Join me in night painted with crimson and black.

Her white hair fell cascade over her shoulders, when her feathered collar sprouted around her neck, like touched by magic. Her wings adorned thin silver chains, and her body closed in a dress made from finest black silk. She was surrounded by tiny fairy lights, but most of them drifted around Lorian, attracted by his dark aura.

She still was unsure of all of this. Lorian was determined to just push the human girl on the ballroom floor and let the charm do the rest. She was sure that he could succeed. That it will make her eager enough to swallow each drop of the apple blood. But at the same time… Lorian so far was keeping incoming godly genocide in a perfect secret, known only to her. And even then, she sensed he never told her full truth.

Which annoyed her. She sent her spies to Natsel’sorl and ordered them to force out the truth from the Changelings. But they refused to speak. Refused so hard, that she knew Lorian gave special orders, even against her.

Frustrating. He was hiding something that was involving the death of many fey. Hers too. Ah, how frustrating.

Lorian told her about the gods long ago. The bitter and dangerous truth of the elemental creatures absorbing fae magic, leaving them to agonizing death. It was known to his father and Lorian was given this knowledge when he ascended. He read so much about the gods and when he realized the time of massacre was coming, he started to put his plans in motion.

She was at first trying to pull more from him, but forcing Lorian was like forcing a storm cloud.

Not that she didn’t trust him.

She was worried.

Not only of her own life, but also his.

She reminded herself about his empty eyes, back in the night, when he loved her. Something was going the wrong way. And she found a weak mind that was easy to manipulate enough to break the silence of the Changelings. She knew he wouldn’t be pleased if he found out. When he finds out. He rarely was resorting to invading her mind, not against her will. But if she tries to go and use her own ways, it will be a matter of days, he penetrates her head.

She knew he may be very displeased. But she loved him and she knew he loved her too.

There should not be any secrets between them, not when their lives were in danger.

She gazed at Lorian, who was waiting for her, small smile on his lips.

“I think we should starve her further” her brows furrowed, noticing his carefree and relaxed pose.

Lorian supported his chin on his hand and smiled wider.

“She is so eager to dance and laugh with us.”

“Do not joke, Lorian.”

He sighed, his smile fading, when he slowly stood up from his seat and approached her. She looked at the mirror. Her face and body reflected in it, showing everything. That meant, also their magical forms, flickering against their real reflection. Nymre form glistened with raven feathers, beak and eyes like falling snow, white, glittering like galaxies. Lorian’s – a shadow, pure, beautiful and tempting. His aura, dark, and alluring and her – strikingly pale, like gossamer and early morn.

“I thought you believed more in my methods,” he said, with a low tone.

“I do. But you said, we have less and less time.”

His chin on her arm. His shadows brushed her hair, mingling with her slightly lilac tangles.

“Especially since we have less time. If she decided to prolong it… we can’t risk losing her. She is the only thread that binds the vessel with Ain’asel. I like seeing her alive… just as I like seeing us live. When we finish with her though, I will dispose of her as any other human.”

Like Leira. Her mind brought the image of Lorian’s slave. Such pleasant obedience. Such devotion. Such beautiful face.

“I don’t doubt your enchantment will work. But others will start pondering while we make a ball for a human girl. Why you dance with a human girl.”

“Dancing with a human girl is not forbidden.”

“Oh, Lorian, you know what I mean.”

“Humor me, please.”

“Your enemies” scoffed Nymre. “You know you have them. They crawl from the stones under the foundations of Dal’coler.”

“Enemies… yes. Numerous, even. Dangerous, if someone isn’t aware what’s in their minds. I give them sweet illusion of being able to hide” Lorian laughed lightly, like nothing happened. Ever. “They crawl and writhe, my cruel raven. Until my boot stops them to move at all.”

“You joke too much tonight, my lord” she teased him, but her tone was serious. Alnam was someone they all should keep their eyes on. Lorian didn’t want to kill him, back then, as he still was too important. Now she would squeeze his soul between her fingers. Even at risk of losing his followers. But Lorian seemed to control everything, in his own way. “Alnam tempts me to open his chest and pull his heart out.”

“One day maybe I will offer you his heart, still pulsing, dripping off blood” he purred. “Keeping a watchful eye on him is one of my prerogatives. Yet…”

“Yet?”

“His mind is better guarded than most of the High Fae. Which means, of course I can enter it, but he may keep something hidden, deep in the deepest shelf of his own mental library” Lorian took a lock of her hair and pulled it over her ear. “But…”

Nymre moved impatiently.

“But, for that we have spies” he chuckled, light, airy laughter. “And one of them does his job even better than one could predict.”

Nymre’s face lit up.

“Ah, so you say that…”

“Yes, my raven.”

“They should come with this to me, Lorian. I am the spymaster.”

“I wouldn’t claim otherwise. This one was told to bring me news as fast as he can.”

Nymre lifted her hand and touched his face. The raven in the mirror delved into shadowed form behind her.

“Please, share everything with me. When the ball ends.”

Lorian grinned at her in a beautiful way. Heart-melting.

“I will mind uncovering everything before you.”

Nymre relaxed. He didn’t suspect her own steps towards the case of the gods. She really hoped that he would forgive her. But… she had to know what torments him, what causes his face to be so tense and why his eyes become darker than black could withstand.

“Come then, my stubborn lord. To try the magic and glamour” her wings brushed over his shadowed form, reflected in the mirror and she felt, really felt, how the night surrounded them and licked with black flames.

His eyes in the mirror looked at her intensely. She could almost see his future disappointment in them.

What one doesn’t do for love, though?

Mina was starving.

The food they gave her barely kept her on her feet. They all waited for her to eat the apple, which she refused every time a small fey called Oosel brought it to her. She suspected that if she tried, something bad would happen. Something irreversible, something that would make not only her but also Tiyan suffer. She still didn’t know what they wanted from Tiyan, but they were desperate to force him here, using her as bait. And that gave her a little hope that they would not kill her. And not do something really terrible to her.

More terrible than being hungry. Worse than the nights in this place.

Nights. The first one she spent in the Fae palace, almost unconscious, but the second one is etched in her mind forever. The first two were just as terrible, but the second one, when she suspected nothing, was the worst.

For every night she was torn from her sleep to dance in the empty halls, to pass through the ghastly, lonely corridors filled with wind and nothingness. They seemed to have been made just for her, to make her legs tremble and her mind whirl in a vicious jig.

The Hall of Mirrors, where her reflections tore at her robes, laughed at her, their eyes empty and white.

The chamber where the walls pulsed with veins, reaching for her with horrible tendrils of flesh, ready to devour her.

Many rooms, many corridors, filled with horrible things, and wind, so much wind, gusts dancing in her hair, making her look like a water nymph, with tangles spreading in all directions, wild, untamed and touched by pure magic.

And it was no dream. Her feet were always covered with dirt when she woke up in the morning. Oosel came with the sunburned apple and asked if she liked their hospitality. Mina was always left alone, afraid, but not any closer to eating the fruit.

She remembered the nursery rhyme.

She remembered the blood dripping from the apple as Lorian squeezed it with his blackened claws.

She always wondered why they even bothered to ask her to eat it. They had all the power they needed to make her do it. Some unpleasant thoughts came to her, some that promised an even worse fate if she finally gave in and took the apple.

On the tenth night something changed. She was no longer alone. The distorted faces were looking at her, smiling at her, inviting her to join them in that strangely seductive place behind the curtains. Again, cat eyes, but so much death in them, and so much forbidden beauty… she woke up in her room – her prison – with her chest heaving, fear engulfing her, a promise of something that would change her perception… and shatter her free will.

Oosel came in with a good portion of meat, vegetables and bread, and Mina didn’t know whether to throw herself at it, as hungry as she was, or to watch the little Fae as she prepared it for her.

“You really want to feed me?” Mina finally said, not liking Oosel’s gaze, which passed over her with a certain amount of curiosity and badly suppressed malicious enjoyment.

“Oh, why does she even ask?” smiled Oosel, her tiny teeth showing. “She can’t be so thin… so hungry. It speaks ill of Lord Lorian and the way he treats his guests.”

You didn’t care so far, Mina thought.

But she was still cautious. Who knew what else they might try to stuff her with without her even knowing what she was putting in her mouth. But she was exhausted, tired… she knew that one day she would eat whatever they gave her, as Lorian said. She preferred that to apples, which were a much more obvious threat.

She sat on her bed and Oosel – kindly – offered her the meat with bread.

Mina stuck a small fork into the meat – nothing happened. No eyes popped out of the plate. No blood even. It might have been very raw, barely cooked, but she had eaten almost rotten animals before. Nothing was too raw for her. She took the bite and, looking carefully at Oosel, bit into it.

The feeling of eating meat, normal meat, would be enough to make her cry with joy. But this… it was better, so much better than anything she had ever eaten. Ever. It tasted like dancing in the hay at midday in summer. Like a Midsummer’s Eve celebration, with the whole family and a blazing fire in the fireplace. It was good, and it washed her with memories she never had.

“Oh, the human girl likes the nhihdira meat,” Oosel laughed. “Good, yes? Hunger doesn’t torture her anymore?”

Mina choked a little and took another mouthful as she drank water from the cup. If she were to die now, she would die full.

Don’t even think about it. It’s the first step to falling to your knees.

Oosel looked at her like a scarecrow in the fields of the Vennklan valley, with her wild hair, her sharp teeth and her empty eyes, indifferent as the force of nature. Mina slowed down.

It was so unreal, so frightening, that she almost lost all sense of right and wrong. She would hide in the corner of the room if it would help, but it wouldn’t. She felt that in this world, if you act like a prey, they will prey on you. If you show yourself to be vulnerable, they will feed on your fear and desperation. This reality numbed her. No need to hide if you can’t hide.

And questions can hurt, but they can also help. She preferred knowing to oblivion.

“Why did you give me so much food?” she wanted to know. “Am I to be sacrificed and do you need me fat?”

“Oh, but then why should we starve her?” grinned Oosel bluntly. “She’s going to the ball, of course! Must look better than a thin leaf in the cruel winter. She must look beautiful. A star that has fallen from the sky to grace us with her radiance.”

Mina immediately thought of the eyeball dress. Oosel, as if to confirm her fears, patted her cheek and grinned so broadly that her lips parted unnaturally. Mina was past the point of being scared, but this scared her. It really did.

“We will dress her like a beautiful lady and give her into the good hands of Lord Lorian. He will show her everything. From up to bottom.”

Mina swallowed, and she almost heard the meat pass down her throat, a last morsel, heavy and hard. She did not even ask if she could go. She knew that nothing depended on her here. And the way Oosel painted her made her scream inside.

“Why are you doing this?” she dared to ask. “Why do you want me to eat the apples and keep me here and… as if nothing had happened, you ask me to go to the ball?”

“Sweet child…” Oosel looked like a cat who had discovered a very frightened and very exposed mouse. “Would you rather be kept in a dungeon?”

“No, of course not, but…”

“Wonderful!” Oosel beamed with genuine joy and clapped her hands. “The ball will bring out her inner charm. Why sit here, lonely, when she can enjoy herself?”

Mina already knew she would not be enjoying herself. But she was sure the Fae would.

Oh, they will.

From up to bottom.