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the age when a suitable bondmate would have been found and our
triad formed. He has lost hope. He is dying. Your summons could not
have come at a better time, old friend. We are desperate.”
22
Sophie Oak
Beck polished off his second sandwich and thought about a third.
It seemed rude to eat the majority of the meal.
Rhys pushed the plate toward him. “Please, Your Highness. I am
not the richest man, but allow me to aid you. Our food is plentiful. My
wife will make sure your mate has suitable clothing. My son has
ensured that your steed is stabled and well-fed. You will find your
saddle bags filled with everything you need for the journey. I am
pleased to serve my king.”
Beck was aware of the great sense of gratitude he felt for the small
gnome. Rhys’s family had once served the King of the Seelie Fae, and
Rhys and his family had preferred exile to serving Torin, the
Pretender. “I do not know how to thank you, old friend. If you ever
have need of a sword, I trust you will call on me.”
The gnome grinned. “I know who to call, but no one bothers us.
The deal we made with the Planeswalker clan protects us.”
Beck knew the deal well. The Planeswalkers came from a plane
many called Hell. They were a demonic clan and very mercenary, but
easily controlled with an ironclad contract. Demons could access all
planes and were great believers in contracts. Rhys and his tribe of ex-
patriots served as salesmen for the demons’ wares. The demon tribe
would gather items of interest. Rhys would sell them and take a cut. It
had worked well for both sides.
Beck finished the last of the food and took a deep breath. It felt
good to be full. Now he needed to take a nap. He had several hours
before he would fight. He just had to be sure of a couple of things
