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My lips curve up in a sneer, and I look my brother in the eye when I say, “Well, hello, Zeph. Why don’t you let poor Miss Mistflow go?” He bristles, attempting to shove her behind his body. For her credit, Viola does not let him. She holds no fear and meets my eyes with the same fierce intensity she did at the opening ceremonies just days ago. Her words promising she’ll get to Ytopie ring in my head.
“I am not letting you take her,” Zeph spits out.
I steeple my fingers in front of me, calming my face. “Now, brother, what could you possibly think I would ever do to hurt Miss Mistflow? Come along, Viola, Tulip. Let’s get you both cleaned up and fill your bellies, shall we?”
Viola and Tulip stay frozen, their eyes darting between my brother, Stone, and myself. There is not an ounce of trust in either of their eyes. After what feels like ages, Viola pulls her dagger from a thigh sheath and twirls it in her fingers. The mask of indifference she wears so well slips back over her face.
“Yeah, I don’t think we’ll be going with any of you until we get some answers,” she drawls. Her voice, which I’ve heard for days now over the connection, reverberates throughout the cavernous garrison.
It cascades over me in waves and feels like home.
I shake my head, clearing the feeling from it. Once again, I remind myself that she is part of a larger plan. Still, the confusing feelings that I have for her are dangerous. I make a mental note to tell Stone that he should be the one to handle most of Viola’s preparations for the ritual.
Tulip is trembling still, and Viola puts a hand on the small of her back. She visibly relaxes from the contact with her friend. I hold my palms open towards Viola in a sign of surrender. “Viola, Tulip, we’re simply here to congratulate you. As the head of the Patricians, I am your welcome party. You found the elevator, and you’ve made it to Ytopie. This is cause for celebration.”
She stalks towards me, knife pointing at the base of my chin. She’s tall, which surprises me. I have only a head or so of height on her, significantly less than most fae women. The tip of her knife touches my chin, sending a shiver down my spine. Her eyes are light and gray, like the beginnings of a bad winter storm, and they contain a multitude of conflicts. “Something tells me not to believe you, Mace Nightroot.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, and from this proximity, I can feel the warmth of it across my face.
Stone attempts to intervene, and I hold up a hand to stop him. It’s not often he fully defers to me, but when others are present, we have to keep up appearances that he is just my advisor.
“Viola, get away from him! He’s dangerous!” my traitorous brother shouts.
She spins on the balls of her feet and points her blade squarely at his chest. “And you! Zeph, is it? I do not know you. I do not trust you. And clearly, I am in the middle of some stupid little game you two are playing.” She inhales sharply and places one hand on her hip, the other still brandishing her weapon. “Now, I want my winnings, I want to get out of this cave, and I want a hot bath.”
Tulip snorts behind her at the mention of a bath, and I also stifle a laugh. Stone steps forward now to play the part of peacemaker. “Of course, Miss Mistflow. You and your travel companion have won the Race. We will set you both up with a hot meal and allow you to clean yourselves. We still have a few days before the official winner’s ceremony, but we have a place for you to stay before then.”
Her shoulders drop some tension with that, but her eyes are still sharp and untrusting. “And I want to see my parents,” she says softly. Her voice betrays a vulnerability I did not think possible. My heart wrenches at the thought of telling her they’re dead. I glance at Stone, and his head shakes in a nearly imperceptible manner. Now is not the time to reveal the truth.
“All in due time, Miss Mistflow,” I respond. “After the winner’s ceremony is a gala, and then all winners will be escorted to the human village. You will be able to see your parents then.” The lie tastes like ash on my tongue.
I can see in Zeph’s eyes he does not trust me or Stone. I hate that I didn’t bring my brother into the plan to revive the Gods, but I could not trust him to follow it. He’s always been a wild card, fighting against what’s best for all of us. Our father used to say that Zeph could not see past the end of his own nose. It’s only gotten worse as he’s aged. Combine his inherited selfishness with his penchant for alcohol, and he becomes a volatile entity.
“I’m not leaving her alone with you,” he says, eyes locked on mine.
“I sincerely doubt Miss Mistflow and …Tulip, what is your family name?”
Her eyes widen at being addressed directly, and she squeaks out, “Goldtide, Mister Nightroot.”
I wave her words away. “Call me Mace. As I was saying, Zeph, I sincerely doubt Miss Mistflow and Miss Goldtide would be comfortable with you attending their baths. So, if you’ll excuse us.”
Zeph steps in front of me, showing a hint of aggression for the first time. “I know what you think she is, Mace,” he spits.
I raise my brow and attempt to apply a bored expression. “And what is that but a winner of the Race, Zeph?” He grits his teeth, frustrated at my purposeful obtuseness.
“You think she’s a vessel. She isn’t, though. That’s not what she is.”
With his words, I see Tulip and Viola visibly tense from the corner of my eye. They shoot each other a shocked look, and Viola clears her throat. “I am no such thing. I have no magic within me.”
Thanks to Tulip’s campfire stories, Stone and I knew she had some knowledge of the vessels, but we weren’t sure of the extent of their conversations since. Zeph continues his tirade, “She’s not a vessel, she’s just a girl!”
“She’s a woman!” Tulip pipes up.
Stone, ever a mask of indifference, waves Zeph away. “I’m not sure what this vessel you speak of is, Zeph, but you and I must go and prepare for the gala.” He grabs Zeph roughly by the arm and drags him out.
To his credit, Zeph fights and argues against Stone, but he only succeeds in making himself look unhinged and dangerous. I turn an apologetic look towards the women in front of me. I have familiarity on my side since they have both seen me at opening ceremonies, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy to get them in the position we need them to be.
Hesitantly, Viola stows her blade once Stone and Zeph are gone, and she turns towards me. I do my best to flash her a kind smile.
I don’t miss the quick flick her eyes make to my lips. “Okay, Mace, we’ll come with you. But this doesn’t mean I trust you.”
