Page 17 of The Heir the Fae Forgot
No sooner had I followed their gaze, then I saw why.
A great grating, groaning sound rumbled out from the massive tree that formed the court around us. Zev had let go of Finch’s swing in a second, his arm reaching out to steady me instead. I grabbed his arm instinctively, pulling my body flush against his as the very ground beneath our feet began to writhe and quake until, just before panic could fully take hold of me, the dark ceiling overhead split open.
Bright light spilled in as the canopy far overhead was broken for a moment, illuminating a great winged shadow hovering over our heads. The entire massive tree had split down the middle to allow the lord of his court to join us, his wings flapping slowly as he began the slow, measured decent down to join the rest of his waiting council.
Once more, the power of his glamour preceded him. He moved with a supernatural grace, as if the air cradled him, holding him with invisible threads that defied the very laws of nature. It was as if his wings didn’t move the air to make him fly, but rather, commanded the winds to do his bidding, turning the air into a solid thing around him through which he was held, simply suspended within it.
Even Finch stiffened as that power rolled over us at Icarus’ descent.
The tree began to close in around the dark fae lord, the trunk groaning into place, enveloping the council once again, that bright light fading as the canopy regrew far overhead.
The tree returned to its rightful place, encasing us deep within its trunk, just as Icarus took his.
The moment Icarus sat on his throne, the branches of the tree overhead seemed to shudder once more, as if his power now flowed directly into it. The throne itself came to life, pulling the lord further into it, cradling him between the grooves of its trunk. He and the throne were one, the throne a further extension of his body. It moved with him as he surveyed the room, twisting to face wherever he looked. It breathed with him, rustled with his emotions as he met the eyes of the fae shrinking back beneath his gaze, their eyes suddenly averting the moment his fixed on them.
They bent the knee, one by one, their faces turned towards the floor long after his gaze had swept past them until it came at long last, to rest, on me.
I went to bend the knee too, felt the sweeping power urging me to do so, but Zev’s arm only tightened around me. Finch’s hand was wrapped around my forearm too, as if lending me his strength. It was Shiel that leaned in close, the whisper in my ear meant for me, and me alone, even in this echoing cavern.
“It is not our place to bow to this self-made lord.”
Self-made lord?
This was the first time Shiel, or anyone else, had called into question the validity of Icarus’ reign. I was surprised enough to finally tear my eyes away from Icarus, if only to search Shiel’s face for something more.
There was nothing there to find, however, nothing but the tight muscle of displeasure working in his jaw.
When I looked back at Icarus, his gaze still lingered on me. The weight of it made me shiver, made me fight back the desire to shrink back inside myself, to form a boundary between us that might protect me from the way those eyes pierced so deep inside me, I swore he knew my very thoughts.
Because, I knew, there was a good chance he did. He’d once told me as much, told me he couldscentthem. I’d been on the outskirts of his court then. How much more could he sense here, in its heart?
If this Lord of the Wildness knew the dark thoughts of my mind, however, he didn’t let on. He showed no displeasure, in fact, he showed nothing other than certainty—the absolute assurance that only great power could bring.
“We are here today, to mark a momentous occasion,” Icarus said, at long last breaking the silence that had waited only for him. “Today, we welcome another lord into our court. We welcome Shiel, Lord of the Western Court…and with it, we bring in a new era.”
I felt the hands still holding me tighten, felt every muscle in Shiel’s body still.
Icarus tore his eyes from mine at long last. His eyes scanned the court, taking in the forms only now returning to their full height before him.
“Today,” he said, his voice deep and silken, “today marks the first time our court has been recognized by one of the great fae courts of this kingdom. For the first time since we fled our homeland in search of peace, we have found our welcome amongst the fae that once abandoned us. And in turn—we welcome them.”
There was no welcome in his eyes, however, when they came, once more, to rest not on me—but on Shiel over my shoulder.
“Just as I’ve been saying, there’s no reason to fear whatever caused the glamour to return to us, because already it’s begun not to wreck our kingdom—but to return it to its rightful state.”
His eyes then dropped back to mine, and he looked at me then the way only he could.
I felt the bond between us, the one that he had promised me that first day in the forest. Whether it was formed that day or long before by something dangerously close tofate,it was a bond that should have made me feel secure, should have made me feel at least as if I was in the right place, on the right path.
But instead, it terrified me.
CHAPTERSEVEN
There wasno mention of the fae strung up outside my door, but there was no doubt in my mind that it was at the heart of the fae’s strained chatter around us.
Icarus was not here to hold court in the formal sense, it seemed. As soon as he’d finished his introductions, the trees all around us had shuddered and begun to reform, stumps growing out of the ground to form tables around the clusters of hammocks and chairs. The servants of Icarus’ court appeared in that way that only they could, but this time bearing platters of steaming food and jugs of wine that they served in a sort of intricate dance between the fae still pretending they weren’t waiting for their lord’s next execution order.
Though Finch and Zev immediately downed the dark faerie liquor, I turned down the glass that was offered to me. It smelled sweet and syrupy, nothing like the ale I’d tried—and failed—to drink that one disastrous night at the inn, but I wanted my wits about me.
