Roan and Tyton join me, Tauron in the dungeon on his shift to guard the witch, and my cousin casts a barrier to ensure no one can listen in, rubbing at his reddened eyes after a long night of his own guard shift.
Fyr has returned from the most dangerous and complicated of my commands, riding to the Western Fyres to negotiate with King Salem, the high-fae ruler there. Traveling through the Goblin Lands is prohibited without the Goblin King’s permission, and it took years for Fyr to reach an agreement of safe passage. He alone is allowed to pass through, and under strict rules, never straying from the path he is authorized to travel.
He takes off his cap and bows his head respectfully as he delivers his news. “King Salem is happy to barter and trade, but we would have to ensure a safe trade route for the goods.”
I let out a breath, but when I shoot Roan a look, I find him grimacing.
A small step forward only to face yet another obstacle. The only viable route is through the Goblin Lands. The overpass that we used in years past was destroyed by the witches, and it could take decades to clear it and build new foundations through the mountains to open it back up.
Both options are impossible.
The very idea of a pipeline through the Goblin Lands is laughable. The regent has yet to send guards there to speak to the Goblin King without losing them.
I nod and thank Fyr. He rode through the night and looks haggard, but he's done a good job. My messengers are just as important to me as my soldiers, and they bunk in the same area. I train them to be able to defend themselves but their greatest assets are their speed and their secrecy—the way that they're able to blend in with the lower fae and part-bloods.
Fyr is Keeper Firna’s only child, both of them mostly high fae, with a human ancestor somewhere in their lineage. Enough that most high fae don’t look twice at Fyr, but it gives him an edge in passing through certain areas. The lower fae are wary of him and don't want to mess with him, thanks to his mostly high fae blood, but the high fae don't take much notice of him because, to them, the human blood makes him a part-blood.
He is the perfect spy for me.
He's also incredibly loyal, paying back my own loyalty to him in spades, and I trust him with even the most sensitive of messages.
I wave Fyr off to find refreshments and get some sleep, but he glances between all of us and says, “There’s more. A group of the regent’s guards was seen crossing into the Outlands, and they ride to Fates Mark.”
Roan curses viciously under his breath, turning away from us all as he runs a hand down his face. Tyton’s eyes glaze over, his magic taking hold of him, but there’s no questioning him about it until his trance is finished, so I focus on Fyr and the problem at hand.
Fyr glances at Roan before he continues, steady and sure. “There are groups of exiled goblins in the area, and more raiding parties of witches along the border. Both followed the guards through the break in patrols. I had to double back and use the fae door to avoid them. I don't know whether they’ll make it to Fates Mark without detection, but for as far as I saw them travel, they moved unimpeded. Prince Roan was reported to be in the Stellar Forest, and many of his soldiers too.”
He's not talking about this Roan, of course, but his father, the family tradition of passing on their name both old and confusing for us all. Fyr continues giving us the facts, and though he’s good at never adding his own speculation, I can add my own well enough. My uncle is committing treason. This is all too convenient for the witches, to be led safely through the icy plains into the most guarded territory of the kingdom with ease.
Thousands of fae folk live in the villages at the base of the mountains, and hundreds more in Fates Mark; if the witches make it there without contest, the devastation will be catastrophic.
I dismiss Fyr with my thanks, and the moment the door is shut I turn to Roan. “I’ll go to Fates Mark with a company of soldiers. We’ll deal with the witches, and the goblins too. If we use the fae door, I can get to the village first and have the situation under control before there's any chance of an attack.”
Roan shakes his head. “You can't. The Unseelie Court is deliberating over whether or not you’re going to be crowned after your wedding, it was all the court could talk about while they were here. You can't afford to play this game with the regent, and he knows it—that's exactly why he’s chosen to do this now. He’ll draw me out and weaken your defenses, then he’ll strike. He knows his hold is tenuous at best and he can’t face you at full force.”
Tyton’s eyes clear as the hold of his magic on his mind eases away. He glances between us. “Tauron and I will go. Roan can stay here, watch your back, and protect Airlie.”
Roan shakes his head. “We can't afford to have both of you go, and neither of you know the area well enough to redistribute the Outland soldiers. Father will argue with you both—he’s too stubborn to accept direction from anyone but Soren and me. I don’t have time to make plans or explain terrain conditions—I need to leave now, or even going by the fae door won’t make up enough time to beat them there.”
I shake my head. “You can't leave Airlie right now.”
The storm that passes over Roan's face is testament to the trust that he has in Tyton and me, the vulnerability he's willing to show because he knows there will be no judgment from either of us.
“I would rather march to my own death than leave her right now, and were it anyone else, I’d let them fight their own battles, but I can’t leave my people to die. Not after what the witches did to my mother—my father would never recover from the failure. Airlie still has a few weeks left, maybe two full months if she goes late like last time. I should be able to get there, stop the attack, place soldiers in the right places to shore up the territory’s defenses, and then return before the baby arrives.”
He holds my gaze, then Tyton’s, his expression showing resolve and the determination of a high-fae prince facing down death. “I trust the three of you to keep her safe and…if the baby comes early, I trust you’ll see her through it safely. I’ll owe you all a life-debt—she's going to hate this.”
I rub a hand over my eyes even as a rueful smile tugs at my lips. “Maybe I’ll go with you just to escape her wrath.”
Roan laughs quietly under his breath, a hollow sound. “You know as well as I do the moment I tell her, she's going to pack my bags for me. She’s stronger and fiercer than any of us. She just hides it well under the pretty dresses and that perfect face of hers.”
She’s had no choice but to be strong, we all have, but this will be a test for us all. One we cannot afford to fail.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Rooke
Tauron and Tyton spend their days taking turns in watching over me, and I notice how quickly they both devolve into boredom-soaked restlessness. I remain unaffected, my mind kept busy as I feed the earth and listen to all it has to say back to me.
