Page 26 of The Heir the Fae Forgot
My face flushed as his meaning became clear. “No, I mean, I am. Here for the lesson, I mean.” The redness in my cheeks only deepened at the way my words tumbled over themselves.
His face softened then. He nodded up at the raven closest to me, and without a single word, it took off—followed shortly by the others. They swirled overhead before dispersing, their black forms disappearing into the canopy of trees below us.
“It’s a good idea to keep an eye on the court while they think I’m otherwise busy, anyway,” Icarus said, stretching his neck from one side to the other, the muscles in his wings barely containing their own desire to stretch out in flight.
“So, the birds…”
“Are an extension of me,” he finished for me. “What I say, they do. What they see, I see. We are one, but we’re separate.”
I made a mental note of that, reminding myself to watch for ravens if I ever planned on doing something I didn’t want the lord of this court to know about. Not that it would matter much if he could truly read my thoughts.
“Come, we should get started. We already have little time as it is.” Icarus stopped a moment before beckoning me to follow him. “And don’t worry, My Storm, as much as I wish I could read every one of the thoughts that pass through that mind of yours, that would ruin some of the mystery, wouldn’t it?”
CHAPTERTEN
The words meantto reassure me, in fact, had the very opposite effect.
Sure, Icarus might not know every one of my thoughts, but he certainly knewenough. No wonder the fae of his court—to say nothing of the others—feared him. It was one thing to be loyal to a lord, even to a fault, but another entirely to be loyal to a lord who knew each and every indiscretion—quite possibly, before they’d even been performed.
No wonder the other fae lords refused to visit Icarus.
No wonder they called his court, his glamour, what they did.
Perverted.
As if I needed one more reason to hope Icarus wasn’t right. I didn’t need to be the heir of this kingdom and possess whatever powers that crown might carry with it, but I certainly didn’t like the current alternative.
I had to remind myself, briefly, why I was really here. I was here for my own peace of mind, to prove to myself as much as Icarus that I wasnotone of his fae. But more than that, I was here tolearn.Not just about his glamour, but about all the glamour, about the fae, their courts, and my place in this world—whatever that may end up being.
Knowledge was power, and it was something I’d been denied too long.
My knowledge of the fae was limited to the fairy tales I’d been fed as a child. It was time that changed.
Rather than take me to his own worktable, Icarus led me through the slight maze of trees that broke his quarters up into several individual spaces. There was everything I’d expect from a fae lord’s suite. There was a study with hanging chairs, shelves of rolled up scrolls, and a writing desk scattered with half-written letters. The workspace, with the bench Icarus had been preparing his concoction, had all manner of implements ranging from crystals to cauldrons tucked underneath. A washroom grew from the middle of the rooms, the only on where the trees grew close enough for actual privacy. And, of course, there was the bed massive enough to accommodate him and his wings, the branches forming it curved up on all sides, as if the downy mattress resided in the middle of some great creature’s claws.
Though the canopy of trees usually formed a thick ceiling over the rest of the court, I noticed that changed when Icarus walked near the edge of his rooms. Whenever his wings brushed along the gapped trees forming the open walls of his quarters, the leaves of the canopy shivered and shuddered and parted slightly so as to reveal small slivers of the court down below.
I shivered, too.
The ravens were bad enough. This was…something else.
I imagined Icarus up here, looking down at his court from above like some kind of omniscient being. He wasn’t just the lord of his court. He was more like their god.
And if he had his way, he’d be my god too.
If Icarus sensed the direction my thoughts had taken, he didn’t let on. He led me into the study where, at his beckoning, two of the chairs grew closer together, separated only by a small table that sprung up between them. He caught the way I stared, not yet moving to take my place in the chair clearly meant for me.
Instead of demanding I sit, I was surprised when Icarus shifted his steps slightly until he stood behind me, his hand reaching around to take my wrist so delicately, I could barely feel the touch.
Or, I would have barely been able to feel it if the very brush of his skin against mine didn’t send electricity racing across its surface.
“Here, try and feel the glamour as I instruct it,” he said, voice low and slow again. He ducked his head down so that his breath warmed the top of my head, and with his gentle nudging, I followed his command and reached out to grasp the vines that held the chair swaying gently in front of me. “You have nothing to fear from this glamour. This is the magic that runs through our veins as natural as blood.”
It was hard to believe him completely, given what I’d seen happen to him only the day before. Still, I hadn’t seen any other fae affected the way he was, so maybe there was some truth to Shiel’s accusations. Maybe Icarus was right too, maybe the only reason the glamour effected him so was because of the corrupt way he’d been using it for so long.
I was half expecting to feel Icarus’ heartbeat pulsing slow and steady through the vines the way I felt it now, in the fingers still wrapped around my wrist. But try as I might to feel something,anything,the vines felt just like that—like vines. Living, but notalive.
“Try closing your eyes,” Icarus said, his voice still as steady as the gentle pressure he held me with. “I’ll let go of you, if that will help you focus.”
