Page 19 of Lies Within the Darkest Tower

“Fucking moron,” he snarled again. “Everyone knows you don’t enter the Gray after sundown.”

He glared at me, and his gaze locked with mine, his silver eyes freezing me in place and making my heart skip a beat.

He was fae. My second fae today, and while logically I knew I’d meet more fae since half of the Black Guard was fae, I was still stunned to be face to face with another one so soon.

CHAPTER 12

Sage

The faewho’d rescued me wasn’t as beautiful as Lord Quill. His face was squarer, more rugged and rough, and he had three silvery white scars running across the bridge of his nose and halfway across his left cheek as if he hadn’t been fast enough to get completely out of the way of one of those monster’s claws. His gaze was hard, filled with a simmering anger, but there was still something breathtaking about him. Perhaps that was just because he was fae. The tales said all of his kind were mesmerizing and so far, I couldn’t disagree.

His dark hair — it could have been brown or black, it was hard to tell in the flickering torchlight — had a streak of white or silver running from his left temple, the lack of color a shocking contrast to the rest of his hair. It was longer than Lord Quill’s, but still only reached his shoulders and wasn’t the long hair the tales all claimed fae had. He’d pulled half of it back in a topknot, exposing his long and delicately pointed ears, and he wore the same black leather armor as Lord Quill had. But instead of a sheath for his sword and two daggers, he had that and half a dozen more daggers of various lengths strapped to his body.

His gaze raked down me and I shivered in fear. Did he know I was a girl? Had I failed before I’d even started?

Then his eyes narrowed and I realized he was staring at my arm with the binding spell. Could all fae see the spell?

No, if they could Lord Quill would have known I’d taken Sawyer’s place and would have stopped me before I’d gotten this far.

Which meant whoever this fae was, he could either control the spell or was important enough that he was able to see or sense it.

“And they’re now sending me children, years away from shaving.” He swung out of the saddle and handed the reins to a human man with sharp brown eyes and light brown skin the same shade as most of the people in Herstind March. He was probably only a few years older than me — my real age of twenty not Sawyer’s fifteen — and he wore the same black armor as the fae who’d save me. “Congratulations, Vyell. Your evening stable shift has been cut in half for the rest of your rotation. This idiot here will take your first half of the shift after the evening meal.”

“Yes, Lord Commander,” Vyell said.

The fae, the Lord Commander of the Black Guard, turned his attention back to me. “You’re also getting the full stable shift in the morning, too. Report to the stable at the second bell. You’ll muck the stalls, day and night, until you’re no longer stupid.”

He turned and marched across the bailey toward an enormous building that towered wide, dark, and imposing, half shrouded in shadows and mist despite the many torches around us.

“Well lucky you,” the other rider said to Vyell as he dismounted and handed over his reins. “A little extra lieu time.”

The man, Vyell, flashed him a huge smile and led the horses off to a long one-story building that took up most of the left-hand side of the bailey, leaving me with just the other rider.

He was human as well with shaggy brown hair, brown eyes, a deep tan, and was older than me by probably ten or fifteenyears. His face was hard, all sharp lines, and his jaw had a heavy dusting of dark stubble, making him look rougher than — although not as dangerous as — the Lord Commander. But there was also a softness to his gaze that the Lord Commander hadn’t had.

His lips quirked and his gaze dipped down my body, making me want to hug myself and hide. “I think you can put those away.”

“I can what—?” I snapped my mouth shut and cleared my throat, my pulse leaping in a quick tattoo again. I needed to remember to lower my voice and speak gruffly. Not saying anything would probably be safest, but I doubted I’d be able to get away with that, especially if I was going to be in the Tower for more than a few days.

The man pulled a cloth from a pocket sewn into his jerkin and held it to me. “You should probably clean them first, though. Shadow blood is nasty stuff.”

“Clean them—?” I asked as gruffly as I could. And jeez, why couldn’t I get a full sentence out?

“Your weapons.” He dipped his gaze down my body again and I realized he wasn’t looking at me but my hands still clutching my sword and dagger as if my life depended on it.

I tucked my sword under my arm — since I didn’t want to sheath it while covered in monster blood — took the offered cloth and wiped my dagger. He took another cloth and cleaned his own blade before sliding it home.

“So,” he said as I sheathed my dagger and wiped my sword. “Are you arrogant to think you could use the ring after sunset or just stupid?”

So much for thinking that softness in his gaze said he was less pissed off at me than the Lord Commander.

“Noteveryoneknows you shouldn’t enter the Gray after sunset.” And it had barely been sunset when I’d left. I hadn’t expected full night when I’d stepped through the ring.

“So, you’re a noble who never thought his name would be called.” He jerked his chin and headed toward the monstrous building at the back of the bailey. “Well, you’re not a lord now. You’re a grunt like the rest of us and you’d be wise to learn that quickly.”

“Yes, my lord,” I mumbled, the submissiveness Edred had beaten into me over the last eight years kicking in on instinct, and I hunched my shoulders, trying to look smaller and less… well, less like me, because Edred never liked how I looked, and being smaller and nonconfrontational had saved me from a number of beatings.

“I’m not a lord. Only the Lord Commander and the captains of the Gold Tower, White Tower, and Shadow Guard are lords.” He glanced at me, his eyes narrowing, and I realized I was acting like a woman and not a boy. Sawyer had always stood straight and met Edred’s gaze even when the Marquis was yelling at him.

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