Fire and Bone (Otherborn #1)(41)

And then it fades. I listen intently but nothing else comes. I couldn’t have heard correctly, though. She can’t mean for me to give in to this. She’d wish for me to fight, to escape.

No, I couldn’t have heard right.

My stomach roils and I stand, wandering over to the cage where my new owl sits with watchful eyes. The bird hoots at my approach and ruffles its feathers. “Are you feeling smothered in there, little one?” I ask, understanding what it is to be caged. I open the latch and reach in, urging the bird onto my hand. “You should come with me to dinner tonight. Perhaps then I’ll have someone to talk to. The king barely says two words to me.”

It flaps its immature wings and hobbles its way over to perch on my wrist. My heart settles, looking into its wide black eyes. It baffles me that the king would give me a gift of such vulnerability and innocence.

I consider the words from the fire, but they don’t make any sense. I can’t understand why the goddess would wish for me to accept the darkness into myself. She must know that the king is far stronger than me. He’ll take me over. I’ll lose myself. Could she truly want to see my heart destroyed? Perhaps I should speak to Lailoken and see what his thoughts are. I’ll have to tell him of the child, but I think that would give me relief. I’ll go now, before dinner. If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I’m planning to show him the bird.

I settle the owl on the arm of my chair, then pull the cord for my ladies to come in. The three winter pixies enter, immediately getting to work dressing me for the evening, their thin fingers chilly against my skin. I ask to wear my sturdy boots and my good furs. None of them comment or ask why; they merely nod, their icy cheeks sparkling in the firelight. Once they’re done tying up my unwieldy hair, tucking the orange curls into the gold netting, they silently slip out, as if they were never here.

The owl wobbles back onto my wrist, and I lift my hand, urging him to perch on my shoulder. He grips the fur of my cloak with his talons and nestles into the crook of my neck.

“What should I name you, sweet one?” I ask. “You look like a Fionn. How does that sound?” The bird clicks its beak.

I leave my rooms and walk down the hallway, through the gallery, and down the back staircase. I’ll go through the kitchens and find the owl a piece of meat. This isn’t my usual time to visit Lailoken, but I’m sure he’ll be in his cave. As a monk, he spends his time focused on the solitary activities of prayer and reading, which keep his old legs weak and his eyes dim.

The goddess never seemed to approve of him, perhaps because he’s a human. Most of the underlings sneer at my dependence on him, a Christian monk, which is why he never comes to the keep. But when I was orphaned as a girl, he raised me as if he was my father. I asked him once if he was my human father. He claimed that he’d never been with a woman in that way. Then he kissed my head and said he loved me as much as any natural daughter.

“I see you’re enjoying my gift.” A deep voice echoes up from the bottom of the staircase. “He suits you.”

I pause on the stone and spot my Bonded looking up at me. His thick gray furs cover him like a cloak, a dusting of snow still on his broad shoulders. His raven, Bran, flies in the window and perches on the sill, tipping his head, giving the fledgling a curious look.

“I was taking him for a walk,” I say.

“A storm is moving in.” The king unhooks his heavy furs from his leathers and drops them to the floor. His shade servant, Eric, appears, picking them up and taking them away as the king starts up the stairs toward me.

My muscles clench instinctually, but I tell myself there’s no running.

“The gates are being closed,” he says. “You were off to your monk, no doubt?” I’m surprised—there’s no anger or disapproval in his voice.

“Yes,” I say, my pulse picking up speed as he comes closer. “I was going to show him the bird.”

His height matches mine even though he’s two steps down, his shoulders nearly blocking the passage. His black leathers are muddy, and there’s blood on the side of his neck. I realize he must’ve gone on his hunt early, feeling the storm coming in.

A glint of satisfaction lights his eyes. “I’m glad you’re pleased. You can show the old man the bird tomorrow, once the winds calm. I will have a servant clear the path for you.”

“Thank you,” I say, wondering why he’s helping me visit Lailoken. I assumed he felt the same way about my friend as everyone else in this place does.

He keeps his gaze locked on mine and continues his slow approach, up one step, then the last. When he’s on an even level with me he pauses, looking me over closely. His breath emerges in a quick mist as he leans close and kisses my cheek with his chilled lips. Then he whispers against my skin, “I’m truly sorry about the babe.”

My pulse stutters. Before I ask how he knew, he’s moved past, already disappearing into the shadows above, leaving me alone in the passage to wonder.





SEVENTEEN

FAELAN

I catch Aelia’s scent in the air first, then Sage’s, as I approach the building. The smell of the fire demi’s energy is strong, her power like a shimmering trail I can’t quite catch. I follow it toward the main entrance, where humans stand among several shades, all in line along the wall. There’s a selkie chatting with the bouncer at the door, distracting him as she sucks on a lollipop. A thin pixie boy slips past them into the club. I see a whisper of something in the air near the selkie, a thread of gold; I think that’s a remnant of Sage’s energy, but—