The faun seemed to deliberate for a moment before he finally decided that the information was harmless.
“Sage is Rian’s cousin, but they’re more like brothers. I’ve heard the Wild Hunt has calmed down a great deal since Sage joined their ranks,” he added with a laugh and a shake of his shaggy, ram-horned head.
“Why is that?” I pressed, concerned by the idea that the Wild Hunt could become even more volatile now with this particular rider gone.
“Well, he has a gentle heart and a measured temper so everyone loves him, and they listen to him,” explained the faun plainly. “We always joke that if you have bad news to deliver to the riders, it is best to take it to Sage first!”
Wonderful, Riordan muttered in my mind, echoing my growing dread at the picture the faun was painting.
“So why do you want to know so much about him?” asked the faun worriedly.
“He was… taken during the battle,” admitted Riordan. “Not by us exactly, but Rian will still blame us for it.”
“Taken?” the fey repeated, genuinely horrified.
“Would Rian still be open to negotiations if he blamed us forthe loss of his cousin?” I forced myself to ask.
The fey stared at us, his amber eyes flicking back and forth as he tried to read more of the situation while he grew more and more uncomfortable.
“Rian is a reasonable male, as I said, but… only until you hurt his family,” he admitted significantly.
“So he will not wish to negotiate,” Riordan confirmed, but the faun had drawn his furry knees up to hug them against his chest with a withdrawn expression.
“If you hurt Sage, then I suggest you make peace with whatever gods you worship, Vale King, and do it quickly. The wrath of the Wild Hunt will be swift and ruthless.”
I was still reeling from the denouncement from the faun as we flew up the cliffs to the most secluded watchtower that overlooked Ergastiri. Riordan was equally reserved as we landed and walked through the door in the base of the tower. There had been no need to post any guards since Amira was able to craft wards that only allowed the three of us to pass through them.
“Riordan—” I began, finally attempting to break the heavy silence.
“It was confirmation of what we’d already suspected,” he interrupted, like he was reassuring me when I meant to be the one to set his mind at ease.
I wanted to push him to talk about it, but I could tell he wanted to focus wholly on the meeting at hand, so I held my tongue. The gods knew he would need all his wits.
We went up the stairs and down a short hallway to a door at which Riordan knocked politely while I collected the tunics that were folded on an accent table.
The door flew open to reveal a frazzled-looking kelpie whom I recognized as one of Balor’s personal attendants. There were afew enduring imprisonment alongside him in order to care for their king.
Kelpies could not be out of salt water for long, so one of the most challenging aspects of imprisoning them had been refilling tubs of fresh seawater twice a day. And the second most difficult had been keeping them clothed as they much preferred to be nude.
I tossed one of the long tunics in my hands at her torso to cover the female before catching much more than a glimpse of her lithe form. Not that I found her enticing with her greyish-green skin covered in faint scales and swampy growths. Her long dark hair seemed to be strewn with weeds and was always dripping all over the floor.
Not like Amira, I thought suddenly, shocked when the witch popped into my mind, but I did not seem to be able to help myself lately. Riordan was usually the only person who affected me so strongly, and yet I was consumed by Amira at the most inopportune moments. I had to know if her skin was as soft as it looked and whether her hair would flow through my fingers like fine strands of silk. Would she blush as prettily for me as for Riordan?
“You again,” the kelpie seethed, freeing me from my sudden preoccupation, and I noticed Riordan had become engrossed in our bond as well. I realized too late that he could sense the nature of my distraction, so I was sure to keep my eyes away from him.
I refocused on the kelpie whose black lips curled at me as she narrowed green-and-gold reptilian eyes. Each of her movements were quick and angry as she yanked the long shirt over her head. “If our bodies are so offensive, then perhaps you should wear blindfolds,” she sneered.
“You may allow the Vale King to enter, my darling,” called King Balor’s deep and raspy voice from inside.
The glaring female grudgingly backed out of the door to let us enter the common room of the watchtower where Balor hadmade himself quite comfortable. There were coverings over the windows that did not omit the light but muted it so the room was cast in the grey hues of the sky in springtime. The furniture had been pushed to the edges of the room to make room for several enormous tubs of water in which the kelpies lounged.
“You are being held here as a prisoner, Your Majesty. You do not get to decline our presence if we feel inclined to question you,” I reminded King Balor.
No wonder you made no progress if all you do here is antagonize them,Riordan chastised me down the bond.
I do not like him,I responded.
The Kelpie King was sitting in the middle tub with two attendants on either side of him. The male fed him rolls of raw fish and kelp: a delicacy that the kelpies evidently favoured. The female squeezed an enormous sponge over Balor’s shoulders so water trickled over his skin as he levelled his reptilian eyes on me.
