Then, I lifted the hem of the delicate dress and buckled the holster around my thigh. I could just barely get it around my thigh with the new hole—a bit uncomfortable, but it would have to do. I slipped into the plain blue flats.
As I crossed back into the bedroom, I tried to ignore the fact that I wasn’t wearing any underwear—just his dagger under my dress.
Lyr closed his book, his blue gaze resting on me for a moment. “Better.”
“You think?” I crossed to the window. “So where is this thing we’re looking for? Nearby?”
“I believe so.”
I leaned out as I looked down at the sandstone walls beneath us. As I did, my stomach curdled. Skulls dotted the walls—some horned like demons, but many were fae or human.
Worst of all, a fresh body hung from one wall in chains—a woman with pink hair and a white dress, the front of it stained brown with blood where her throat had been slit. Moonlight glinted off a collection of charm bracelets on one of her slender wrists. Blood stained her glittery tennis shoes.
I cleared my throat. “What happened to her?”
“I slit her throat.” His tone was casual, almost bored.
Just in case I might have thought that the hot bath and fancy dress meant Lyr was a nice guy, the body dangling below me was a sharp reminder of the truth: I couldn’t let my guard down around him.
Chapter 12
“And why did you slit her throat and hang her body from your walls?” I prompted.
“As a message to others who would break the fae laws. Every skull and corpse you see on the castle walls belonged to outlaws and dirtlings.”
Dirtling, incidentally, was what he liked to call me.
I backed away from the window. I was no stranger to the macabre, but the sea fae had a very different notion of moral authority than I did. I didn’t kill little girls just for breaking rules.
“What crime did she commit?” I asked.
He lifted the silver key from his neck. “She tried to steal this.”
I knew the key had to be worth a ton of money. Worth risking your life over. “You slit her throat and hung her from a wall because she tried to steal your necklace?”
“Are you judging me for killing? You have slaughtered plenty, Aenor, Flayer of Skins.”
“For very naughty things. Murder, disfiguring other people. Not, like, pinching jewelry, you know?”
His stare cut right through me, like every sentence I uttered was some kind of crushing disappointment to the entire fae race. “It’s not jewelry. It’s a tool that helps to open the worlds. It’s called a World Key.”
Good to know. Valuable.
The silver ring lay on the floor where the portal had appeared. Was that part of how the worlds opened? I knelt down to look at it. It wasn’t attached to the stone, and I picked up. I dropped it around my waist, hula-hooping with it. “And this? Is this part of how you open portals?”
Lyr was watching my hips move rhythmically back and forth. Maybe the comb I’d used hadn’t entranced him, but the hula-hoop seemed to do the job.
“That’s not required, no. It just keeps the portal opening tidy.” With what seemed like a lot of effort, he pulled his gaze away from my shifting hips, his blue eyes narrowing. “Do not even think of stealing the key from me. For one thing, you will find yourself on the receiving end of my justice, and for another, you probably wouldn’t be able to use it. And if you did figure it out, it would sicken you to the point where you’d yearn for death.”
“I wouldn’t dream of stealing from you.” I flashed him an innocent smile and kept hula-hooping, enjoying the fact that it seemed to throw him off guard.
He touched the key at his throat. “As Grand Master of the Institute, it is my duty to keep the magical realms shut.” He lifted the key. “The woman you saw hanging outside didn’t know she’d be unable to use the key, that it required my magical signature to open a world. She tried to seduce me and stop my heart so she could steal it.”
Interesting. “And how far did she get with her seduction?”
Lyr’s gaze had drifted to my hips again. “And why is that detail important?”
Why was that important? It wasn’t—not to me. It’s not like I was thinking about what it would be like to seduce him. Only an idiot would be thinking about tying him down, straddling him, and running her tongue over him, a sexual interrogation until he gave up the answers. My body was growing hot in the humid Acre air.
I cleared my throat and let the silver hoop drop to the floor. It clanged over the stones. “It’s not important. You said something about dinner?”
With the hoop on the ground, the sharp focus returned to his eyes.
He turned to the heavy wooden door and pulled it open. “Follow me.”
I followed Lyr into a hall of dizzyingly high arches with torches on the walls. I kept thinking of the woman hanging outside. One misstep here, and I was sure I’d be joining her. Without my true power, I’d have a hard time defending myself against the knights.
As we walked further into the corridor, trees grew within the castle itself. Red-berried rowan trees arched over us, their boughs climbing the arches. Little white lights twinkled among the branches. These were sacred trees to the fae—native to our homelands. The sea fae must have imported them here from the British Isles.
On one side, rounded openings in the trees revealed a pool of turquoise water. Gosh, they had a nice place here.
Colored sea glass dappled the walls. Ages ago, I would have felt right at home in a place like this. Now, I’d be much more comfortable lounging on a sofa with Gina in a pair of stretchy shorts, watching reality TV. Eating Pop-Tarts.
I hadn’t always been stuck underground. Humans didn’t even know the fae existed till a few decades ago. But once they caught on? All supernaturals were under tight control, ruled by the knights.
Now, I’d come into their world, where the vaulted ceilings soared thirty feet high, and gold engravings glinted in the torchlight. Flags hung on the walls, decorated with family crests—eels, starfish, waves, the runic symbol for the sea god—
My blood raced at the sight of my own family crest—a mythical white horse emerging from frothy water. My family crest, from my mother’s line. The House of Meriadoc. A long-buried power fluttered between my ribs like a dying moth, then sputtered out again, leaving me feeling empty.
“Your mother’s herald.” His voice held a sort of reverence.
“It’s mine too.” I waved at the flags. “Seems like a fire hazard. All the flags and the torches.”
“Keep moving.”
I straightened my back as the corridor opened into an enormous, dimly lit hall with a round table.
Only two of the knights sat at the table—the two males I’d seen before, Gwydion and Midir. Melisande wasn’t there, luckily. I’m not sure I’d have been able to stop myself from trying to pull her wings off.
Gwydion rose abruptly, snatching his goblet of golden wine as he did. His boots clacked over the stones as he crossed to us, and a faint smile curled his lips. The torches bathed his brown skin in gold. “Ah. You recovered from your head injury.” He frowned at Lyr. “You healed her?”