The Shadow Reader by Sandy Williams

stone-reader to be sure.” He takes my right hand— without permission —uncurls my fingers, and presses a semitransparent rock into my palm. He closes my fingers over it. “She told me where it goes.”
    Damn it!
    It was stupid to keep it, but I wanted to remember the night Kyol fissured me to the Sidhe Cabred . Fae can only enter the Ancestors’ Gardens with the king’s permission; humans aren’t allowed to enter at all. The Sidhe Cabred is the closest thing to holy ground in the Realm, and Kyol . . . he wanted to take me there. Because the gardens are located within the silver walls of Corrist, the Realm’s capital, the only way to get me past the heavily guarded entrance was to use a Sidhe Tol , a special type of gate that allows fae to fissure into areas protected by silver.
    It doesn’t hurt fae to come into contact with silver; it simply prohibits them from fissuring wherever the hell they want. The homes of the rich are protected by the metal. So are prisons, military installations, and any place that holds something of value. The Realm’s kings have kept the locations of the few Sidhe Tol they’ve found a secret, but since Kyol is Atroth’s sword-master, he knows where they are. He fissured me through one to get me inside the gardens.
    I don’t know if any place on Earth can compete with the beauty of the Sidhe Cabred . As Kyol led me down its seldomtrod paths, I felt like I was walking through a paradise, some cross between a rain forest and the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. Maybe it’s because even without magic sculpting the vegetation, all the trees and plants and flowers were exotic to me. A river cut through the center of the gardens before it crashed over a steep, rocky cliff into a clear pool at the base of Corrist’s northern wall. It’s there where Kyol led me, there where we almost . . .
    But we didn’t. Again, I was completely willing, and Kyol was so close to breaking, but he held himself back. It wasn’t a surprise. I was used to not crossing that line, used to being satisfied with kisses that stole my breath and edarratae that electrified my skin.
    Beside me, Aren reaches up. With two fingers along my jaw, he turns my face toward him. “You’ve been through a Sidhe Tol , McKenzie.”
    The evidence is fisted in my hand. I can’t deny it.
    “I was blindfolded,” I say.
    “I don’t believe you.” He doesn’t remove his hand from my jaw. Instead, he slides it back until his fingers weave through my hair, until his thumb slides over my cheek. “If you tell me where it is, I’ll let you go.”
    His touch is too intimate. Edarratae flow into me, spiking down my neck and into my chest. I swallow and clench my teeth, trying my damnedest not to enjoy the sensation. I make the mistake of looking into his eyes. He doesn’t look like a killer. The way his hand cradles my head makes me feel safe. I feel like I can trust him. I feel like he . . .
    Son of a—
    I shove Sosch into his lap and stand. “That won’t work.”
    He keeps the seduction charade up another moment before flecks of silver glitter in his eyes. He sets Sosch on the table. “You can’t blame me for trying, can you?”
    “I can. I do.”
    He laughs. “Of course you do. I meant what I said, though. Your freedom for the Sidhe Tol . A fair exchange, I think, but the offer won’t last long.”
    “Your offers aren’t worth shit anyway.”
    The light leaves his eyes. “You really do hate me, don’t you?”
    “Yes!” I turn away, searching for Kelia in hopes that she’s finished sparring with Naito so we can resume my language lessons. Neither of them is in the clearing, though. They must have taken my unspoken advice and found a room.
    “Do you not doubt the Court at all?” Aren asks.
    I turn back to him and snap, “Not since Brykeld.”
    He flinches as if I’ve just taken a swing at him. He recovers quickly, though, steeling his expression. “Brykeld was—”
    “An accident?” I demand.
    He slowly stands.