Page 17 of Memory of Ashes

She gulped it down, not caring if it was poisoned.

He looked tired. “The wound on your leg was infected.”

She examined the place where the rocks had gashed her leg. Only smooth, pale pink skin remained.

“The healer saved you,” he said, noticing her confusion.

“What do you want with me?” she asked. She was tired of not knowing. Whatever it was, she wished they’d just get on with it.

“Come,” he said, standing, expecting her to follow.

Chapter 5

Amelia followed him into the hall, passing the long tables that lined either side of the room. Light streamed through a large window at the back, making her squint. It silhouetted a man seated upon a throne raised high on a dais, overlooking the room.

Who was that?

As they drew closer, she saw that both his hair and eyes shone silver. The colouring made him appear old, yet he held himself with the ease of youth. It was hard to guess his age. The throne, carved from the same stone as the walls, was the room’s only decoration. It was carved with patterns and shapes that reminded her of those she’d seen on the mountain. Were they related?

“This is her?” he asked, rising from his throne as they approached.

“Yes,” the dark-haired fae replied.

“You had trouble finding her, Casyl?” he said mockingly.

Casyl. Amelia repeated the name silently. The dark-haired fae now had a name. She looked between them. They had the same delicate features, although Casyl’s hair was dark while the king’s was pale. They could be related.

“We didn’t expect her to go into the forest,” he said through gritted teeth. He turned to Amelia. “This is King Tiryn of the Wildlands.”

The king studied her. “You’ve had quite the adventure in our land, yet we know so little of how you came to be here. Eleandor told us a little of what he’d seen in your memories.”

“Eleandor?” she asked, confused. The sage was here? She had assumed he’d been injured alongside Vesryn and the others when she was captured.

The king looked past her. Amelia turned as Eleandor stepped from the shadows.

He had been taking her to see the High King. Surely this wasn’t the king he had meant.

“He brings us news of impending doom.” He laughed. “His foresight is so revered in the Holy Court, yet they couldn’t take him at his word. So, he brought you to me, as I’m one of the few people in the land who could believe him,” the king continued.

Eleandor frowned at the king. “They have no other sages. It is difficult for them to take me at my word when memories can be mistaken or read incorrectly,” he hissed.

“Yet you sent us word—your enemies—and we’re supposed to trust that you have no ulterior motive? That this isn’t a trap?” Casyl said.

“I have no enemies and no king. It’s for the greater good of our people, your people. That’s what we serve, whether or not you can see that.”

“Enough!” the king roared over them. “Let us see for ourselves.”

He walked over to Amelia and gripped the sides of her head before she could move. A burning sensation spread through her skull, like the one Eleandor had caused. She fought the sensation, thrashing against his grip, but darkness took over. Her vision faded, and she fell to her knees. A warm hand settled on her shoulder, steadying her. The warm grasp anchored her to consciousness.

The intrusion seemed endless. She felt him sifting through her memories. When he had finished, he released her, and she slumped forward. Casyl caught her by the shoulders and lifted her onto a nearby chair.

The king looked down at Amelia, his jaw clenched. The cold fury in his expression turned her blood to ice.

“She resisted,” he said through clenched teeth.

“What did you see?” Casyl turned to the king. “Is Eleandor right?”

The king nodded.