Page 88 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

“When I die, Oisin will not be freed?”

Oisin stares at me as though I have grown another head. Veles appears less surprised, but perhaps that is simply because he hides it better. “He might,” he says, “if we find others who can wear the crowns. He will not fade like your mother.”

I nod. I knew that already. “Very well.” I wave at them. “If you need me for anything…”

They both take it for the dismissal it is, although there is a moment where Oisin clearly hesitates before he stands. He is king in his own right, of course. He need not listen to me.

But he does, trailing Veles out of my rooms and into the hall. I feel for the wards once they have left. They are still strong, threaded through with my magic, but I am not certain when I will be able to strengthen them again.

I sigh and push to my feet. My head spins for a moment. This is… unexpected. Devastating, if I were to think on it for any amount of time, but I cannot do that. I wander over to the greenhouse and shut myself inside.

The lavender is already sprouting, sweet green shoots pushing through the dirt. I rest my hands on the workbench and stare down at it. It does not smell of the flowers, of course, not yet, and I do not know if I will live long enough to see them.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I am not dead yet, and I will not die tonight. I am determined to uncover the truth of what Aodhan is up to before the crown drains me fully. If he is a threat to Dante, then I will ensure he never has the opportunity to harm him again and that he never sits on the throne.

And the witch… She is not my mystery to solve, not with the time I have left. But by the look on Oisin’s face, I have no doubt he will investigate in my stead.

I have no doubt he will protect our soulbonds either.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Dante

Grant wakes up in the middle of the night. The iron has eaten away at the spell keeping him under and he rolls over with a groan, tipping off the bench and onto the floor.

“Ow.”

The sound wakes me from my doze, but Ophelia hasn’t slept at all and she’s quicker, helping him back up on the bench. Grant winces and touches his head.

“Are you okay?”

He grunts. “Feels like I got too much sun again. Except for the bit where I’m not fully charged. I remember the fae attacked us. What happened?”

“Aodhan,” I say. “He sent the Seelie to grab Ophelia. He brought us here.”

Grant looks up at her. “This is where you were before?”

“Yeah.”

“Way out?”

“They locked the door this time.”

Grant gives Ophelia a disbelieving look, which only serves to make her smile. Good. We sat for about an hour trying to come up with a plan to get out, but there was no way we were going to leave Grant behind. Not that it came up that we would.

We need his power to get out anyway.

“Your head?” I ask.

“I’ll be better soon,” he says. “We need to get to Lark and Oisin, I bet?”

“Seems like Aodhan is after one of them. He wants a crown.”

Grant sighs. “Figures,” he says, and he sounds… disappointed? I snort and shake my head. “Are they going to come and feed you? Water you?”

“I’d hope so,” Ophelia mutters.

I tip my head back against the wall and watch through half-lidded eyes as Grant gets up and inspects the bars of the cell. His magic lashes out, but it feels strained and spiky. We might almost be better waiting a while, except I’m sure if the fae come down here and realise he’s awake, they’ll try to knock him out again.