Page 107 of Hunted in the Shadows
He eyed the gems set across the room, as though considering which would suit best to gift me. My heart sank when he strode for the exit without a single spell to dislodge one. He looked back, beckoning with that faint, knowing slant to his lips.
“Dine with us first. You’re correct that my people are grateful for stories that come from beyond our walls. Fresh company is more valuable than anything scrawled on parchment.”
Biting back impatience, I stole one last look at the gemstones behind me and conceded. As he led me out of the Sanctum, I memorized the path carefully.
21
Sylvia
Ihadn’t eaten blackberry tarts inmonths.
The scent of food hit me the moment I set foot over the threshold of the dining hall. Herbed potatoes, savory vegetable stews, spiced apples—and blackberry tarts.
The chamber was cavernous, flushed with the warm light of a dozen fae lights embedded in chandeliers overhead. The dangling teardrop crystals refracted the illumination across the craggy walls, making faint deposits of limestone glitter. I shut my jaw and held my head high to hide that I was salivating.
A pang hit me as we passed a number of long oak tables surrounded by fairies—eating, talking, laughing. It was too much like home, and I found myself taking comfort in the furnishings that were different. Plush cushions lined the walls, inviting after-dinner conversation. A few fairies seemed to have already finished supper and were deep in goblets of wine, speaking nearly nose-to-nose. A male—clearly a fire affinity—flexed his hand absently, playing with a tongue of flame that hovered in a wall niche.
As I scanned the faces around me, my stomach gave a faint twist of discomfort. Now that Marcellus had pointed it out, the lack of children was unsettlingly obvious. Though their bodies were youthful—no doubt the supple effects of drinking siren blood—I couldn't help but wonder at their true ages. Who had been the last among them to enter Veloria before indulging in the longevity of their peers?
When we were guided to sit, I was unsurprised to find myself placed beside Marcellus. A gold platter was placed before me, piled with food and insistence that I help myself to whatever I desired. I was too hungry to put on airs, to pretend that I wasn’t ravenous. I was on my second bite of rosemary potatoes when a horrible thought made my throat tight—what if they’ve poisoned it?
A sweeping glance around at the dozens of fairies passing food and eating plentifully set me at ease. Even the most bloodthirsty assassins surely wouldn’t kill a whole village simply to end me. Perhaps it was ego talking to even suspect poisoning; what threat was I to them? I was nobody.
“And how long will you be staying with us, Sylvia?” My name spilled so casually from the fairy sat across me—her voluptuous figure accented by her sand-colored dress that cinched with a gold belt at the waist.
“No longer than the evening,” I answered.At most.It couldn’t have been more than an hour or so, but Jon and Cliff were bound to be restless. I doubted they were surrounded by the same ample offerings.
This thought spurred me to my feet abruptly. I offered a weak smile in response to the curious and started looks that fell over those seated around me. Unable to ignore the stab of worry in my chest, I scanned the table and seized a platter of food that was still heaping—a silly gesture, but I wanted to offer my friendssomething.
Marcellus touched my elbow, shooting me an inquisitive look.
“My hunters must be famished,” I explained.
Marcellus relaxed into a smirk as if to say,Oh, is that all? “You needn’t worry. As promised, your hunters are being treated well. They’ve been given a fair portion of the feast.”
I pursed my lips, glancing toward the door. My chest twinged—hoping to hear one of their deep voices carrying off the stone walls.
Why haven't I heard their voices?
“You’re sure?” I asked.
“I was told firsthand,” Marcellus said, waving a hand to illustrate. “Stuffed mushrooms, pastries, and berry wine.”
The pendant around my neck gave a soothing stir—a calm rushing through me. It was agoodthing I wasn’t hearing the hunters cry out. Their silence meant safety,not certain death.
As Marcellus guided me back into my seat, I smiled to myself and set the platter on the table. Maybe this whole debacle wasn’t too much of an inconvenience for Cliff, given how he insisted I meticulously describe the taste of berry wine whenever I mentioned revels. Even Jon might appreciate the rare treat.
The thought made me reach for my goblet, hardly touched in my ravenous feasting. I carefully limited myself. The pleasant pulse of the gemstone around my neck alone felt like a touch of intoxication, making me drunk with hope and the idea of a full gemstone’s power being hours, perhaps even minutes away.
With that kind of power, my uncertainties about the future would melt away. I could craft my own future. I’d be free.
“Thank you again for the hospitality,” I told Marcellus. “I promise we won’t stay long enough to trouble you for another meal. Keeping up with the hunters’ appetite is a chore, to say the least.”
He chuckled. “Sylvia, you needn’t keep reminding me that you’re in quite the hurry. But I hope you understand that you are welcome in our walls for as long as you like.”
A woman in a light green gown hummed in thought. “It must be quite difficult keeping those brutes fed.”
A tingle of protectiveness raced up my spine, but I shoved it back down. I smiled tightly. “They sustain themselves just fine.”Even so, I could hear something defensive in my tone, so I quickly added, “In fact, I never worry about my own meals—they bring food to me without prompting anymore. They do whatever I need.”
