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She licked her lips, testing the truth of the reply no doubt, then tilted her head. “Surprising. Last I knew he was your despised master. Is this no longer the case?”
“It’s not,” I said softly. “I’m not Ari’s thrall any longer. I’m . . . his wife.”
I’d anticipated stun, but not laughter.
“Curse the hells.” Niklas dragged a hand down his face. “Ari went and got vowed and didn’t tell her?” He glanced at his wife. “The queenie is going to slaughter him.”
Junius snickered and faced me again. “Only his wife? I feel as though you’re keeping something from me. What is this Calista said about Ari taking a throne?”
I shifted, glancing around at the bodies strewn out over the ground. “I will tell you everything, but we shouldn’t stay in the open.”
“Give me a moment, and we’ll be protected for the better part of a clock toll.” Niklas removed a pouch from his canvas jacket and walked in a wide circle, sprinkling white powder around us until the contents were gone. He tossed the leather pouch and wiped his hands. “There. No one will be able to cross that line, nor see us until the spell cast wears off. I’d get to talking.”
My voice dropped to something low, something harsh. “Once I explain, I ask not to be questioned again. I’ve been parted from Ari long enough, and my patience wears thin. I fear soon, I will be forcing action through blades and blood.”
Junius grinned. “Sweet as honey. No lies off her tongue.” She took hold of my arm the way she’d done to her husband. “I hold a special place for Ari Sekundär. I’ve known him since he was the king of the rebels in the North. I was held captive by him.”
“Like Stieg.”
“Exactly.” Junius met my gaze with a fire in the dark shade of her eyes. “I didn’t fear being your husband’s captive, for even when we hardly knew each other, I never once tasted a lie. He hid a great deal, that much any of us could tell, but if you’ve been the one to snare his heart—I’ll stand with you.”
My fingers twitched at my sides. I needed to move, to act, anything.
“One clock toll.” Niklas tilted his head toward the white powder. “We’ve been waiting for Calista to show for nearly two nights. Do you know how muggy it gets this close to the water? Now, tell us why we’re here.”
Words came slowly at first, but little by little the tale bloomed from beginning to present. I told them how I was numbered amongst the cursed royals, how Ari scorched my heart free of the ice surrounding it. I spoke of Davorin, the influence of his treachery across centuries, across kingdoms. Junius and Niklas listened, and unconsciously stepped closer to each other the longer I spoke until their fingers were laced tightly. The boy, Ash, listened with rapt attention, a pensive look on his pale face.
I explained the betrayal against Ari at the death of Princess Signe and our journey to clear his name and heal the wild plague.
“So that is the affliction.” Niklas gestured to the fallen guards.
“Yes.”
“Good thing that smoke they ingested boils them from the inside out if we let them sleep long enough. We’ll put them out of their misery.” Niklas grinned, as though the thought was both merciful and thrilling.
“No!” I gripped the Falkyn’s arm before I could think better on it. “Do you recognize him?” I pointed at Bo.
“Now that I look at him . . . he was with King Bracken at the end of the battle at the Black Palace.”
“Yes. Bo. He is a tracker, fiercely loyal to the Southern Isles. He is twisted in such a way he hardly recognizes me, but I can’t let him die.”
The Falkyn hesitated, then strode over to Bo and shoved a blackened leaf onto his tongue. Bo didn’t move, but Niklas said, “There. He won’t die. Yet.
Niklas’s sly grin was long gone. He looked at me with a touch of trepidation, maybe even fear. An unnerving look on a man like him. “What happened to Ari?”
It took ten breaths to find the words. My voice cracked to the point of embarrassment, but I managed to spew every horrid truth. The pain he endured against Davorin, the poison leeching through his blood. I paused, a hand to my heart as I admitted he was locked in a fae sleep and I did not know how to end it.
Niklas paced around our small circle, already lost in thought. He rubbed his stubbled chin, muttered under his breath, and occasionally dragged his beringed fingers through his hair.
Junius had an arm draped around Ash’s shoulders even if the boy met her in height. She seemed protective, like all at once, she regretted having a young one with them.
“You were right to seek me out.” Niklas said at long last.
“I didn’t,” Calista said. “You came to my head, and I know better than to ignore such thoughts.”
“I’ve studied a great deal on fae sleep since the war of the North,” Niklas explained. “I was there when Valen and Sol woke their parents from a centuries-long sleep. Theirs was different in ways—done by fury, since Lilianna Ferus is not Night Folk.”
“What are the differences?”
