“And you’re here committing treason.” I shrug. “I’m pretty sure she won’t let me stab you for it, though.”
“Lorcan, focus.” Praedra snaps her fingers in front of my face. “While Caed was in the Spring Court dungeons, his mark was discovered.”
I cock my head to one side. “Seems like a responsible person would cut his hand off to stop that happening again.”
Excellent. More blood for my cap. It stiffens in anticipation, becoming a stovepipe top hat.
Caed’s fists clench so tightly that the wooden bolt he’s checking snaps in half. “Tempting, but why bother when we could remove the eyes from everyone who saw it?”
Oooh, the Fomorian speaks my language, and that offer is tempting. “Eyeballsarefun.”
“I’m sure they are,” Prae reassures me, shooting Caed alook. “But the problem is that one of the priests saw it. He rode to Siabetha ahead of us, convinced that Caed has poisoned Danu’s Sacred Well to infiltrate the Nicnevin’s Guard and take over Faerie from within.”
I cock my head to one side. “Have you?”
Caed slams his hand down. “For fuck’s sake, Lore. I wastwelvewhen we took the Oath. How is any child supposed to mess with the magic of a Goddess?”
A shivering, skinny little thing he was, too. I still remember how he scrambled away from us all. I was so looking forward to killing him before Kitarni told me I couldn’t. Spoilsport priestess.
“We all know that Danu picked you without outside influence.” Prae lays a hand on her cousin’s arm. “But this priest is determined to use Caed against her. He’s been in the city for weeks.”
Bram shoots me a look. Aww, Danu’s tits, it’s another of those meaningful looks. I try returning it with one of my own, but given the way he flinches, I may have accidentally pulled a scary face instead.
Wait… weeks?
“Jaro’s been missing for weeks!” I put two and two together. “And my puppy, and the sticky prince, and now the púca.”
“Bricriu is missing?” Bram demands.
“Missing for weeks?” Caed asks, incredulous. “What the fuck?”
At the same time, Prae asks, “Sticky prince?”
Bram sighs. “A fortnight isn't that long to most older fae, remember? You may all be young, but after a few centuries, weeks are nothing. As for the sticky prince, my brother’s gift is adhesion. It… earned him a reputation. Our mother once came home to find that Dare stuck all the furniture in the palace to the ceiling in a tantrum.”
“My favourite prince,” I nod. “Didn’t even blink when I was considering killing him. He just stuck my feet to the floor and tried to take my head.”
Bram reels. “You tried tokillmy brother?”
I shrug. “Cressidick considered it. He stuck her dress to the seat of her chair when she took tea with Eero’s court a few centuries ago.” I liked the sticky prince so much I decided to let him live instead. “I brought her a different prince’s head instead.”
And another. Then a different fae named Dare. Then a prince covered in sap. The instructions kept getting more and more specific, and I loved finding ways around them.
Sometimes, even Cressidick has to bow to my genius. She gave up after the fifth random head.
“The point is,” Bram mutters. “Eero has returned to the palace. If Caed and Praedra know something—”
“This priest was planning on informing the other Grand Clerics,” Prae says. “Which means they planned to overthrow the dryad.”
Bram stiffens. “Kitarni never returned from the temple last night.”
Sometimes, a little sensible niggling at the back of my mind starts to irritate me. Almost like a warning.
“Exactly,” Prae presses. “If they remove Kitarni from power…”
“Rose loses the support of the temple.” Bram stands, shoving the bench that I’m sitting on backwards so suddenly that I blink away automatically. “It’s a coup.”
I smile. “Excellent! I do love a bloody slaughter!”
