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I shouldn’t be hoping so soon … but for Creon, it had been mere hours since we’d sat by that fire and talked. Had he actually listened when I’d told him it was his own behaviour that made me so desperate to keep our secrets? If he’d understood and decided to change his own ways at least a little …
I was still pondering the consequences when Beyla appeared out of nowhere in the sprawling garden, one sword in her hand, the other still on her back.
‘Fae seem to be preparing.’ She snapped the words at no one in particular, although they came out vaguely in my direction. ‘If you still want to save our arses, don’t wait too long. Nymphs are in hysterics. We’re on the south side of the island.’
Tared and Creon had jumped up at her first appearance, ready to ask questions. But she was gone before anyone could utter a word, back to the nymphs and their hysterics, leaving nothing but ringing alarm in her wake.
Chapter 22
TheisleofTolyalooked like a dream.
When the blur of Tared’s fading dissolved and the world took clear shape around us again, we stood on a pearly white beach, bordered by a dense forest. Vines hung from the trees like festive garlands, with bright blue and red flowers blooming between the vibrant green. The beach itself was strewn with pastel-coloured shells, glinting at me wherever I looked, and on our other side, the water gently lapped the shore, bright turquoise darkening to a nearly violet indigo where the ocean deepened.
But there, on the horizon, where deep blue sea met the puffy autumn clouds …
I knew those slender vessels, the stilted wooden wings along the hulls, the sunlight reflecting off the bronze plates on the bow. They’d shown up on Cathra twice a year to take our harvests and leave fear and hunger in exchange – fae ships, looming like predators about to strike.
My throat went dry. I could see two of them from this side of the island. Doubtlessly there were more of them around the bends of the narrow beach, half a dozen if we were unlucky.
‘Fuckers,’ Lyn grumbled next to me, scowling at the distant shapes in a way that suggested she’d gladly burn a few cracks into the hulls.
Creon had gone icily still while we hastily grabbed our bags, and there was not a trace of a smile left in his expression as he let go of my arm and turned to Tared.Can you make out the symbol on the sails?
I could barely make out the sails themselves, but Tared shrugged and said, ‘Looks like a sun of sorts.’
Iorgas,Creon spelled, pursing his lips.Always a pleasure.
The name sparked a vague memory. ‘Was he the one who had an unregistered halfblood child and was forced to kill all his children?’
‘The same one,’ Tared said grimly. ‘Don’t suppose he’s gotten any more pleasant over it.’
Creon’s mirthless chuckle spoke volumes, but he turned his back on the fleet without wasting another word on Iorgas and his unlucky offspring. With an absent nod at the forest, he signed,Think it’s better if I don’t show up uninvited.
Lyn muttered a curse but trudged to the woodline and bent over to whisper something to a twisting strand of ivy. A gentle breeze picked up, and the rustling of the foliage grew louder, then swiftly died away in the distance, deeper into the woods.
We didn’t need to wait long.
Without warning, the curtains of tangled vines were swept aside and a small female strode out onto the beach, followed by a cacophony of vehement hisses and anxious squeals from the shrubbery behind her. She was dark-skinned and red-haired, dressed in sparkling chiffon that hid very little of her lithe body from view. Two curved horns rose from the wild cascade of her hair, and her nails curled into dark claws of the same smooth black material – nails that looked more than ready to scratch a few eyes out if we made the mistake of stepping within reach.
Her eyes were an unnerving, pupil-less green, the irises sparkling like minerals. They fixed upon us with searing intensity as she came to a standstill and jutted up her chin, her thin lips curling back to reveal small shark’s teeth.
‘What for the goddess’s sake is this?’ she snapped in fluent Alvish, although with a thick, melodious accent. ‘Decided to speed up our impending death a little, Phiramelyndra? Or is this piece of filth thehelpthat our little demon traitor swore you’d send here to save our hides?’
‘Offended three people in two sentences,’ Tared said, sticking his hands into his pockets with a joyless grin at her. ‘I’m impressed.’
‘And don’t even get me started onyourbloody people, Thorgedson,’ she spat, ignoring his remark entirely. ‘If not for all this senseless shouting about rebellion, none of us would be dying now – could you not have thought of that before this useless attempt to rescue what can’t be rescued?’
He sighed. ‘Helenka …’
‘Andyou.’ She whirled around to Creon, her emerald eyes blazing brighter. ‘Here to see what’ll be yours once you steal that fucking crown? You may have convinced these desperate fools of your noble intentions, but—'
‘Helenka,’ Tared interrupted.
‘He’s not setting a foot on my lands.’ She was trembling from head to toe, but she held Creon’s gaze without flinching and didn’t back down even as the chorus of fearful laments behind her swelled to a shrill pitch – the clearest proof I’d ever seen that fear and cowardice were different things. ‘And neither is his little whore. Get rid of them and Imight—’
‘They might save your people’s lives,’ Tared said sharply. His jaw had clenched at thelittle whore; if I hadn't felt so guilty for lying to him, I would have appreciated the coolness in his voice. ‘Think of them before you burn any bridges. Please.’
Helenka scoffed, tossing her red-golden hair over her thin shoulders. ‘It doesn’t even matter anymore, Thorgedson. Even if they manage to ward off that fleet, the fight will destroy our trees and soil. The island is about to turn into a graveyard regardless. You’re too late. Admit it.’
