Page 70 of I Dream of Dragons
Sitting down, I reconsider that thought. Reframe it. I shouldn’t think that way. A smile can hide great pain. But I can’t help but wonder how Amaryll made it this far. Color me intrigued. Jai, Mera, and I aren’t fully human, but her?
I open my mouth to greet her, but she lifts a hand to hide her face, not letting me get out a single word.
“Don’t look at me,” she whispers. “I’m ashamed I pushed you away in the arena. But I can’t regret it.”
“Then don’t regret it,” I say. “These are messed-up times. This is a messed-up place. Let’s drink.”
Her hand falls away and her gaze comes up. She looks startled.
One of the fae aristocrats seated between us clears his throat pointedly. “The king!” he hisses. “The king is speaking!”
I jerk my head around and find the king giving me that cold glare that throws ice down my spine.
“As I was saying before this human lost her way coming to the hall…” His mouth curls in a tight smirk. “I bid you welcome to the second tier of celebrations in honor of the exulted Pillar.”
Oh Gods, Mars, are you in there, still? How far buried under that cold face, that cold heart, are you?My shaky belief that I’ll talk to him and all will be fine loses some more ground.
Don’t, I tell myself.Don’t go borrowing trouble where there’s none. Don’t let yourself be shaken by this show he puts on for his nobles. You’ll talk to him in private. You’ll find out everything. And then maybe…
Maybe I’ll convince him to give up on his plans to open new gates.
To stop tormenting humanfolk and finnfolk.
To revert to his former, kinder self. To the boy I loved.
Sounds like the fairytale endings I said I don’t believe in—but shouldn’t I believe that there is kindness in Mars? Locked in deep, sure, and the key is probably lost.
But if I’m not that key, then what am I?
“We did not expect any survivors,” the king’s words drop like stones in the spreading silence. “The second trial has for many a year ended without any victors. Not this time. This time we have four survivors who will enter the third trial.”
A murmur winds itself like a snake among the fae. They obviously didn’t realize that apart from me and Jai there are more survivors.
“Rise, humans,” the king says, “and let everyone see you.”
In case they hadn’t noticed us, in case they need a plaything to pass the time until the next trial, I think bitterly as I get back up, smoothing down the skirt of my gown.Here we are for your morbid entertainment. Take a good look.
Where Amaryll is dressed in pale green and Mera in deep red, I am wearing a gown of light blues and greens like the foam in certain parts of the ocean, the demure neckline and scalloped sleeves giving me an air of innocence that I don’t feel.
And then there’s Jai, still leaning against the wall, arms still folded over his chest, that bored look on his face.
What is he doing?
“Let’s drink,” the king says, raising his glass. “To the Pillar and the opening of gates. To the return of those who passed and the remembrance of those not coming back.”
“To the Pillar!” the fae chant. “To the gates.”
Jai doesn’t move, and that seems to be the last straw for the king.
“Athdara, the king’s sword!” his voice thunders. “Join us at the table. Now!”
That’s not a request. It’s a command.
Everyone falls silent, staring at the unfolding show.
After a long moment, a little too long, Jai pushes off the wall and approaches the table. The servant pouring the wine into the tall fluted glasses steps hurriedly away as Jai grabs the glass and brings it to his lips.
“To the Pillar,” he says. “And to love that never dies.”
