Page 76 of Crown of Ashes and Desire

I recognized her from court—Martha, the woman Midas had once favored before casting her aside. Her fall from grace had been swift and brutal, leaving her to wander the palace corridors seeking solace in whatever spirits she could find. Even in apparent intoxication, she moved with the fluid grace thatbetrayed her otherworldly heritage. She leaned closer, studying me with unnerving intensity.

“I’ve been watching you since you arrived. Watching him parade you around like his newest trophy.” She touched the amulet at her throat, a blue eye that seemed to pulse with its light. “I recognize that look in your eyes—I had it once, before Midas discarded me. We’re not so different, you and me. Both of us are victims of shadow lords who take what they want and leave nothing but broken pieces behind.”

Something in her words resonated with my pain, creating an unexpected connection between us.

“If you ever need to time away from the shadows of this grim palace,” she whispered, “find me in the kitchens. I know ways out to the gardens that even the shadow lords don’t remember.”

I took a step back, instinctively wary. “Who are you?”

“Martha’s the name. Fairy godmothering’s the game.” She flourished a dramatic bow, her movements more controlled than her apparent drunkenness would suggest. “Or it was, before I ended up here.” She took another swig from her bottle and grimaced. “Shadow spirits. Terrible stuff. Burns like the devil going down, but at least it dulls the memories.”

“You can see my light?” I asked, surprised.

Martha tapped her chest, where a faint golden glow pulsed beneath her skin. “Fae blood. Not much—just a splash from great-grandmama’s indiscretion with a forest spirit—but enough to sense light magic. Enough to feel it calling to me in this godforsaken pit of shadows.”

Despite her inebriated state, her gaze was unnervingly sharp.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Information for information, honey.” She hopped onto a table and crossed her long legs as she studied me. “I have things you need to know. You have the power to set me free from this shadow-infested hellhole.”

I glanced at my guards, who had taken up positions at the library entrance. “What kind of information?”

“About the ritual,” Martha said, her voice dropping to a stage whisper. “About your husband’s father and his plans for your light. About pathways out of this realm that even Lady Narin doesn’t know exist.”

My pulse quickened. “How do you know about Narin?”

Martha’s laugh was brittle. “Oh, sweetie. Everyone with any sense in this place is trying to either use you, save you, or kill you. Probably all three. I just happen to be more straightforward about it because”—she raised her bottle in a mock toast—“I have nothing left to lose.”

She leaned closer, her opal eyes shifting colors like a kaleidoscope. “I’ve been watching you, you know. Ever since they brought you back. I know what it’s like to be trapped here against your will, to be a prize rather than a person.” She gestured around at the library. “These walls have eyes and ears, and I’ve learned to listen.”

I approached her cautiously. “If you have information about the ritual, why haven’t you shared it with Midas? You were his?—”

“Lover? Plaything? Disposable convenience?” Martha’s expression darkened. “Yes, I was all those things until he left me for another!” She gestured dramatically, liquid was sloshing onto the floor. “Midas—Erlik’s most trusted general and Hakan’s rival—who promised me the world and then cast me aside when a prettier face caught his eye. I, who gave him the spell that protects him from Erlik’s mind-reading! Me, who warmed his cold bed for three miserable years!”

Despite her theatrics, I sensed something genuine beneath her performance—a woman deeply wounded. At least she didn’t lose her mind. “What do you want from me?”

“Get me out.” Martha’s voice suddenly lost its affected quality, becoming clear and intent. “When you leave—and youwill leave, one way or another—take me with you. Back to the light realms, where shadow spirits don’t pass for fine wine and men don’t discard women like empty bottles.”

“And in exchange?”

Martha leaned forward, close enough that I could smell the liquor on her breath.

“I can tell you how to protect what you cherish most from Erlik’s sight.”

My blood froze. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.” Her mismatched eyes gleamed with triumph. “I know about your secret, the one you guard so fiercely. I know about your daughter—those green eyes just like her father’s, that special heritage as a child of both light and shadow. Sweet Kiraz with darkness and light in her veins.” She tapped her temple. “Fae blood, remember? We know things about children. The special ones with such rare magical lineage.”

I grabbed her wrist, digging my fingers in perhaps harder than necessary. “If you breathe a word of this to anyone?—”

“Oh, calm down.” Martha rolled her eyes and pulled free with surprising strength. “I live for the drama, and I can see why you’re insisting on keeping secrets. His mind is corrupt, but his heart might be salvageable.” She took another swig from her bottle. “But some things are sacred, even to a drunk fairy godmother. Children are one of them.”

I studied her, trying to gauge her sincerity through the alcoholic haze. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t.” Martha shrugged. “But I’m the only one in this cesspit who’s telling you the unvarnished truth. Think about it.” She hopped off the table. She wobbled slightly when she landed. “I’ll be around. When you’re ready to deal, ask for Martha in the kitchens. That’s where they keep me.” She winked conspiratorially. “Besides, that’s where the cooking wine is kept.”

Before I could respond, she sashayed away, humming tunelessly as she disappeared into the stacks. The guards watched her go with expressions that suggested this was a common occurrence.

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