And this is why it is better not to think about these stars-damned things in the first place,he thought bitterly. He slammed his palm down on the book he’d just finished with, eliciting one final, harsh, “Shh!” from somewhere within the library stacks.
Tristan eyed him with a curious arch of his blond eyebrows.
Cedric just shook his head, gathering up the doublet he’d slung over the back of his chair. Then, Tristan following behind, Cedric headed toward the stairs that would lead them out of the library and back on the path home.
3
THOROUGHLY HUMAN
ELYRIA
Kingshelm stunk.
The very air in Havensreach reeked. It smelled like wasted mana, sharp and metallic. It stank of disparity and desperation.
Despite the long hours of travel, the flight from Aerithia had been uneventful, enjoyable even. Although, in fairness, Elyria wondered how much of that was simply due to having been able to relax in the comfort of a carriage, rather than pulling a wing by attempting to fly across both Chasms on her own. It was the general pleasantness of the journey that made the moment they soared over the human capital’s walls, the moment the scents of the city hit Elyria’s sensitive fae nose, all the more stark.
Through the carriage window, her sharp eyesscanned the maze of tightly packed buildings below. Children and adults appeared from behind broken-down doors and poured onto the cobblestone streets. They tilted their faces toward the sun, looks of wonder and apprehension emblazoned upon them in equal measure.
That, she couldn’t blame them for. Surely it wasn’t every day they saw a carriage soaring over the city—nor the pair of ivory-plumed gryphons pulling it.
Yes, based on what she observed below, she imagined there was much the average citizen of Kingshelm didn’t get to see or hear or taste or experience.
Elyria was reminded of the dwarven trader who’d bent her ear one night at The Sweltering Pig. She recalled the way he’d described, well, all of Havensreach, but Kingshelm in particular. The sad state of the homes, the throngs of children running amuck in the streets, begging, stealing.
“Like tarnished silver,”he’d called it.“Once beautiful, now rotting. Rank. Still an exciting place to make a bit o’ coin, to be sure. But beyond repair.”
She’d thought him exaggerating at the time.
He wasn’t.
“This is...bleak,” Kit murmured from beside Elyria, silver-and-gold wings folded back as she peered out the window. Her silvery brows were furrowed, carving twin lines into the dark skin of her forehead.
“I think ‘bleak’ is being rather kind,” said Tenebris Nox, horned head cocked to one side as they observed the scene below with dulled interest. Beside them, Thraigg grunted in agreement.
Elyria refixed her gaze on a particularly run-down section of the city below. Ramshackle buildings, walls and streets covered in grime, streets packed so tightly with people they looked more like a swarm of ants than living, breathing humans.
“What’s that down there?” Elyria asked nobody in particular.
“The Walk,” came Dentarius’ cold, cutting voice. The fae sat opposite Elyria, the sun beaming through the open window highlighting the tight set of his mouth. His piercing ice-blue eyes narrowed on the scene below. “The slums of the city. Where the poor and...undesirable reside, from my understanding.”
“Charming way of putting it,” said Elyria, pursing her lips.
“Ah, you can’t be so shocked, Elle,” said Olyndor Oleander, seated at her other side, blowing a rogue lock of turquoise hair out of his eyes. “You know this is how the humans work.”
Elyria glanced at her friend. The guard had, granted,technicallyalso been her jailer more than once, but now rode on equal footing with Elyria and Kit as part of the delegation. Well, perhaps notequal. She’d had to do quite a bit of cajoling to convince Dentarius and, by extension, the king, to grant Ollie this assignment. Still, it was worth every bit of ass-kissing just for the way her friend’s warm brown eyes had widened, the way his mouth had gone entirely slack when she’d told him the news, so flabbergasted was he that Elyria had recommended him for the job.
“Indeed,” said Dentarius disapprovingly. “They build their little empires, squeeze out every bit of power and labor they can from the people, then discard the rest. Not to mention their proclivity to breed like rabbits, only to then complain about running out of space.”
Ollie sighed. “Too right. Why else would they be clamoring to expand into the Midlands for so long? So much so that they’d risk stupidly continuing to engage with King Lachlandris’ forces?”
Kit clucked her tongue. “Tsk, tsk, you two,” she said, the sound so close to Duchess Laeliana’s classic tone of disapproval that Elyria nearly did a double take. “Didn’t you hear? We’re atpeace.” Kit winked at Elyria. “Time to put that kind of talk away.”
Nox made a humming sound, as if stamping the statement with their approval.
Dentarius smoothed his hair—a green so dark it looked black—against his temple. He sniffed but said nothing. Ollie flushed, making an awkward attempt at an apology, but Kit only waved her hand, dismissing it.
“Come now. I’m only teasing. Far be it from me to assume that two centuries of animus might be resolved within a few months, even if we do have our lovely Lady Victor’s example to lead by.”
