He bristled. “I did no such—”
“Even if you didn’t—they won’t. I tried. But…” I held my breath as the pressure behind my eyes grew. But it was no use. I couldn’t hold either thing back. “You left me here with nothing but my own mind. And I can’t stop thinking about… about everything.” I tugged at the pearlwort necklace. “The only time I’m not alone is when you appear for thirty seconds, touch my wrist, and disappear because… because…” I held up my hands, the purple stains covering my fingers and bleeding onto my palms—the poison as uncontrolled as my garbled words. “You put your blood in me and now I’m this thing.”
“I saved your life,” he growled.
“It wasn’t worth saving.”
Stillness rushed into the room, sucking out every sound.
Bastian stared at me, eyes wide. He couldn’t have looked more shocked if I’d slapped him.
My stomach condensed, tight and roiling around the brandy. If I could’ve pulled the words out of the air and stuffed them back into my mouth, I would’ve.
“You don’t mean that,” he murmured so softly I almost didn’t hear. “It’s just the drink talking.”
Maybe he was right. Maybe the brandy had affected me and I hadn’t realised. Did that make it wrong, though? Or was it a truth the drink had allowed me to say?
If the poison had killed me, my death （and thus my life） would’ve had meaning. Now…
I shook my head.
I needed direction. I needed something to do. I needed to not feel like unCavendish was ruling my fucking life from beyond the grave. The poison was his. I was here because of him. And this necklace—this fucking necklace was like his fingers around my throat.
I didn’t even know why. Who was he working for? Were they here in Tenebris? In the palace? Were they still after Bastian? Or me?
What—or who had put him on my path? On Ella’s… on Lara’s?
“Kat, I…” Bastian started closer, stopped, let his hands fall to his sides. The broad expanse of his chest heaved a few times before he spoke again.
Shoving away the questions chasing through my mind, I watched the glint of his piercing—better that than meeting his gaze.
“I’m sorry.” His shoulders sank. “I didn’t realise how cruel it was to lock you in here.” He looked around the room as if seeing it afresh.
I was only too happy to pretend I hadn’t said what I’d just said. This argument was just about being locked up. The dark turn of my thoughts—let him believe that was down to alcohol.
“I’ve been so absorbed with my work, and…” He bowed his head, pain etched between his eyebrows. “No, it isn’t that. Kat, I wanted to keep you safe.”
All this, for safety? My obsession. The gods had a shitty sense of humour sometimes.
“Locking me up is not keeping me safe. It’s torture.”
As he met my gaze, every cool edge of Business Bastian melted away. The man standing before me now was pained, contrite, and, judging by the way he clenched and unclenched his hands, torn. “I’m sorry. Truly. I promise I’ll fix this first thing in the morning.”
“Will I be able to go outside?”
“Yes, of course. I’m…” He shook his head. “Tomorrow, you’ll see the city, safely. I will fix this.”
The city. Beautiful and dangerous, just like fae.
But it held answers. Someone had to know about unCavendish. I had this necklace, and although it felt like a collar binding me to his leash, it was also a starting point.
Bastian had made it clear he wasn’t going to share his work and secrets with me. If I wanted to know who unCavendish was working for—and I needed to, for my sake and for Lara’s memory—I was going to have to find out for myself.
In silence, Bastian put the decanter away, and I let him usher me to my room. The fae lights dimmed as he left.
The shadow of his feet remained at the crack beneath my door for a long while.
10
Kat
Bastian was true to his word and at some ungodly hour the next morning, I found myself walking through the palace corridors with him. Target practice, he’d said—I needed to be able to protect myself.
I’d take that over being locked in his rooms.
I’d certainly take that over remembering what I said last night.
That wasn’t what I really thought about my life; I just needed something to do. I had to think it was worthwhile to have spent so many years clinging on to it.
Or was I just afraid of the alternative?
At my side, Bastian still looked tired—maybe even more so. The sun hadn’t yet risen, but would soon. He must’ve already gone to the Night Queen before she sank into her enchanted slumber. He couldn’t have had much sleep.
I was about to tell him not to worry, to go back and get some rest, when we stepped out onto a terrace overlooking a practice yard. But the chill of the early morning air wasn’t what cut off my words before they began.
Beyond the dummies and targets and other low buildings of the palace was Tenebris.
If I’d thought Luminis beautiful, then Tenebris was stunning.
Dark, glittering stone soared in the same graceful spires, though the golden rooftops seemed sharper somehow. Polished black basalt caught the dim pre-dawn light, contrasting with the cheerful coral pink glow spilling from hundreds of windows. I hadn’t worked out why fae fires were pink, save that it was because of some magical property, but now its strangeness seemed perfect against what would’ve been a sombre city at night.
And it wasn’t a dark city. Not at all.
As well as the light spilling from homes, fae lights of a dozen pale colours drifted through the streets. The plants I’d seen climbing up buildings and growing from the rock glowed green and violet.
Around me, the palace rose, darkly glorious. Where the palace in Luminis had flashed with the blue-gold-green of pale moonstone, Tenebris’s iridescence was the deep jewel of a magpie’s tail feathers. I touched my chest—the stone of my potion bottle matched perfectly.
I’d been so absorbed in my own misery, I hadn’t even thought to look out the window and see the city at night. I’d missed all this.
“The first time seeing Tenebris tends to have this effect.” Bastian’s low voice cut through my awe, and it was only then I realised I’d stopped and my mouth was hanging open.
“It’s… incredible.”
He shot me a small smile. “I’m glad my city meets with your approval. I may be biased, but I’m inclined to agree.” He set off towards the steps leading down into the practice yard. “Shall we?”
I followed, trying not to stare at the city and palace so much that I fell down the entire flight of steps.
As we walked through the yard, Bastian pointed at the practice dummies. “If you don’t have a clear shot to the head, I suggest aiming for the crotch.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Isn’t that an even smaller target?”
His eyes glittered as he smirked. “Yes. But if a man’s in fear of losing his prize jewels, it’s an almighty motivation to turn and run.”
“Vicious.” I scoffed. “I wouldn’t expect to receive that advice from a man.”