A Veil of Dusk and Deceit (The Veiled Realm Book 4) by Analeigh Ford

Author:Analeigh Ford [Ford, Analeigh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-03-25T18:30:00+00:00

13

DELPHINE

This time, Seren had us meet in a different training room.

Upon further inspection, it was, in fact, not a training room at all—but rather, some kind of temple. A place of worship. That didn’t mean it didn’t bear the scars of others who had used it for the same purpose we did now.

I’d never known the fae to live in fear of gods. Once the fae came to humans, we mostly gave up our fear of them, too … choosing instead to fear the fae. The fae, at least, were real.

But the Sand Court temple didn’t appear to be dedicated to any one god, or to any gods at all, for that matter. There were no scriptures carved into the wall, no holy books, no towering statues depicting righteous anger or pious prayer. There was no altar, no priest, no pulpit to preach from.

My path leading up to the temple had been guided by the shifting, slithering sand. It had grown thicker, drawn as I was towards the temple’s power, but that sand that infiltrated and swirled around the rest of the court didn’t seem to dare venture inside, the same way it seemed to repel from me once its curiosity had been satisfied. It crept close, swirled and built around my steps, but never actually touched me.

It scattered at the door to the temple, swirling off to build in drifts like snow along the edges of the hall, growing thick enough to track the footsteps of all those who visited here.

What the temple lacked in religious relics, it more than made up for in weaponry.

It was, in a way, a temple of sand and swords, more like the many weapon-clad war rooms than anything else.

Seren stood at the front of the temple, his back to me as he looked up at the greatest of all the stained-glass windows. They were magnificent, all of them, works of art so intricately formed from glass and metal that they rivaled even the finest of human paintings.

“The Sand Court has long been known for their prowess in battle, even more than the Mountain Court,” he said, as soon as the sound of my footsteps echoed toward him. “I’m surprised, actually, that Armene hasn’t offered to teach you anything. I can teach you about your power, but the glamour isn’t everything.”

He stopped then, to run his hand along the edge of a dagger. Though his finger barely grazed it, I saw the thin line of crimson sprout from his starlight-white skin. He lifted it up to admire, and for a moment, I tasted iron on my tongue.

Not from the taste of my own blood, but the memory of his.

Heat flooded through me, unbidden, as Seren’s eyes finally lifted to meet mine.

“And in the days to come, who knows what would be more likely to save you. Glamour, or the sword?”

My throat was dry, and not because of the remnants of the faerie wine. Caldamir’s packet had worked its magic.

The tightness that now constricted my throat and lungs had much more to do with the way Seren looked now, standing before me.

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