Page 44 of The Heir the Fae Forgot
I’d expected him, of course, but nothing could prepare me for the sight of him standing there. Any lingering signs of weakness had faded from his body, leaving him standing tall and straight in the doorway. His hair had been braided at the crown so that it looped around his horns, but the bottom half was left down to tumble around his shoulders in perfect, inky black waves. His eyes were rimmed now with that kohl the other fae often wore, and on his head, perched perfectly between those curling horns of his, glittered a tall, spiked crown.
He bowed his head at me, his wings shuddering over his shoulders.
“My Storm,” he said, once he’d risen yet again to tower over me. “I was hoping you’d still choose to join me.”
Something about the words made a shiver race up my spine. I heard the double meaning, just as he’d intended.
Behind me, from the deep, low growl I heard come from either Zev or Finch, they had too.
But Icarus ignored them as he extended his hand out. He only had eyes for me.
“Come. You’re my guest of honor. It’s only right that you walk by my side.”
I noticed that Icarus had come alone. Better, I thought, in case I rejected him.
Or, perhaps, this was simply always how he acted. I remembered the way the canopy parted only for him, how he looked down on the court from above as well as through the eyes of his many ravens. That was the sort of thing that only a person who trusted no one, not even his own court, behaved. That was someone who no one else could trust, either.
When I looked up into the dark fae’s eyes, all I felt was resentment.
We stood locked like that, Icarus’ hand outstretched, waiting for me to take it, until I felt the gentle touch of a hand on my shoulder from behind. It was Zev.
“Go on,” he whispered, and I felt, rather than saw, the way he and Icarus exchanged glances, just for a second. “We’ll be right behind you.”
I wanted to ask him about Shiel, but it was better if Icarus didn’t know he was gone. The last thing I wanted to do was take his hand and let him lead me to the ball he’d planned, surely, as just another part of his elaborate trap, but that was exactly what I did.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
Icarus’magic must have returned to him, because he’d used it to transform the entire court.
I saw it the moment I stepped out beside him. Zev and Finch followed close at my heels, their breaths stolen at the same moment mine was.
Far up above, the sound of music began to carry down to us. A great platform had been grown where there were many small ones before, the length of it spanning nearly the entire width of the court.
No sooner had we taken a few steps out to admire it with necks craned back to see, then a staircase began to spring up before our feet. It grew from the vines and the leaves and the tree roots reaching upward, growing before us with each step that we climbed.
Soon the ground had fallen far below, a terrible plunge always waiting just a step ahead, should Icarus’ magic fail. My hands began to shake as terrible images flashed into my mind. One wrong step. One wrong move. One foot caught on one of these steps, and I’d be seconds away from breaking my mortal neck.
But the moment my hand so much as trembled, Icarus took my hand to steady it. I wanted to pull away from him, but his cool hand in mine calmed me so that I couldn’t. Though he kept his head held high, his eyes finally caught mine in the fading light.
“If you fall, I will catch you, Aurra. You are safe with me, even if you don’t yet feel it.”
I didn’t want to feel safe with Icarus. But I also couldn’t bring myself to tear my hand from his. I tore my eyes from him instead, only to once again that terrible emptiness stretching out only a step ahead.
My footsteps faltered, my feet still refusing to move from where they were planted.
Behind me, I heard Finch swear as he barely caught hold of Zev’s shoulders in time to keep him from running into me. It wouldn’t be the first time, but it would have most certainly been the last, given the vast emptiness before me.
Icarus’ hand tightened on mine again.
“Aurra.”
I ignored him at first, but then he turned to face me, his second hand coming up to cup my face. I wanted to lean away from him, to escape the intoxication of his touch. But once more, I found myself unable to move away, unable to move at all until the feel of his cool palm on my skin finally allowed at least my eyes to lift away from the emptiness before me and up, instead, into his.
I saw in his eyes the look I’d seen many times before. It was the look that had drawn me in at the river, the look that had made me melt into him and forget everything else.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he whispered, bowing his head slightly.
His one hand remained holding mine, his eyes kept locked on mine as he stepped up once, and then again. And then once more.
