whispered, “I wouldn’t mention where we are going.
Coleman’s holdings are nothing magnificent, and surely nothing to fight over, but the Winter Queen was miffed to say the least when Faerie didn’t award it to her court. In her opinion, her knight is responsible for Coleman’s death, even if he employed the help of a feykin. She doesn’t take rejection wel and she isn’t the most pleasant person when displeased.”
“I take it the winter court wouldn’t be one to align with then?”
Rianna lifted one thin shoulder and let it drop. “I know you have . . . interests . . . in the winter court—which, by the way, I also recommend that you not mention. The queen is infamous for her jealousy. But any court you decided to join would be better than staying in Stasis, cut off from would be better than staying in Stasis, cut off from everyone.”
Interests. I almost laughed. That’s one way to say I slept with the queen’s pet assassin and lover. Of course, I hadn’t known he was either at the time. I shook my head. “You know that even if Faerie recognizes me as inheriting, I’m not going to automatical y join a court. I don’t know anything about the courts.”
“I know. But at least if the holding is claimed, that wil be taken care of.” She gave me a weak smile. “Desmond and I can wait it out as long as we know we’re not going to be tossed and traded around.”
“Am I inheriting the dog as wel ?”
The dog in question rol ed back his lips, showing fangs, and Rianna winced. “Not exactly. I’l explain later. Are you ready?”
Well, I guess this is it. I nodded and fol owed her as she walked around the back of the tree. I expected a trapdoor in the ground, or maybe in the tree itself—after al , folklore reported Faerie to be a subterranean land, and I’d heard Caleb say before that he was headed “under hil ,” but there was no door—there was just tree and the back side of the bar.
“Rianna, wha—”
“Keep walking.”
I took another two steps around the tree, and the world seemed to slide around me. I wasn’t moving, or at least it didn’t feel like I moved in space, but the warm amber light in the bar smeared into darkness, and a cooler, bluer light fil ed the air.
I looked around: the bar was gone, the tree was gone, and I stood next to a giant pil ar carved from shimmering glass. No, not glass. Ice.
The air had a bite to it, but it wasn’t cold, and surely not frigid enough for the enormous pil ar beside me, but though the ice shimmered, the intricately carved fae dancing in spirals up the pil ar were sharp, the details too precise for spirals up the pil ar were sharp, the details too precise for the pil ar to be melting. My eyes fol owed the dancing fae up the column until it disappeared into a glassy ceiling that sparkled like hundreds of smal stars were caught in the frozen mass. Music emanated from somewhere, the soft, plucked notes mournful.
“This is Faerie?” I asked. Where are the fae? There was no one here, unless the carved ice sculptures lining the wal s were alive. Which was possible.
“This is a hal way. Little more.” Rianna crooked her arm through mine. “We shouldn’t tarry.”
She set a brisk pace, al but dragging me down the long passageway. I expected the smooth ice floor beneath us to be slick, but it was no worse than walking on marble. The only light in the passage was from the stars caught in the ice overhead, but it provided more than enough il umination, even for my bad eyes. I reached out with my ability to sense magic. The very air buzzed with enchantments and magic. It was as if I were drinking the magic of Faerie in with every deep breath. I tightened my shields before the buzz of magic overwhelmed my senses.
We’d made it only a couple of yards when three figures stepped out in front of us. At first I thought the statues real y had come to life, but these were fae of flesh and blood. Not that we could see a lot of that flesh. Al three wore hooded cloaks as white as freshly fal en snow, and in the gap where the cloaks fel open I could see intricate armor that looked like plated scales carved from blue-tinted ice. Two blocked our path while a third moved to intercept us, a sword naked in his hand.
“You’ve entered the winter court’s territory. Identify yourselves and your purpose,” the guard with the sword said, coming to a stop directly in front of us. This close, I could see thin, shimmering lines of glyphs tattooed across the exposed skin of the guard’s face and hands—at least I thought they were tattoos, though the ink glimmered like hundreds of ice crystals tracing the man’s skin.