Page 29 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

Something flickers above us. The witch lifts her face to the sky and I follow her gaze. Stars are scattered across the darkness, but as I watch, one flickers and then vanishes.

“What—what just happened?”

“This is why they are so worried,” she says, not looking at me. “The crowns channel the power of our realm, keeping it stable. Alive. Without someone on the throne, this entire place will collapse.”

My heart races. “Then why—” Why bet it all on Lark? Why would Lark run in the first place?

She does look at me now, and sadness colours her smile. “Crowns,” she repeats. “One fae cannot rule alone. Not for long. Of course, no one rules forever, but millennia are better than decades, and fate usually picks a new heir before the old one fades and crosses over.”

“Lark won’t take the crown because he can’t take the throne alone?”

“Most of our kings and queens have been soulbonded,” the witch says, “but you are his soulbond, and you are a witch. The crown would drain you quickly. Days. It would kill you. You cannot sit on the throne with him.”

Disappointment floods me, and now I’m even more confused than I was before. She said it too, that I’m Lark’s soulbond. But if his fate is to sit on the throne, and his fate is to bond with me, how can both be true?

“I don’t… Do you think he’s wrong?”

“About what?”

“About me being his soulbond?”

“I said it too, did I not?”

“But you could—He believes it. That doesn’t make it true.”

“It does not,” the witch says, “but he is not wrong. Of all the princes, Lark has always been the least impulsive. He did not cross over to your realm on a whim. Even if you cannot see it, every decision he makes is calculated. Measured.”

“Like the one where he decided not to tell me about any of this,” I mutter. “Sorry. Has he made up his mind yet?”

“No. I have left the vampire meditating on his power. You should come back inside. Perhaps you will give Lark the clarity he requires.”

I don’t see how. I don’t want to. But I have a list of questions for him too, steps we can take if he doesn’t get his power back. We don’t have much time, and Grant and I know nothing about the fae court.

“Yeah, okay,” I say, and the witch waits for me to fall into step with her before she starts walking.

“I prepared refreshments,” she says out of nowhere as we reach the door. “Of course, I will let Lark and your vampire inspect them, but you should rest and eat. So much lies ahead of you, and you need to be strong for it.”

Strong. I’m not sure that’s a word that’s ever been used to describe me, honestly. I nod, but she stops me with a hand on my arm.

“Whatever happens… I am certain you will endure it. Accept it, even, with time.”

“Endure it?” That doesn’t sound promising. I narrow my eyes. “Are you a seer, too?”

The witch lets out a bark of laughter. “No,” she says. “But I make educated guesses. Come, eat. Then convince your soulbond to ask for his power back.”

I follow her into the cottage. Yeah, fat chance of that happening.

Chapter Eleven

Lark

All my attention narrows on Dante when he walks back into the witch’s cottage. I barely spare her a glance. His eyes are red, his shoulders hunched, and panic creeps up in my throat. Was he crying out there? I thought he was simply angry, but I have hurt him far deeper than that.

Grant sits quietly in the corner, eyes closed. He approached the witch after he came back inside, asking for advice. I heard them speaking in low tones in the other room. His magic is subdued now as he strives to control it. I know he is powerful and, someday, his skill will far surpass even most fae I have met. But for now, he is young, basically untested, and the fae court is not full of beings who should be trifled with.

“Have you come to a decision?” the witch asks. Dante takes a seat at the far end of the sofa and does not look at me. “Time is running short, Your Highness.”

I clench my jaw. I suppose I should accustom myself to the title again. I have run around in circles in my mind, but I see no way out of this that does not leave me sitting on that throne when all is done.