“Why didn’t you just open the veil for her? You have the power to do it.”
“Yes, I do,” he agrees with a sly smile. “But Kymaris didn’t want to come to Faere. She didn’t want to risk her sister finding out. But I crossed over to visit her many times, and we became lovers.”
I try not to grimace because not only is the thought of Pyke and Kymaris having sex just gross, I’ve also never liked the term “lovers”. It seems cheesy.
“Kymaris had her sights set on the Earth realm,” I say, wanting him to get moving with the story.
“Yes, she did. It was a grand plan and one I approved of.”
This was a no-brainer. “Let me guess… she was going to take over the Earth realm, and you would rule at her side.”
Leaning forward just a bit more, Pyke gives me a sly smile. “Sure beats being the prince of a kingdom I’ll never rule.”
“So, you want power?” I ask, my tone scathing with distaste.
“Why is that a bad thing?” he asks neutrally. “But more than power, I just wanted to be by Kymaris’ side.”
I shake my head, giving him a dubious look. “So this is really about love?”
“Tell me love isn’t worth the fight, Finley. Tell me you wouldn’t do anything to be with Carrick. In fact, tell me you’ll forsake Carrick’s love for a good reason, and I’ll let you go right now.”
Pyke doesn’t know our background. He doesn’t know we’ve loved each other for centuries. But he does know we have something together, and I absolutely can’t tell him I’d ever forsake that love.
In that respect, I suppose I understand him just a little bit.
“Did you help Kymaris come to the Earth realm?” I ask, making that the most innocuous question I can muster without giving away that I know anything at all.
Luckily, he’s in a chatty mood. “She came up with the idea to use a changeling as a catalyst to come through the veil and increase her powers. Do you know what a changeling is?”
I hope I look believable as I shake my head, placing a curious look on my face before lifting my spoon and dipping it for another bite.
Pyke proceeds to tell me about the changeling ritual, which provides me no more information than I already knew except that he imbued the daemon that placed the changeling baby with powers so my parents wouldn’t notice him.
“What happened to the baby the daemon took?” I ask, my voice slightly hoarse with a welling of emotion. I pick up the glass of water and take a sip.
Pyke’s smile curves high, and his eyes gleam with pride. “She became a vessel to harness and transform magic.”
Those words strike deep, and I try not to sound affected. “Harness and transform?” I ask dully.
Pyke nods. “I stole my mother’s staff, which has the remnants of the meteor stone that she used to create Faere in it. It still holds tremendous power, and I used it to channel light magic into the vessel. Then Kymaris’ dark priests who came back to the Underworld with stone magic turned it dark.”
My stomach rolls as I get a clearer picture of what Zora went through. That she was force-fed magic, and then something else was done to her to turn it dark.
What did that feel like?
Was it painful?
It was certainly a horrible abuse.
“This… um… vessel,” I ask, coughing again to clear my throat. “She was just a baby, right?”
“Yup,” he says with a careless shrug. “As she grew older, she could take higher doses of magic. I’d sneak Nimeyah’s staff out of the castle, then visit the Underworld at least once a month to pump her up.”
I want to vomit. The few bites of stew sit at the bottom of my throat, threatening to spew out. “And what did this vessel do? Was she like chained up or something?”
“I honestly don’t remember,” Pyke replies vaguely, settling back in his chair. He crosses one leg over the other. “It’s not important, but I can tell you it tormented me because the entire time we were filling the vessel, my beloved Kymaris was in stasis.”
I don’t respond, not able to get the image of Zora perhaps chained in a dungeon like this and being force-fed magic out of my head. As a baby… a young child… a teenager… a young woman. Her life was beyond awful.
“Aren’t you curious what stasis means?” Pyke asks, not in a suspicious way that I didn’t ask, but more like he can’t believe I’m not enjoying his story.
I nod, smile, and pick my spoon back up while he talks. I force the food into my mouth while he tells me all about the things I already know. I nod, ask a few questions… try to appear interested and amazed at his cunning.