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“I’d like to talk to you.”
He sent me a disinterested look. “I don’t have time.”
Fury bit at me. He would make time. “I’ve already sent a message to the hybrid queen, informing her of the creatures that attacked this camp. She knows Demos was seriously injured. She also knows Tibris was injured before we arrived. She knows those winged creatures are likely to return to this camp.”
He crossed his arms. “You have been busy.”
I attempted Madinia’s best withering look, combining it with the cool tone Prisca used so well.
“I have. I also received a message from her. They are going to attempt to take down the barrier.”
Herne’s eyes widened. His mouth opened, and for a long moment, it seemed as if he’d lost the ability to speak. I enjoyed it.
“Impossible.”
“No. Not for Prisca. The hybrid queen is my best friend. I know how she thinks. And right now, she’s thinking that all you’ve done is put her family in danger. She’s thinking you’re too stubborn to see reason. And she’s thinking that she doesn’t have time or resources to convince you otherwise.
“Prisca is a clever woman. She’s also patient—when she sees the benefit of such patience. But that patience is not infinite. There is only one thing she holds more highly than the lives of innocents. And that is the lives of her family. Both have been threatened under your watch.”
Herne swallowed. “What exactly are you saying?”
“I’m saying we will leave. The moment she tells us to, we will leave you here. Demos would have dragged Tibris out of here already if he hadn’t been injured. We are of more use on the front lines, where we can actually help make a difference. And when those creatures come back to kill your people, you’ll ask yourself if things might have been different if you’d cooperated with us.” I angled my head, sweeping him with the disdainful scowl I’d almost perfected. “The answer, by the way, is yes.”
* * *
Daharak Rostamir was a small woman with a reputation almost as large as her ego. When I searched her face for any hint of the seer’s features, I found none, except for their eyes. The seer’s eyes were just as dark and fathomless as her daughter’s.
I recognized the man at her side. He was the same man who’d been with her the day we’d met. Daharak gave him a nod, and he cast me one warning look before striding away.
I stepped onto Daharak’s ship with Lorian, Madinia, and Rythos, while the others waited on our own ship.
Daharak nodded to the others. She angled her head as her gaze met mine, her long, dark braid swinging with the movement. “You came.”
I held up my hand, displaying the thin line of our blood vow.
She laughed. “If you’d wanted to drag this out, you could have waited a while. Could have insisted to yourself that you were planning to fulfill the vow—buying yourself a little more time.”
“If only I’d thought of that.”
She grinned at me. My mouth trembled, and I gave in, grinning back. Fulfilling this blood vow couldn’t come at a more inconvenient time, but a deal was a deal. And despite myself, I liked Daharak Rostamir.
“Regner has recently become much more determined to kill me. Almost as determined as he is to kill you.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but I find it more than a little…flattering. Do you think it’s his idea of flirting?”
I chuckled, imagining the ruthless human king flirting. “I don’t think so.”
“That’s a shame.” All amusement left her face, and she jerked her head, gesturing for me to follow her into her cabin.
Lorian tensed, and she lifted her chin. “This is a conversation for just us girls.”
I glanced at him. “It’s fine.” Lorian gave her a warning look and stepped away to talk to Rythos.
Daharak’s cabin exuded a rugged warmth, and I couldn’t help but stare at the eclectic assortment of treasures crammed into shelves, strewn across tables, and tucked into corners. Strange instruments, rolled scrolls, painted masks, an ornate dagger, an alabaster skull, and a sealed bottle decorated with precious gems.
A mahogany desk occupied most of one side of the cabin, its surface littered with maps and ledgers. The lingering traces of foreign spices and spiced rum mingled with salt-soaked wood, giving the cabin a rich, exotic scent.
“Looked your fill?”
“No,” I said. “I’d need a few hours for that.”
