The Abyss (Fae's Captive #7) - Lily Archer Page 0,11

know someone whose hope never falters, someone who can speak of the winter realm and the feel of equality.

I gently pull Beth from under my arm. “My beloved.” I stroke her face.

“What?” Her eyes go wide. “Sorry, I kind of zoned out. Speeches, you know? They’re always boring. I mean, this one is good and everything, but I was thinking about—”

“Beth?”

She bites her lips together. “Mmmhmmm.”

“I need you to tell them about the winter realm. About how you were treated there. What it means to be free.”

“Me?” She shakes her head. “I can’t—”

“Up you go.” I lift her to my shoulders as she tries to smack my head and protest.

But once she’s standing on my shoulders, she stops and straightens.

“Tell them, Beth.” Silmaran reaches out and takes her hand.

“Tell them what?” Beth’s voice is loud and beautiful, melodic against Silmaran’s lower tones.

Silmaran smiles. “Everything.”

6

Beth

“Look, I’m not trying to brag or anything, but I gave a damn good speech, right? I mean, who knew I would be the best speaker at that whole thing? Silmaran was great and all, but I brought down the house! Talking about how I used to serve cruel masters, got nabbed by the Catcher—curse him to the Spires—and how the winter realm is everything I’d ever dreamed of. Equality? Yes. Good food? Yes. Even better desserts? Also, yes. I mean, I could have gone on for hours, and they would’ve let me. They were eating out of my hand, hanging on every word, listening with bated—”

Gareth presses a finger to my lips.

I frown. “What?”

“Chastain has been trying to get a word in for the past fifteen minutes.”

I turn toward the golden fae. “Really?”

“As much as I’ve enjoyed this third, or maybe fourth, retelling of your speech, I’d like to speak with you.”

I lean back on the uncomfortable sofa and yawn. We’d taken a new, mostly intact villa for our base of operations. Silmaran was out making sure the city was fully secured, Parnon was searching for Eldra and Nemar, and the rest of Chastain’s close associates were tending to the wounded—slave and high fae alike.

Chastain sits on the ornate coffee table in front of us. “Look, I’ll get right to the point. I know you want to travel south to the mines, but we could really use the two of you here. The city is reeling, the slaves need guidance, and the high fae need reassurances that they won’t be slaughtered in the middle of the night.” He gestures to Gareth. “Given your bloodline, you’d be the perfect person to quell the high fae fears. And, you—” He turns his gaze back to me. “You can help me anchor Silmaran, serve as an advisor on all the plans she has to start and maintain equality. More importantly, we’re going to need allies when Queen Aurentia learns that Cranthum has fallen.”

I stifle another yawn. “You forgot to include the part where Sil wants to march on Byrn Varyndr and free all the slaves there.”

He runs a hand through his light hair. “Yes. And that. See? We need you.”

“You’re right. You need help.” I nod.

Gareth turns to me, his green eyes curious. “You’re saying you want to stay?”

“I might want to, but we can’t.” I hate the disappointment on Chastain’s face. “I want to help. I do. But I’ve made a promise, and I can’t break it. Saving one is just as important to me as saving all. And through all of this, I’ve never wavered on why I’m here. I’m going to the mines. I’m getting Clotty out of that hole, and I’m taking her somewhere safe. I owe it to her, and I owe it to myself.” I’m tired and blunt, but he needs to know my truth. Clotty is the reason I started down this road, and she’s the reason I’m going to finish it. “Anyway, so yeah, sorry, but we’re off to the mines first thing in the morning.”

I expect more arguments from Chastain, more well-thought-out points of why we should stay. Instead, he leans back a little and looks up at the cracked ceiling in this ridiculously ornate sitting room. “The mines,” he murmurs.

“Right. That’s what I said like five times. We’re going to the mines.” I lean over to Gareth and whisper in his ear. “He going deaf?”

Gareth snorts a laugh.

“Thousands. Maybe more.” Chastain rises and begins to pace in front of a fancy fireplace. A fireplace. In the desert. Where there is no wood. Rich fae are so dumb sometimes.

A squeak