A Thief of Nightshade(70)




Chapter Twenty-


Five


AUBREY DIDN’T SLEEP WELL THAT NIGHT .

SHE knew she’d had nightmares, but they weren’t the kind that stayed around. Only the dreadful feeling upon waking told her that her dreamless night had not been so.

Agincourt, in the daylight, reminded Aubrey of a faerie tale forest from a book she’d read as a child. The air itself seemed ripe with tiny glittering fragments of some great and magical thing. Oberon’s Fae, unlike those Jullian had described in Nightshade, were more than achingly beautiful—they were kind and gentle. And the knowledge that she now knew something of his world that he perhaps never would saddened her; it was this thought that lingered on her mind as she sat gazing out of a picture window to the enchanted world beyond.

“You should be resting, child. It’s almost time for you to leave and you’ve much ahead of you.”

Aubrey turned to see Oberon behind her and heard the scuffle of boots as his guards shifted into place nearby. “Do faeries dream as humans do?” she asked.

He considered this before sitting down next to her. The light from the window caught his wings and revealed veins of shining silver, woven artfully together like the lead in a stained glass window. “Why do you ask?”

“When humans dream, some see places like this—like Avalar. Do you picture a world where there is no magic and wonder what it would be like? As those from my world have wondered of yours?”

Oberon’s mouth curled into a peculiar grin. “Can you imagine a world without air?”

“It couldn’t exist,” Aubrey said.

“And so our kind cannot exist without the presence of the Lyr. So, you see, it wouldn’t occur to most to ponder otherwise.” Before she could ask, Oberon added, “Humans here, while they may practice magic, are not of themselves magical creatures. You were about to inquire as to how Jullian could survive in your world, but perhaps you are asking the wrong question. How could a world that has never seen magic imagine it?”

Aubrey thought of their dinner conversation the night before. “Who is to say that it never existed in my world? Or that it doesn’t in some small way?”

“Remnants. Like footsteps in the snow, the Lyr leaves traces of itself behind. Our kind came to Avalar because the Lyr was lessening in our world, just as it has lessened in yours.”

“Is that what is happening now?

Here?” Aubrey asked.

He nodded his head. “Yes. And all those who rely on it for life so too will lessen and fade.”

“You didn’t know, did you? What you were doing?” Aubrey thought it audacious to inquire, but couldn’t help herself.

“I was too young and too arrogant to think of anything but my own immortality.

When Given was a little girl, she would often ask me why I looked so different than her mother. I suppose she was politely asking why I looked so old. I suspect the same thought has passed through your mind?”

Aubrey nodded.

“I could retain the appearance of youth, but only at the expense of another. If I took a queen, as she does a king, I would be no different than Saralia. Aubrielle, I fear that I must be painfully honest with you. I will gladly lay down my claim on immortality, but as the differences in our appearance are great, my sister and I, so is our strength over the Lyr. There is a good chance that she knows of the vial given to you by the Madame. If you are caught in her court, she will kill you. You must beyond any doubt or hesitation be prepared for this. It matters not if anyone else has faith in you, you must first have faith in yourself; and child—your heart’s fears are as clear to me as glass.”

Aubrey turned from Oberon back to the window. “I don’t have a choice.

Whether I’ll succeed or not isn’t a consideration anymore. I am already dying, your Majesty—but even if I wasn’t, I would still fight for Jullian.” Aubrey then added in a whisper, “Even with all the fear in existence.”

Oberon paused for a long moment before speaking again. “Do your very best not to attract attention at the masquerade.

This won’t be an easy task, I know, but it is your best chance at remaining in the Winter Court long enough to defeat Saralia.” Oberon rose. “I think you’ve got enough to think about, so I will leave you with your thoughts. I merely came to give you this.” He took the Oran from his pocket and fastened it around her neck.

“She once belonged to Eila, Tabor’s beloved queen. Now, she is the only one left of her kind. Tabor must have had tremendous faith in your prince to place her in his possession.” He turned away, but paused before leaving. “Which means that your prince must have had equal faith in you.”



Aislinn didn’t trust Ian far enough to throw him and he certainly didn’t want the Griffin to be the one escorting Aubrey into the Winter Court. He knew that Given had saved some of the potion and he had spent much of the night debating whether to mention it to her or not. She obviously hadn’t wanted Ian to know that she had it.

And further, Aislinn wanted to know just how it was Ian had come about getting the potion in the first place. Aislinn believed Oberon when he’d told him there was nothing he could do to undo the curse, which led Aislinn to believe that Ian hadn’t gotten it from the King. A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

“His Majesty wishes a word with you.” One of Oberon’s guards, a young male Fae, nodded his head politely as he entered the room where Aislinn had slept the night before.

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