The next morning, as I made my way down the grand staircase, I tried not to think too much about the clean-washed marble tiles on the floor below—no sign of the blood Phoebus had lost. I tried not to think too much at all about our encounter, actually.
When I found the front hall empty, I almost smiled—felt a ripple in that hollow emptiness that had been hounding me. Perhaps now, perhaps in this moment of quiet, I could at last look through the art on the walls, take time to observe it, learn it, admire it.
Heart racing at the thought, I was about to head toward a hall I had noted was clearly covered in painting after painting when low voices floated out from the dining room.
I paused. The voices were tense enough that I made my steps silent as I slid into the shadows behind the open door. A cowardly, wretched thing to do—but what they were saying had me shoving aside any guilt.
"I just want to know what you think you're doing." It was Kallistê—the familiar lazy viciousness coating each word.
"What are you doing?" Phoebus snapped. Through the space between the hinge and the door, I could glimpse the two of them standing almost face-to-face. Phoebus's talons shone in the morning light.
"Me?" Kallistê put her hand on her chest. "By Vonain, Phoe—it almost seems as though you have given up already. You heard what Oberon said. Those hell-sent beasts are already testing our borders. They are trying to move North."
I frowned. If creatures like the Baphomet and Water Eidolons were migrating North, that would mean whatever was attacking Phoebus and Asteria was from the South. Impossible. There was nothing save for the human villages down South. Unless, unless—
Phoebus turned away but whirled back a moment later, his teeth bared. "It was a mistake from the start. I can't stomach it, not after what my father did to their kind, to their lands. I won't follow in his footsteps—won't be that sort of person. So back off."
"Back off? Back off while you seal our fates and ruin everything?" Oberon cut in as he stepped out of the shadows. "I stayed with you out of hope, not to watch you stumble. The Baphomet was on our lands—the Baphomet, Phoebus! The barrier between courts have vanished, and even our woods are teeming with filth like the Water Eidolons. Are you just going to start living out there, slaughtering every bit of vermin that slinks in?"
"Watch your mouth," Phoebus said.
Oberon stepped toward him, exposing his teeth as well. A pulsing kind of air hit me in the stomach, and a metallic stench filled my nose. But I couldn't see magic—only feel it. I couldn't tell if that made it worse.
"Don't push me, both of you." Phoebus's tone became dangerously quiet, and the hair on the back of my neck stood as he emitted a growl that was pure animal. "You think I don't know what's happening on my own lands? What I've got to lose? What's lost already?"
The attacks. Perhaps it was contained, but it seemed it was still wreaking havoc—still a threat, and perhaps one they truly didn't want me knowing about, either from lack of trust or because ... because I was no one and nothing to them. I leaned forward, but as I did, my finger slipped and softly thudded against the door. A human might not have heard, but all three of the Seelie Faeries whirled. My heart stumbled.
I stepped toward the threshold, clearing my throat as I came up with a dozen excuses to shield myself. I looked at Kallistê and Oberon and forced myself to smile. Both their eyes widened, and I had to wonder if it was because of that smile, or because I looked truly guilty. I turned to face Kallistê. "Are you going out for a ride?" I said, feeling a bit sick as I gestured behind me with a thumb. I hadn't planned on riding with her today, but it sounded like a decent excuse.
Kallistê's deep blue eyes were bright, though the smile she gave me didn't meet it. The face of Phoebus's court advisor—more court-trained and calculating than I'd seen her yet. "I'm unavailable today," she said and I turned pleading eyes to Oberon. He'd only given me a clap on the shoulder, shaking his head as he left. Kallistê jerked her chin to Phoebus. "He'll go with you."
Phoebus shot his friend a look of disdain that he took a few pains to hide. His usual baldric was armed with more knives than I'd seen before, and their ornate metal handles glinted as he turned to me, his shoulders tight. "Whenever you want to go, just say so." The talons of his hands slipped back under his skin.
No. I almost said it aloud as I turned to Kallistê, panic undoubtedly showing in my eyes. Kallistê merely gave me a grim smile as she passed by. "Perhaps tomorrow, human."
Alone in this dining room with Phoebus, I fidgeted.
He stood there, waiting. More predatory to me than anything.
"I don't want to go for a hunt," I said quietly. It was pure honesty. "I hate hunting."
He cocked his head. "Then what do you want to do?"
.____________________.
Phoebus led me down the halls. A soft breeze laced with the scent of roses slipped in through the open windows to caress my face.
"You've been going out for hunts," Phoebus said at last, "but you really don't have any interest in hunting." He cast me a sidelong glance. "No wonder you two don't catch anything."
No trace of the hollow, cold warrior of the night before, or of the angry Fae noble of minutes before. Just Phoebus right now, it seemed.
I'd be a fool to let my guard down around Phoebus, to think that his acting naturally meant anything, especially when something was so clearly amiss at his estate. He'd taken down the Baphomet—and that made him the most dangerous creature I'd ever encountered. I didn't quite know what to make of him, and said somewhat stiltedly, "How's your stomach?"
His hand reached to the wound as if subconsciously, brushing over the silk of his tunic before pulling back. "I didn't thank you."
"You don't need to."
But he shook his head, and I watched as the golden strands of his hair caught and held the morning light as if it were spun from the sun itself. "The arrow was tipped with a faevenom which was crafted to slow the healing of Seelie Faeries long enough to kill us. You have my gratitude." When I shrugged it off, he added, "How did you learn to bind wounds like this? I can still twist my torso, even with the wrappings."
"Trial and error. I had to be able to pull a bowstring the next day."
He was quiet as we turned down another sun-drenched marble hallway, and I dared a look at him. I found him carefully studying me, his lips in a thin line. "Has anyone ever taken care of you?" he asked quietly.
"Yes, but it had mostly been Theodore." I'd long since stopped feeling sorry for myself about it.
"Did you learn to hunt in a similar manner—trial and error?"
"I spied on hunters when I could get away with it, and then practiced until I hit something. When I missed, we didn't eat. So learning how to aim was the first thing I figured out."
"I'm curious," he said casually. The gold in his amber eyes was glowing. Perhaps not all traces of that beast-warrior were gone. "Are you ever going to use that knife you stole from my table?"
I stiffened slightly. "You saw me?"
From my peripheral, I could have sworn his brows were raised and a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I was trained to notice those little things since I was just a boy. But I could smell the fear on you, more than anything."
I grumbled, "I thought no one noticed."
He gave me a crooked smile, more genuine than all the faked smiles and attempted flattery he'd given me before. "Regardless of the Covenant of Peace, if you want to stand a chance at escaping my kind, you'll need to think more creatively than stealing dinner knives."
Cold sweat dotted my neck and arms as I stayed silent. If he noticed that, then there was no point in hiding he had probably noticed me eavesdropping by the door. "Kallistê said you had given up already. What did she mean? Are more creatures like the Baphomet going to come here thanks to the attacks?"
Phoebus stopped abruptly, his ears twitching as he absorbed every matter of sense. But then he shrugged, continuing his stroll. "I'm an immortal. I have nothing but time, Eleena. And I have not given up."
He said my name with such ... intimacy. As if he weren't a creature capable of killing monsters made from nightmares. I opened my mouth to demand for more of an answer, but he cut me off. "The force that is threatening to take over our lands and powers—that, too, will pass someday, of we're blessed by the Mother. But yes—now that the Baphomet entered these lands, I'd say it's fair to assume others might follow it, especially if the Water Eidolons were already so bold."
If the borders between the courts were gone, though, as I'd heard Kallistê and Oberon both say—if everything in Asteria was different, as Phoebus had claimed, thanks to these attacks ... Well, I didn't want to be caught up in some brutal war or revolution. I doubted I'd survive very long.
Phoebus strode ahead and opened a set of double doors at the end of the hall. The powerful muscles of his back shifted beneath his clothes. I'd never forget what he was—what he was capable of. What he'd been trained to do, apparently.
"As requested," he said, "the study."
I saw what lay beyond him and my stomach twisted.