Page 137 of Taken By Shadows

As we stood in the quiet street beyond the garden walls of the palace, Kaed gave me a moment to marvel at the magic. I ran my fingers over the near-invisible door frame, and it rippled like water to reveal the worn wood of the door. When I pulled my fingers back, the glamour of just a wall fell back into place.

I turned to see him waiting a few paces ahead of me. Studying me as I had studied the door. Did he think I was going to try to vanish before him again?

He offered a smile, and I thought it might be the most dangerous thing I’d ever seen him do, because I followed, without question, as he walked on.

Fae lights glowed in the streets, the glass houses and iron bars of the lamps tempering the spill of light. They trailed all the way up a winding hill cobbled with smooth stone. More cracks formed in the walls of buildings, the paving, the carvings as Kaed led me upwards.

“Where are we going?” I finally wondered.

“I want to show you something.” His voice was soft, a tender thread in it that I hadn’t heard before.

Kaed led me into a forest of ancient, sleeping mosses and willowy trees.

Only, this forest wasn’t born of the wilderness. It was growing from stone walls, through the remnants of floors. The tall and swaying branches of the trees reached for the skies, unimpeded.

The roof of the structure was completely gone, lost to the ravages of time. We were held by the remains of ivory walls and lancet windows, glassless and woven with ivy. Trees and saplings had overtaken the grounds and broken through the flagstones.

The entire place was like a house of worship to the earth, not gods. A few stray fae lights glimmered through the window frames and lit the place like something from my books. It was magical here, and I could feel its celestial grace even as it was crumbling in front of me.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathed. It didn’t feel adequate to describe the ruins that lay sleeping around me. It was so quiet here, so peaceful.

“It is.” Kaed came up behind me. He didn’t close the gap between our bodies, but I could feel him regardless. “I like it here.”

The barest touch of his lips earlier still haunted me.

“What is this place?” I didn’t turn to him as I beheld the stone garden.

Kaed’s fingers trailed the folds of fabric around my shoulders.

I couldn’t resist turning then.

But he’d pulled away to a sculpture of a fae goddess without answering. The figure was freckled with green algae from years of neglect, the carvings chipped along her delicate fingers, her nose, the tips of her ears.

“What do you think about when you come here?” My voice felt lost in the ancient ruins.

He paused before answering. “My mother.”

It wasn’t the answer I was expecting, but I didn’t know what to expect, really.

“She died. And this was her favourite place. So it became mine.” There was a rawness in his voice, and I wanted to close the gap between us. To stand beside him.

“I’m sorry.” It felt paltry to only be able to offer those words.

He’d said she had passed. I had assumed it was long ago. But the grief in his words didn’t match that.

“I can’t blame an entire nation for one queen’s actions.” He looked at me like that should be enough. His part in the war was still unclear to me but the guilt he clearly carried over it was painted across his face.

“How did she die?”

Kaed’s face went grave, and his eyes trembled with the threat of tears that looked like they had never been freed.

“This was a mistake,” he said, taking my hand and rushing us out the way we’d come.

“I’m sorry. Kaed. Please wait.” I pulled a little against his grip, and I knew it wasn’t my own strength that matched his but his will to stop. I couldn’t have stopped him if I’d tried.

Kaed went to put his hands on my arms but then thought better of it. His fists clenched and unclenched like he might be about to use his magic.

But I didn’t feel that. I felt something more like a pit open up—something darker inside him than his magic.