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He seemed torn between relief and murderous ambitions. ‘And the consul in question?’
‘Got satisfactorily slapped in the face,’ I said dryly and stepped out of his embrace. ‘Speaking of which, I need you to meet someone. Rosalind?’
She turned from where she’d stood looking out over the sea some twenty feet away – quite possibly the only human present who had not been staring at Creon and me. An unexpectedly mischievous smile rose on her face as she came walking towards us. I was granted maybe five seconds to wonder what in the world she was so amused about – and then Creon froze beside me.
‘Wait.’ His voice suddenly had a decided urgency about it. ‘Wait –youagain?’
‘What?’ I said.
‘Good morning, Your Highness.’ My mother switched effortlessly to fluent Faerie. ‘Been a while, hasn’t it?’
He stared at her for another stupefied moment, then blinked at me, blinked back at her, and let out the sort of curse I was rather sure no dictionary would ever include.
‘Oh, gods,’ I said, slowly catching on. ‘You’ve met before? At the Crimson Court?’
‘His lordship very kindly didn’t kill me,’ Rosalind said, biting down a grin that told me she was rather enjoying the dramatics of the moment. ‘Which was a surprise, really, given that I was making an obvious attempt to escape the island. I’ve wondered about that for the past twenty years.’
‘Twenty-two,’ Creon muttered, closing his eyes. ‘Which I suppose means—’
‘Oh, yes,’ she dryly said. ‘It does.’
I glanced back and forth between them, gaping, suddenly feeling infuriatingly young. Knowing Creon had an advantage of three centuries on me was one thing. Knowing that meeting my pregnant mother was still a recent event to his mind wassomehow something else entirely, and by the pained look on his face, he rather agreed with me on that.
‘Should probably have connected the dots,’ he murmured, shaking his head. ‘Then again …’
‘You looked like you had more important things on your mind at the time,’ Rosalind said, head tilting ever so slightly in innocent but razor-sharp curiosity. ‘Which I have also wondered about – but I presume those were the effects of demon powers and torture, rather than an unfortunate flu?’
Good gods. That look of shock on her face, the moment I’d told Halbert the truth about Creon’s silent murders – how many questions had been answered for her in that moment?
Creon did not even bother to respond – just glanced at me with a slightly frenzied look that said,I suddenly understand exactly how you came to be the person you are, and gods help me, now there are two of you.
‘Do you happen to know where Agenor is?’ I said, grinning back at him.
Rosalind’s smile stiffened. I pretended not to notice.
‘In the camp we set up a few miles to the west,’ Creon said, his expression similarly devoid of all curiosity, even though I knew his sideways glance must have led to the same observation. ‘Tared had the rather bright idea to recruit the humans waiting here, if you recall. Children and their mothers are in the Underground; the others are in the camp. We thought the city might get nervous if we settled an army right outside the walls.’
Rosalind’s chuckle was almost convincing. ‘Wise, yes.’
‘Did you just call one of Tared’s ideasbright?’ I said, squinting.
He sent me a wry grin. ‘Don’t tell him.’
‘Can’t make any promises,’ I said and jumped back to avoid the swat of his wing. ‘I’ll find an alf to fade us there, then. Can I leave this army to the rest of you? You might want to find Delwin and discuss matters with him – he’s sensible.’
Creon shrugged, a hint of a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. ‘We’ll be fine. I’m pretty sure I’ve survived less manageable humans.’
‘Halfhuman, thank you very much,’ I said indignantly, and he chuckled and ruffled my hair before sauntering back to the alves he’d been keeping company before. I expected some remark from Rosalind as he moved out of hearing distance, but she was silent beside me – suspiciously so, really, given that there was plenty of material to remark upon.
I turned to her. She bravely attempted a smile, looking not unlike a convict about to face the gallows.
‘Shall we find an alf, then?’ I said firmly.
‘Probably best if we do,’ she admitted, rubbing her eyes. ‘Before I run.’
I snorted and grabbed her wrist, dragging her along to the first blond head passing by. The alf – one of Valdora’s people, I thought – greeted me cheerfully and eyed Rosalind with obvious curiosity, but did not ask questions when I told him we’d like to be faded to the newly formed army camp.
The journey was so short the world hardly had time to blur around us. Within a heartbeat, the white city walls had dissolved and moved over for a rugged stretch of grass covered in large and small tents, set up in a meticulous grid of the type I imagined my father would prefer. Fae and humans were carrying baskets of food around; between the tents, I noticed other small groups of humans sharpening swords and mending clothes.
