A Court of Bastards [ACOTAR]

Chapter 23

Mist lay heavy over the autumn forest. Crisp golden leaves fell from their branches and disappeared within the mist as it crept from trunk to trunk. The trees were tall and thin, their branches growing sparser by the moment as the cascade of golds and reds and browns rushed to the ground. The sky was blue but felt worlds away, obscured by the shower of leaves and the towering canopy.

Fiona couldn't remember how she had escaped the Forest House, or which direction she had taken, but as her bare feet tread bracken and earth any questions left her mind. At that moment in time she was simply a fae walking her territory, awestruck in the presence of nature and magic, humming in the earth, entwined.

A breeze announced itself through the rustling of the leaves above, clearing a trail through the mist. Fiona followed its path, hearing the whisper of the wind all around. It was speaking to her, weaving a tale that moved too quickly for her to follow - though she did try, bounding through the forest as though the voice always lay just one step ahead.

After a while the voice quietened, its echoes fading into the mist. When she could no longer make it out, she stopped and looked around. Without noticing, Fiona appeared to have wandered into a darker part of the woods - the bark on the trees was an odd, sickly grey colour, and their branches twisted into a thick canopy that blocked out the light.

All at once her pulse guttered as a different whisper sounded from behind her - the whisper of leaves against shuffling feet. She wanted to move, to turn around and confront the stranger in the woods. But Fiona looked down to watch in horror as her bare foot morphed into oak, taking root in the soil and locking her in place.

Twisting desperately in place, she tried to spy the approaching figure. But he was in her blind spot, just out of sight - and as the sound of rustling leaves grew louder and louder, so too did his breathing. The sing of steel against steel rang through the forest air, and the figure began to laugh as she squirmed.

Somewhere far off at the edge of the tree line, a woman began to scream. When the stranger finally stepped in front, Fiona was confronted by a thin, wicked smile and a pair of black eyes so wide they engulfed her vision.

It was a moment before she realised that the screaming lady was her.

The sound cut off abruptly as she opened her eyes, blinking in the dark of her bedroom. She lay panting for a moment on her sweat-soaked sheets, waiting for the shadows to recede around her. It was early, though dawn could not be far off; in the distance she heard the whinney of horses and the crack of a whip.

Fiona sniffed once and swung her legs over the side of the bed. There would be no sleep for her now.

*

Fiona reported for duty in the kitchens promptly at six o'clock. The cook - that same plump fae who had shooed her so rudely the day before - seemed surprised to see her at all, let alone on time. Although, she didn't give much indication of satisfaction other than a small grunt.

A blast of warm air encompassed them both as they passed the threshold, the sound of clanging pans and the hiss of steam swallowing up the air until the space felt close, and cramped. But Fiona didn't mind. It made a nice change from arched ceilings and empty hallways that she'd grown used to for company.

The cook cleared her throat and called across the room -

"Scilla!"