Page 21 of Tell Them That I’m Coming

“Can you stop saying ‘queen’ like that?” I mutter. “It makes it sound like these are her pets, like Binx. Like she’s… everywhere.”

Thane’s mouth curves faintly. It’s not quite a smile, though I can’t miss the slightly mocking edge to it. “Who says that she isn’t?”

Oh, I don’t like the way he said that. I don’t like that at all.

Sensing my sudden unease, Binx shifts on my shoulder, pressing his small body against my throat. His white eyes glow brighter in the dim. Protective.

I stroke his shadow-fur with my fingertips until he settles, but I don’t take my gaze off Thane.

“If Queen Celeste doesn’t allow shadow magic,” I say carefully, “then why do I still have any of mine at all?”

Weak they might be, but my shadows are still here. That gives me hope that I can use them again—until the fae dashes them.

Thane slows just enough that his cloak stops swaying. He turns more fully, walking backward for a few steps while he studies me as though really seeing me for the first time.

“You’re not fae,” he says, gaze settling on my horns again, a sure marker that I’m at least part demon. “You’re not bound to her laws in the same way the rest of us are.”

“So I can use my shadows.”

His gaze drops to the thin curl of darkness at my feet. “In theory.”

My jaw tightens. “In reality, she won’t let me.”

Thane’s eyes sharpen. “You feel it.”

Yeah. In ways I can’t quite describe to someone who isn’t made up of shadows like I am, yeah. I feel it. “I’m not stupid,” I tell him.

He huffs a laugh, quick and quiet. “No. You’re brave, Alana of Sombra.”

Maybe, but I’m definitely in trouble again. Whether or not she has any idea what happened to a demon stolen by slavers from her realm, something tells me that—if I want to leave Noctavara after following the monarch butterfly into her realm—I’ll have to face Queen Celeste eventually. Is that why the butterflies are here? The queen’s butterflies… are they making sure I reach the monarch of this realm?

I don’t know, though my instincts tell me that I do. I open my mouth to ask Thane how much of a death wish it is for an immortal halfling to request an audience with the queen of this realm when Thane stops walking backward and turns again, slipping seamlessly ahead of me as if the conversation is done.

Not for me it isn’t. And while I hold off on asking him about the queen, I have another question on my mind.

“Where exactly are we going?” I demand, louder than I mean to. Luckily, the woods swallow the sound so that only the three of us hear it.

Thane doesn’t look back. “East.”

I glance around. “Sorry, but that means nothing to me.”

“It will.” He dares a peek over his shoulder at me. Then, as though he’s taken pity on the outsider, he says, “East will leads us to the edge of the Shadowed Woods. There’s a road beyond it, out of reach of the other bandits and beasts in the woods. You’ll find traders. Inns. Maybe even the slavers who have your demon. If not, we’ll take the road until it ends.”

“At the Gilded Court?”

“At the Court,” he agrees.

It’s a plan. That’s what I needed. I’m not just walking around aimlessly, hoping I’ll stumble on Rafe. I have a purpose, and no matter what, I’ll do it.

Rafe…

I keep seeing him in my mind’s eye: his pale hair, his purple eyes, that grin of his when he’s being his charming and ridiculous self, and the earnestness he can’t hide when he’s trying so hard to be taken seriously as a male and not a halfling spawn.

And then, because I can’t stop myself, I see him creating the protective barrier made of his shadows, shielding Katrin and the other demonesses, before being put in chains and dragged by soldiers… slavers… fae who captured him all because I left him alone in Brille Rouge for too long…

Guilt is a bitter thing. It sits in my throat and makes everything else taste wrong. Binx chuffs, letting me know he’s right there with me. With a small, shaky smile, I swallow roughly and keep on moving.

Thane walks without any obvious effort, but neither is he rushing. He keeps a pace I can follow, and that—as tiny as it is—does something to my chest. He could lose me easily, changing his mind about helping me, but he doesn’t—and I don’t know what to think about that other than maybe he senses the fledgling bond between us, too.