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‘I promise I’m not dying,’ I said once everyone had sat down, speaking to Naxi as much as to Lyn. ‘I’ll just see how far I get, alright? Worst-case scenario, I don’t figure it out today, and then I’ll just try again later. But doing nothing for half a day when the Mother might attack another island tomorrow …’
The smile abruptly dissolved from Naxi’s face, and Lyn’s muffled curse told me I’d won that argument. Next to me, ignoring the conversation entirely, Creon licked a drop of pomegranate sauce from his thumb, and my lower body erupted in a flurry of sparks even as I tore my gaze away from that unfairly enticing sight.
Hell, it really was about time we had this quest behind us. If I had to pretend for another week I was not madly, senselessly in love with him, I might spontaneously combust.
As if she’d heard that thought, a slim nymph with arms covered in silvery scales darted into the clearing at that moment, announcing that the first of Her Majesty’s prisoners was ready to be delivered.
Chapter 27
Theemaciatedfaemalewas dragged into the forest clearing in bonds of prickly greenbrier vines, held by four nymphs as if he was an unbroken horse to be restrained.
He did look broken, though.
If not for his guardians tugging him forward, I suspected he’d have collapsed onto the forest floor miles ago. His clothes hung in tatters around his body, and the skin below was drawn tight over his bones, the gauntness of the last days before death by starvation. Red welts marred his limbs, some of them superficial chafe, others deep enough to draw blood. His red hair was matted and hung to his shoulders in dishevelled clumps, and his wings were pale and cracked and tight with the effort of standing.
He crashed to his knees the moment the nymphs halted before us, air shrieking through his throat as he attempted to gather his breath.
‘The prisoner you asked for, Vedra,’ a red-eyed nymph proclaimed.
I stared at the wretched mess at my feet and considered changing my mind, taking Lyn’s advice after all, and fleeing back into my hut for the next five days.Wolves against wolves.The others could handle this. Not me, the little lamb who had somehow gotten caught up in their predator games.
Then I remembered I’d put myself in the middle of those games, that I had claimed these powers despite all of Zera’s warnings, and forced the gall back down my throat. Raising my chin ever so slightly, I said, ‘Would you untie him, please?’
They blinked but went to work without questions. The vines slithered loose under their hands, pulling away from the motionless captive. Next to me, Lyn and Tared didn’t move, watching our delivery with tight lips and cold eyes. Naxi looked like a young girl who’d just gotten a new puppy. Creon’s left hand lay on his thigh – or rather on the black trousers covering that thigh – ready to intervene if there was any lust for fighting left in our unlucky prisoner.
‘Thank you,’ I said as the nymphs stepped back, squeezing every bit of politeness I could find within me into my voice. ‘We’ll manage from here. I’ll let you know when I’m done.’
With a few quick nods, they vanished between the trees. Others would still be watching us from the shrubbery, I supposed, but this way at least I didn’t need to worry about good courtly manners towards Helenka’s envoys. The fae male before me didn’t move, forehead pressed into the moss as if we’d all vanish if he wished for oblivion hard enough.
‘Well,’ Tared said, wry voice unperturbed as usual despite the chill in his grey eyes, ‘there’s not much left to ruin here.’
The prisoner rolled over at that, dull, half-lidded eyes trailing from me to Creon by my side. A spark of recognition flickered in his gaze – a relief I rarely saw in anyone laying eyes on the Silent Death.
‘Please.’ The word was barely audible, a ragged whisper. ‘Hytherion – end this –please.’
Creon didn’t move, watching him with the unimpressed calm of a man studying a fly trying to climb out of his beer. Lyn was chewing on a red curl, fists clenched tight. Tared breathed a curse but didn’t say another word.
Waiting for me, all of them.
Fuck. I couldn’t do this. Iorgas’s warriors had at least been true opponents, charging at us with the arrogance of fighters used to easy victories. This broken shell of a soul, already halfway to hell and pleading with us to help him over the last leg … How was I supposed to reduce him to evenless?
‘Oh, if you insist,’ Naxi said impatiently, rolling her eyes at me before scowling at the crumpled fae male. He went slack in a heartbeat, eyes glazing over. ‘There. He’ll be out for a while. And before you start feeling sorry for him, he got here by attempting to chop down our trees and sell them for his own gain. He knew what he was in for.’
I blinked as I cautiously stepped closer. The tree thief didn’t move. ‘How do you know?’
‘It’s the only crime for which we’re currently allowed to lock fae in the prisons,’ she said, flopping down onto the moss in a flutter of pink skirts. ‘The new ambassador agreed they’re effectively stealing from the Mother, too, since those tree murders get in the way of the tribute harvest.’
The new ambassador – who had presumably gained that title after Creon killed the previous one. So much damn history on this small island alone. ‘And what exactly did you do to him to knock him out?’
‘Oh, bogged down his nervous system.’ She beamed at me. ‘That usually shuts them down for a bit. Remind me to teach you that trick, Creon. Anything else, or can we get to work?’
I sank to my knees beside the motionless body and studied the thief’s face. He did not look like he was in pain right now. That, I supposed, was as good as I was going to get.
‘I’ll try,’ I said quietly.
She clapped her hands like an eager toddler. ‘Exciting!’
I wished I felt even a sliver of that enthusiasm as I reached out to the poor male’s face and hesitated inches away from his gaunt cheeks. Perhaps I should have warned my audience in plainer terms that I had not the faintest idea what I was doing. Mind and magic, Zera had said, but by way of instruction, that was vague to the point of uselessness.
