Claus

Forty-One

Faryn awoke in a cave.

The walls surrounding her were infused with long strawberry-pink and lemon-yellow crystals. The ceiling slanted upward, the highest point at the center. The cave was a circle that was maybe eight feet or so across. An iron door was set into the rock, the only visible way in or out.

Leaning against the rock wall across from her, her mother and grandfather spoke in Kalaallisut—Greenlandic. Though Faryn's head pounded and her teeth ached, she knew the reason they were speaking it was because they didn't want her to understand.

None of them were shackled though there were chains bolted into the rock. Faryn was surprised she wasn't.

"How long have I been out?"

Clora and Father Winter paused their conversation.

"A few hours," her grandfather said.

So Nick hadn't starved yet. He was still alive. They couldn't be charged with murder.

Was the fact that Cassian, Peter and Clíodhna weren't in here with them because they had managed to escape?

"Faryn." Her grandfather leaned forward. "I don't want to hurt you, but I will always choose my daughter. Do anything to jeopardize her and I will not hesitate to silence you."

She sunk back into the wall. Had he been the one who had knocked her out? He'd had centuries to hone his powers since he held the mantle of Jack Frost. She'd no doubt he could kill her in seconds. Or paralyze her at the very least. Her cousin Jack had to have had more back up with him than she had thought if he overpowered both Father Winter and Clora Claus.

Between Nick's life and her own, she would always choose hers. But what if it was between her own and her mother's? To save Clora, she had to save Nick, and to do that she had to condemn her mother.

Unless Faryn took the fall for everything.

"You are young, Faryn," her grandfather said. "You don't know what time is really like. Your mother has spent over a century suffering, almost two. You can't even imagine yet what a century is like."

"That shadow is already looming over me. Because of what she did, I'm facing spending centuries chained to ice." Faryn sneered. "Maybe at least now I'll have you for company."

When the door finally opened, Faryn estimated that an hour had passed since she'd awoken. Guards carried food inside. They were dressed in black uniforms trimmed with gold.

Worried her grandfather would carry through on his threat if she dared speak, she remained silent, analyzing the guards' movements as they carried in the trays. She counted the seconds they spent in the cell, and when they left, she filed it away to turn over.

She glanced at her grandfather as he broke apart the roll on his tray. There was nothing keeping any of them from using their magic—well besides for Faryn's blatant lack of ability to use hers consistently. Certainly, though if they drew on their power, they'd be delt a swift punishment. It was a risk her grandfather would definitely be willing to take if it meant protecting Clora from her own daughter.

She needed to get to Nick before he starved. Perhaps they would interrogate them individual. How would her grandfather stop her then?

The fact that her mother and grandfather, unchained, had not used their magic to overpower the guards, said tons, though Faryn just didn't know exactly what. Did they know they wouldn't be able to make it past the rest of the dungeon's guards? Were they trying to play the model innocent prisoner?

She racked her brown for what she knew about Darhafium, the home of the Spirit Court There was an entrance in New Corinth, but there were also entrances along the Mediterranean. There'd be a train in New Corinth that would go straight to Franavik. Somehow that—Acurial transportation—seemed like the easiest option. The kind the Humans used would require her to travel by car to and from airports. And without her passport, she'd never board a plane, and even if somehow she did manage to make it to Greenland, she wasn't sure what car place would rent to a twenty-two-year old without charging a hefty fee. None of that mattered though. Without her wallet, she wouldn't be able to pay for anything.

But if she could manage to sneak onto the train in New Corinth—stowaway in the baggage car—the train would all but drop her off on her grandfather's doorstep.

And maybe—no. It was too foolish to hope Nick would lie about what her mother had done in order to protect his ego.

Faryn's grandfather didn't finish his food and gave the leftovers to her mother who stood and walked the bowl over to Faryn.

"Here," she said softly. "Take it"

Faryn only did so, adding it to her tray, because if she did manage to escape, she didn't know when the next chance was she'd get to eat.

Escape.

The idea was daunting. She didn't know where her cell was located in the dungeons and beyond that she didn't know where in Darhafium the dungeons were or how to get to the gate that would put her out in New Corinth. It was the only gate that exited into an Acurial city. Though some gates led out into countries in Africa along the Mediterranean, they weren't positioned in cities. Besides for Maladh in Morocco, the rest of the Acurial cities on the continent were farther south. So it had to be the gate to New Corinth.

She lifted her grandfather's bowl to her lips and tilted it back to drink the soup that was different than what Faryn's bowl had held. This was a pumpkin squash concoction that was reminiscent of baby food.

"Do you think Klaus will come?" Clora asked her father.

"He'll want to see you. You know that."

Clora stretched out her legs. "I imagine we won't get any sleep tonight."

Faryn set the bowl to the side. "Why?" Were they planning to interrogate them?

"The Spirit Court is throwing a ball."

"How do you know?" She couldn't imagine her mother attending many functions in Darhafium.

"They have them twice a week, every week." She scowled. "The ones I've been to have all been very unrefined."

"Uncouth," her grandfather added.

The picture that entered Faryn's head was a revel, the kind Fae and Elves used to have together before the massacre.

She wanted to go. She wanted to dance. Drink wine until she forgot all about Nick and dungeons and the Frozen City.

She wanted to forget about winter entirely even for a few hours.

If they would be able to hear the ball, the dungeons must be close to the palace, and if Spirit Court members often frequented the bars and taverns in New Corinth, then Faryn couldn't be far from the gate.

When I posted Chapter 42 today (Friday), it got automatically paywalled. I've pulled it until I can get it sorted out. Thank you for your patience, and I'm so sorry the chapter is going to be delayed!