Malice by Heather Walter (young adult books to read .txt) 📕

maids won’t find it. Its pages are in terrible condition. Whisper-thin and cracking at the edges. My head aches with the effort of squinting at the faded, cramped ink.

Some of the pre-Briarian history I already know. Since before Briar’s founding, the light Fae have occupied all the lands beyond the Etherian Mountains border. Most of the Fae world is a mystery to Briar. Endlewild, the Graces, and the Briar crown itself are our only connections. But we do know that there are seven Fae courts of Etheria—the Lesser Courts and the High Court, where the High King Oryn rules. He is the most powerful Fae in existence. It’s said his light magic pours from the High Court into the others, pulsing like a second heartbeat and giving life to nymphs and sprites and winged Fae steeds. Wood harvested from Fae birch groves can be crafted into bows that never miss a shot. Sand from the shores of their lakes can be blown into enchanted glass that lets the viewer see into other worlds.

And just as the humans thirsted for that power and sailed across the Carthegean Sea to claim it, darkness was attracted to the magic of the Fae. Long before Leythana arrived on her dragon ships, Demons and Shifters and other such creatures stalked the borders of Etheria, believing that if they could consume the blood of an Etherian, they could harness the light Fae power. Oryn and his courts were diligent in crafting defenses to keep such creatures out of their realm. But eventually a Demon succeeded in tricking an Etherian, luring her away from her court with the distressed calls of her kin.

When the Fae female drew close enough, the Demon pounced, sinking his teeth into her tender flesh and feasting on her golden blood. But the Demon did not absorb her power as it thought it would. And the Fae was strong. Using her staff, she slew the creature and tossed its carcass out of Etheria as a warning to others. But not before the damage was done. Evil had bitten into her soul. Soured her magic.

She had become the first Vila.

As her wounds festered, the Fae’s power began to change. Her gilded blood turned the color of hemlock. Her hands and feet grew claws. Her skin, once polished and smooth like a silver birch, began to peel and rust. Tiny bones, like thorns, sprouted from the tips of her shoulders, along the ledge of her collarbone, and across her forehead like a crown. In her new form, the Vila’s footsteps scorched holes in Etherian lands. Ambrosia groves wilted and died beneath her fingertips, the fruit crawling with maggots. Rivers were poisoned when she tried to scrub herself clean, fish and sprites and water nymphs floating as shriveled husks when she emerged. Horrified at what she had become, the despairing Vila hid at the edge of the Fae realm, allowing no one to touch her for fear her darkness would spread.

It did anyway.

Soon her dark power consumed the Vila. It seeped into the land she inhabited, a place dubbed Malterre for its barren trees and silty earth that hummed with evil and stank of carrion. The Vila’s heart hardened. She grew resentful of the light Fae she once loved, believing that they had forgotten her. And she discovered that her Vila magic was far more powerful than that of her kin. Powerful enough to make them regret what they had done.

Bent on revenge, the Vila snuck into the Etherian courts in the dead of night, luring males into her lands and using her magic to compel them to mate with her. Before long, she produced a brood of cursed Fae just like her. With each new Vila offspring, their power grew, bleeding out and decimating the Etherian lands.

It was no surprise when, centuries later, the tension between the two races erupted in a war. Formidable as they are, the Etherians were no match for the dark magic of their fallen kin. They couldn’t even set foot in Malterre, where the toxicity thrummed beneath the ground and leached into their bones and stopped their bright hearts.

The light Fae turned to their only ally: Briar. It was well known that humans could venture into Malterre without the consequences endured by the Fae. They’d done so since before Briar existed. With the help of the Etherians, the mortals could poison the Vila lands, driving out the malevolent creatures and all other abominations for good.

But the time of the warrior queens had long ended. And the reigning Briar King was greedy. He knew that Leythana’s alliance agreement stipulated only that the ruler of Briar must protect the Fae border against mortal attacks. It said nothing about Vila. And so in exchange for his army, the Briar King bid his wife demand the most precious gold of all: the power of the light Fae.

The bargain the High King Oryn struck created the Graces. And I understand now why Hilde believes it to be a Fae trick. When negotiating the bargain, the Briar King was clumsy with his words. He probably thought he would get to choose the form of the Etherians’ gift, such as his own immortality or access to Etherian lands or some other prize. Instead, Briar received the Graces. Random children who, though they carry the gilded Etherian blood, can only access its power by draining it.

I trace my fingertips along some of the illustrations in the book. Vila. Tall, lanky things with tips of bone jutting at all angles. This one is described as female. Bone spikes protrude from her knuckles and cheekbones. Like the light Fae, her skin appears as tree bark. She could be cut from the trunk of a yew, with wide, almond-shaped eyes that gleam emerald, just like her blood.

But the only mention of the curse cast by the Vila during the war is the ruin it wreaked on Leythana’s line. The rampant, swift deaths of the potential heirs and the struggle to contain