CHAPTER NINE
BETH
We hadn’t walked more than a few yards when my vision dimmed and I stumbled. Bleddyn was quick to grab my arm to steady me.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I felt weird for a moment.”
He didn’t respond, but took a right turn away from the throng. Two doors down was a building with old-fashioned windows, the glass bisected by sturdy wooden posts. The shutters were pulled back, but ready to slam into place if necessary. The sign said “Apothecary.”
“Wait here. I will not be long.” Bleddyn opened the door and disappeared inside.
I leaned against the wall, fighting off another bout of dizziness. Thankfully, he was back within a few minutes.
“Here. This will make you feel better,” he said, holding a small vial.
I looked at it with suspicion. “What is it?”
“I will explain when we eat, but for now, please drink.”
My hand trembled as I took the tiny glass bottle. Removing the stopper, I sniffed. A heady scent of honey, thyme, and something I couldn’t identify tickled my nostrils.
At least it smelled tasty. I downed the elixir before I could change my mind. It slipped down my throat like liquid fire, heating my body from within. “Damn, that’s good.”
It really was. But it also made me feel stronger, and the strange lightheadedness that had returned throughout the day vanished.
“Follow me.” Bleddyn strode back onto the main thoroughfare with me in hot pursuit. Despite my disguise, I was wary of losing him again.
We were getting closer to the river. Shops and market stalls were replaced by eateries, some with benches in tiny front yards. Bleddyn stopped outside a house with a sign, “Rooms available.”
The building was large, with an open layout. Families with kids occupied much of the dining area, enjoying drinks and a bite to eat. The room was airy and filled with light from windows along three sides. At the far end was a kitchen door, swinging open and shut as servers entered with more supplies for the ravenous guests. Next to it was a flight of narrow stairs, leading most likely to the guest rooms.
Bleddyn chose a table by a window. Once we were seated, he ordered two dishes I’d never heard of. While we waited, he avoided my gaze, looking thoughtfully at his folded hands, as if mentally practicing what he was going to say to me.
When our meal arrived, it was another bowl of brown stew—unremarkable, except for the strong floral smell.
Sniffing at it, I pushed it away. “You promised you’d explain why everyone here is so skinny. If the food doesn’t sustain you, where do you get your vitamins and minerals from?”
Bleddyn seemed confused for a moment. “I do not know what those are. But yes, our food no longer nourishes us. It comes from dying plants and animals that barely survive.”
He released a deep sigh, the resignation on his face and his hunched shoulders making him look like an old man. “Many hundreds of years ago, the Fae and the human world were part of the same realm, sharing the same sun.
“But when the Fae were no longer able to endure the destruction humans wrought on the world, the king instructed his mages to separate the two realms. And so it happened.”
I listened raptly. I knew nothing about any of it. My dad had never mentioned Fae history.
“The worlds separated, but what nobody realized at the time was that we would lose access to the sun and its life-giving rays. In desperation, our mages created a simulacrum. It gave the illusion of heat and life, but that was not so. Plants barely survived, animals fared no better, and illnesses began to ravish the Fae. Children were weak, their bones not able to support their weight as they grew.”
A world with no sun? That sounded awful. But why hadn’t I seen any evidence of it as we traveled toward Emlyn?
Bleddyn seemed to read my mind. “You have been too long in the human world to pierce the veil. Or maybe somebody used magic on you so you cannot. I can help, but will leave the choice to you whether you want to see the truth.”
I nodded, eager to hear more. Bleddyn’s mouth turned down as if he’d tasted something bitter. His eyes darkened under the onslaught of emotions.
“Faced with the extinction of our people, the mages drew from a powerful source of magic outside of our world. They took humans and used them to feed our need for their life force. In the early days, the humans were released back into their world, unaware of what had happened to them.
“Often, they returned to their villages with everybody they knew dead and long gone. You see, the Fae have the power to speed up or slow down the passage of time between our worlds. We did not want them to warn others. So while the victims only spent days or a few weeks in our realm, in their reality, centuries had passed. But I digress.”
He took a deep breath, as if he had to force himself to continue. “Lately, our rulers have become aware that a new, more powerful energy source has arisen in your world. An explosion imbued many young humans with magic they were ill prepared for.”
That’s what had happened to Amber. I’d first met her after she’d been sent to a government-run facility to help learn control her lightning magic.
“These children are brought to our world against their will and drained of all their power. They give their lives so we can survive, yet the poor barely scrape by. The people you see around you are days away from starvation if the magic dried up. Only the powerful and rich can afford to use more. The soldiers and courtiers are tall and muscular because they are fed by their masters with magic.”
“And you?” I asked quietly. Because Bleddyn was the antithesis of weak and skinny.
His eyes spoke of an internal torture I could barely tolerate. “I am a member of the royal court of King Rhys.”