Page 86 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

Perhaps she can. My wards are strong for a fae, but her power outstrips any I have ever known. I sit up a little straighter.

“Why would she not wear a crown?”

Oisin faintly laughs. “What?”

“She is the most powerful fae in this realm. I have felt it. Why would Veles not go to her and ask?”

“I do not…” Oisin looks as lost as I felt earlier, and my stomach sinks. If she has been manipulating us all, then why? The crowns would not drain her power completely, and although fae do not go out of their way to see her, it is only because of how intimidating she is. She clearly does not mind it. Does not mind how powerful she is, and the crowns would only cement that power.

I can understand a person not wishing to sit upon the throne at all, of course. But if she did manipulate me into accepting terms of a deal I would otherwise have never considered…

Why?

“Call Veles,” I say, and Oisin shakes his head.

“I don’t think—”

“We need to speak with him.”

“Why?”

“Because we sent our soulbonds out into the world with no protection. Whatever game she is playing, if she is playing it, then they are not safe.”

Oisin presses his lips together in a thin line and nods once before he gets to his feet and leaves the room. I collapse back into the armchair. Weeks, I said, but prodding at my magic now, I think I might have less time left than that.

Wearing the crown… I believed it to be my fate, and she did not lie and tell me it was, but she implied it. And I believed her. I rub a hand over my face. I have no idea if the bond between Oisin and me can be broken, not now that we have taken the crowns. At least he should not fade when I die. Perhaps he will have a chance for his own escape then, because the more that dread curls in my stomach, the more I believe he, too, needs to escape this realm entirely.

It is not long before he returns, ushering Veles into the room before him. The older fae is cantankerous at the best of times, and I hear his grumbling, but he pauses when he sets his eyes on me, face falling.

“Ah. I had thought I was fooling myself.”

“The crown is draining me,” I say with a sigh and push myself up in the armchair again. “Please. Sit.”

Veles does, perching on the edge of the sofa as though he wishes to be anywhere other than here. Oisin sits more comfortably next to him.

“Why did you not allow Aodhan to try the crowns?” I ask. He must not have. Otherwise, my uncle would have given up or sought power some other way.

“I knew they would drain him.”

“How?”

Veles narrows his eyes. “How?” he repeats.

“How did you know? How do you know? I could not tell until I touched the oak, truly, that something was wrong. You have not worn a crown yourself.”

“Never.”

“Then how?”

Veles purses his lips. He looks some way past me, considering whether to speak at all. After a few seconds, he sighs and his shoulders drop. “The witch gave me the power,” he says. “After your father died. Your mother sent me to her to ask who should take the crowns. Your brother was already dead, and the entire court knew you would be unwilling. Iagan… Iagan was not an option.”

I don’t ask him to elaborate on that, even as a spark of interest lights up inside of me. Why not? It is unimportant right now.

“What did she say?”

“She said she could not say anything at all. That it was up to fate. However, considering my level of power, she could give me the ability to tell whether another fae would be strong enough.” He narrows his eyes. “When I looked at you, I believed you were.”

“But we can all tell, can’t we?” Oisin asks. “I feel the strength of other fae.”