Crimson Haunts the Soul by Samara Saward

Author:Samara Saward [Saward, Samara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-07-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

The Spring Court is north of Dusk, and though our lands were once connected, the two could not be more different. While this island is all she-oaks and pines, sand and ocean, Spring is fields of wildflowers and petals the size of my face, billowing grasses of emerald green and fluttering butterflies I know to steer clear of.

They may look beautiful on the outside, but like any fae, their image is a trick. They’re deadly when provoked — they consider something as simple as disrupting the air around them as a threat — using the fine powder on their wings to paralyse their targets.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it.” My words are more of a statement than a question. “The flowers are more aromatic than I thought they would be.”

“Where are we supposed to find these flowers?” Nyree groans. It’s not the first time she’s expressed distaste for the Court of Blooms.

I arch an eyebrow. “There is beauty in nature. Do you not enjoy it?”

Ahead, where he walks beside Torin, Vander’s head tilts to the side. It’s clear he’s listening for Nyree’s response, perhaps wondering if she and I will come to verbal blows again. It would be the fifth time this morning if we do, and I cannot blame him for tiring of the bickering.

I’m tired of it, too.

“No,” she says, her tone harsh. “I believe all Spring fae to be glorified gardeners.”

“And their psychic magic?”

“Parlour tricks. Akin to a jester.”

I make sure my thoughts are loud when I think she’s a jerk. She’s only saying such petty things because my mother is a Spring fae.

Before leaving Dusk this morning I made sure we were going nowhere near Spring’s bustling centre, a crystal palace shaped like a spear of foxglove with vines of blossoms creeping up the walls. I feel bad that Wyn’s approaching High Lady Nyana on her own to plead for an alliance in the war, but I’m not ready to stumble upon my birth mother. Not today.

A dense forest emerges in the distance, and the glittering lake to its right brings a kind of unease to my stomach. It’s our destination. The blue mock lotus, the flower we’re searching for, grows along the shores of lakes. There is only one lake in Spring, and it marks the edge of Nyana’s palace. It’s too close for comfort.

Snapdragon flowers grow in abundance in these fields, and I brush my fingers over the petals when I walk past, feeling the silky texture and relishing in the touch of nature. It helps to calm my racing heart and soothe the nerves of being so close to my mother, whoever she may be. I keep my eyes trained on the sparkle of water and don’t let them wander farther east, where the palace shines like a beacon.

We continue heading towards the lake, taking the time to walk around a flight of blue and black butterflies that flutter around a patch of snapdragons. Their peach and pink flowers are gorgeous in the weak light, with beads of morning dew still clinging to the petals.

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