Farron
Everything about the Below makes my hair stand on end, and Caspian’s creepy sister’s room is no different. Though, there is
something fascinating about breaking into the Nightingale’s private chambers. Besides the table filled with potions and half-
finished concoctions, every other nook and cranny is filled with trinkets. Most are from the surface realms, though there are
some oddities from the human world too.
She displays even the simplest objects as if they’re priceless treasures. I pick up a fork engraved with a human sigil, which
she had placed on a mirrored tray.
“She’s particularly fond of that one.” Caspian looks over at me. “Brought that to her for her tenth birthday. She used to brush
her doll’s hair with it.”
“Curious,” I say, placing it back down and looking at a music box overflowing with jewels. I can tell by just a glance that
most of them are costume baubles made for children. “You actually care about her, don’t you?”
Caspian is bent over the Nightingale’s potion table, picking up bottles and examining the labels. After a beat, he says, “She’s
my sister.”
She’s also a crazy psychopath who’s loyal to the fae who took over Dayton’s realm. But I bite my tongue and cross the room
to Caspian. He still doesn’t look up, but says, “She has nobody else.”
As much as I love arguing with Caspian, I stay silent. My thoughts drift to my own sister and the turmoil in the Summer
Realm. Dayton will make sure she’s safe.
“So, should we be worried about the Nightingale wielding the Green Flame, too?” I ask.
“No, she’s not my biological sister.” He straightens, holding a bottle with a vibrant orange liquid inside. “This will be
perfect.”
“What will this do again?”
Caspian pops the cork. “Smell it.”
I inhale a blend of citrusy tanginess and sweet floral undertones, reminiscent of freshly picked oranges kissed by the sun.
“This will really help us?”
“Yes.” Caspian shoves the lid back in the bottle and tucks it in his bag. “We’ll mix this into the drinks, and everyone will be
temporarily adrift in beautiful ecstasy. Trust me, a party is the perfect distraction. Everyone will just assume I’ve gone off to
fuck someone.”
“You’ll be with me.”
Caspian tugs on my belt, drawing me close to him, and says with a sly laugh, “Now, be practical, Farron. We’ll have an
important job to do. There won’t be any time for such base activities.”
I push away from him, turning before he can see the flush rising to my cheeks. “I know what we have to do.” We’ve planned it down to the day, to the hour. In nine days, we’ll sneak into the chamber with the pool and spread the fungal
spores that will hopefully destroy the crystals and cause a chain reaction to break Aurelia free. We’ll have to hope Kel and
George arrive in time and haven’t become lost in the labyrinth.
“How’s your little spell going?” Caspian asks.
I think of the crumpled paper still shoved in my bag, words scratched out and rewritten. “I’ve still got time to work on it.”
Caspian leans on the desk, regarding me with a half-lidded gaze, his dark hair loose. “I could help you, if you’d like.”
Another bitter retort knots in my chest. “I suppose you know a lot about death.”
“Unfortunately. It’s my birthright.”
The light catches in just the right way to see the glimmer of green in his eyes. “How were you born, Cas? Do you know?”
He pushes away from the table and paces the room. “Not all the details, only that my mother has always been obsessed with
power, with retaking the Above and returning to it. But one of her spells went wrong, and it didn’t connect her with the Above.
It connected her with him.”
“The Green Flame.”
“The Green Flame. The Baron. Malekai Furiondemius. A thousand names for a thousand conquered worlds,” Caspian says,
voice biting. “Sira was always jealous of the beautiful things Aurelia created, when her own turned twisted and corrupt. So,
she asked the Baron for a child, one as powerful as it was beautiful.”
“You,” I breathe.
“Me,” Caspian says. “The Baron promised her I would be the answer, that with his flame and her shadows, there would be
no one that could stand against me.”
It’s the truth, I think, though I don’t admit it to Caspian. I’m sure even Keldarion knows there is no power in the Vale that
can rival the man before me.
Or there wasn’t. Not until Rosie arrived.
Another thought strikes me. I’ve hardly ever seen Caspian use the magic of his birthright. It’s the thorns he’s drawn to.
“Sira became pregnant with me,” Caspian continues, “and she continued to commune with the Green Flame. His attention
becomes more and more fixated on this world and the magic of the land. It’s why we must ensure the gateway never opens. If
he makes it to the Vale, Farron, there will be nothing left.”
He does want to protect it; protect a world he can’t even survive in himself. “We will,” I say, meaning it. “We’re going to
stop it and yes, I would like your help with the spell.”
“Good.” Caspian gleams. “And you’re going to need my help getting ready for the party because there’s no way I can bring
you looking like that.”
I can’t help but laugh, running a hand through my hair. “We’ll see about that.”
“Come on,” Caspian says, turning. “We’ve got what we need. We should leave before Birdy returns.”
“Right.” I follow him, but something on the table catches my attention.
The Nightingale has an assortment of strange ingredients strewn across the table of potions: powders, gels, herbs, dewdrops
in a jar. There’s one flower that draws my attention. It shines with a light blue glow. I know this plant, one that goes by many
names. Friar’s Lantern. The Deceiver’s Bloom. The Lonely Lover’s Flower. Rosie found one in the Emberwood, which
confused the will-o’-wisp she held.
“Coming, Farron?” Caspian calls from the entrance of the chamber.
“Right behind you,” I reply and quickly pocket the flower before heading after the Prince of Thorns.