Page 107 of I Summon the Sea

We walk by tapestries depicting bacchanals in the woods. The sound of a lyra playing Persephona’s Lament echoes from somewhere inside the palace.

“I saw you volunteer, taking Lynn’s place before the first trial.” She keeps her voice low. “I’d love to know why, as none of us knew you from before, but just let me say, it was brave of you.”

Brave?I shake my head. Can’t have her thinking that. I had to get into the games, into the palace. That was all.

“You don’t seem vicious like some of the other humans,” she says, “and oh Gods, the fae. I’m more scared of this ball than the next trial, to be honest with you.”

I feel my mouth tugging into a reluctant smile, though she’s wrong to think that.

“Athdara saved some of us during the trial,” she continues in the same breath, “and I don’t care if he’s the king’s right hand. If he likes you, then I like you, too.”

I arch a brow at her. Is it that easy for her?

“Come on.” She grabs my hand as we go up yet another flight of wide stairs, and I stiffen before I force myself to relax. “I’d rather be friends with you, even if you’re Athdara’s ally, than with your enemies. Will that convince you?”

My smile returns. Yeah, that does sound more convincing, and the fact she’s the one giving me reasons to accept her touch and unlikely declaration is funny.

A bit embarrassing, even, like being offered a crutch.

Nonetheless, it might just be the truth. Jai is powerful, even if the water cancels his magic, and since we’re going into thesecond trial—unless the king changes his mind and anaccidentbefalls me—it’s not a stupid idea to befriend me and have his protection.

I can trust necessity more than affection, the inevitability of it. I wonder what that says about me. About everything I feel.

But with the next step, my line of reasoning snaps down the middle, my thoughts trailing behind, because we’ve reached the top of the stairs and the ballroom opens in front of us.

Technically it’s a roof garden, a terrace. Only the firmament is above us. The line of thick nightgold pillars surrounding the terrace, protecting it from the sea and its horrors, is the only wall.

As Arkin had described it, trees soar at the periphery of the roof, planted in enormous, circular black pots, flowers blooming around the trunks in a riot of colors.

Lanterns are strung from tree to tree and from pillar to pillar—but the real one, the World Pillar, steals the show. It rises in front of us as we clear the staircase and step onto the roof, brighter than ever, shimmering like mother-of-pearl, humming softly.

“Tonight is the longest night of the year,” Amaryll whispers. “Soon, the sky will darken, and the Pillar will light up the world.”

I hadn’t realized it was today. And I shouldn’t gawk at the beauty of the show the fae have put on.

Remember, this is a rite, and you are the sacrifice. You, and the entire human world.

“Let’s grab some drinks!” Amaryll doesn’t seem to be thinking along the same lines as me. Grinning, she takes my hand and drags me after her. “Relax and have fun, that’s what they told us to do, right? Who are we to say no? This could be the last night of our lives, after all!”

After a moment, I look back and find that I’ve lost Arkin in the crowd, but by then, we’ve reached a cluster of tables piledwith drinks and food, and Amaryll thrusts a long-stemmed glass into my hand.

“Just call me Ama,” Amaryll declares with a grin, lifting her own glass, and I wonder if she started drinking earlier in the day. “Cheers! To us, to victory, and may the best one… I don’t know. Survive?”

May the best woman win, I mouth the words, clinking our glasses together, and find myself grinning back.

“To survival,” she says and downs her drink. “Whoa.” She smacks her lips. “That’s strong.”

Strong and sweet and slightly sour. Fruity. I can feel its heat rising to my head.

“Oh, what are those? Sweets?” She bends so far over the table that she almost dips her bodice into a bowl with cut fruit, so I grab her arm and haul her back. “Want some?”

No, I don’t want anything, but the urge to giggle is so strong I give in. What is shedoing? She’s still trying to reach what looks like a platter of small cakes. The wine, or whatever that drink was, makes me feel… airy and light and unburdened.

Dangerous.

My giggling dies. Yeah, that drink is damn dangerous, and I should steer clear of it. It might even be the fabled faery wine.

It’s like Jai, delicious and dangerous and better avoided altogether. In fact?—

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