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“I know you must think my mother cruel. And she is. But she is nothing compared to her sister. Sefi changed her mind after Perl was named and demanded Perl was given to her when he was but a babe. Vane had come as the messenger to make this demand. Exeinil refused and instead took Vane hostage. She used dark magic to bind him to her and the Ice Palace. Vane is the only thing Sefi cares about. That is why he is here. As Exeinil holds Vane, Sefi cannot use her power to make the Ice Court obey the commands of the Timeless Court, despite their great power. Because Sefi will not risk Vane’s life.”

“Vane was bound here when Perl was born, so he’s been here over two hundred years.”

Diamanda shrugs. “I suppose. Time is slippery.”

“Vane hates Perl for it?”

“He may do. Most of the time, I believe Vane is simply bored. He is used to a very different life. Oria, they say, is a dark place, wild and devoted to pleasures. Vane cannot even leave the palace. Although none of us can without risk. Sefi’s fae raiders surround us. None of us can take to the skies. It has been this way for as long as many can remember.”

“And all because of Perl.”

“Perhaps,” Diamanda says. She tosses her head, snow white curls dance in the frozen air. “But truly that was so long ago. Now, it is about more than Perl. Exeinil got a taste for being a ruler in her own right. She keeps Vane here to protect her power. Many of the fae of Ulla blame Perl, and think Exeinil should have given him up to Sefi, but many more think she simply took her chance to snatch Vane and take control of the ice Court.”

“But, then, who is Perl’s father? What happened to him?”

Diamanda stands up. “I cannot be here longer. I am only meant to offer you the spice wine. But you should ask Perl. You ought to understand how difficult it is for him to be here. Why he left and why he should never have returned.”

Kerik looks at the spicewine again. He had forgotten it. It is no longer steaming. It has grown cool in the ice.

Diamanda takes up the tray and leaves. Kerik’s head swims. He cannot think straight. In this cold, he cannot process what he has been told. He cannot even find the will to think of warm things to soothe himself.

All Kerik can do is curl into a ball in the corner of the ice cell. He cannot stand this any longer. He cannot take another test if they are to be like this. Surely the pit can be no worse.

But he thinks of what Diamanda said. Perl is in danger if he fails these tests. Perl needs to prove he can Master Kerik. Not only because he needs to make the Ice Court forget his perversions with Seridil, but also because those perversions were seen as a sign of a deeper rot within him.

A rot that meant the Queen of the Timeless Court insisted he be named Shame. And demanded he be given to her because he was so tainted. And because of him, Vane is bound to Vylenor. Stuck here. A prisoner. And all of the Ice Court are trapped in this palace. All because of Perl.

And despite all of this, Perl came back here. Came back to retrieve a sword that he believes is needed to defeat this demon. And whether Perl’s stories are true or not, Kerik does not doubt that Perl believes them. He is truly brave to return to this place. Vane told him that the fae did not send the princes to defeat the Bellator. That most faeries believe that mortals are traitors who deserve their fate at the hands of demons. Perl is risking so much. If it were discovered what he was doing, surely, they would kill him for it.

The door to the cell opens again. Kerik looks up from his curled position in the corner. And this time, at last, it is Perl who stands there.

Perl races to him. “Kerik,” he says, wrapping his arms around Kerik’s body. “Kerik, the test is over. Let me warm you.”

Kerik cannot think. The warmth of Perl’s body is sweeter than anything he has ever felt.

But the test is not over. There were meant to be some specific words. “Then say the words you said you would say, Master,” he says. His voice is thick.

Perl kisses Kerik’s head. “Words? What words Oh my love, you are delirious.’

My love? Kerik blinks at Perl. “What are you doing?” he says. Perl calling him ‘my love’, kissing him. Either this is not Perl or it is Perl trying to tell him something is wrong. “This is not you.”

“Not me?” Perl says, “why would you say that? Let me warm you with my body. Let me make love to you now.”

Kerik almost laughs. This is not Perl. “No,” he says. “No. I do not want it. I obey my Master.”

Perl looks at Kerik in confusion. “But I am your Master.”

“No,” Kerik says, his weak voice as loud as he can make it. “Stop trying to fool me. I will not betray my Master.” He tries to spit at this fae, but his mouth is so dry and cold. “You’re not even him are you? This is a trick.”

“Is that what you think this is?”

And Kerik feels it then. Magic. Something that has to be magic uncurls inside his body like a tiny piece of heat. Like an ember from a fire has lit in his belly. It feels so good. The heat grows. Reaching out. Warming him. The most delicious feeling he has felt.

This is magic, but more than that, this is his own magic. The kind of magic he had thought he might be able to unlock by thinking warm thoughts.

“Perl?” he says.

“Oh, my sweet obedient thrall. Would you like me to make love to you?”