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I glared at him. “You do much the same when you plot. Don’t deny you love to leave those bleeding pauses to let us wallow in your cleverness, Shadow King.”
Kase shrugged and didn’t deny it.
“Falkyn,” Silas said.
“Wraith.” Niklas tossed a pouch of some wretched elixir between his palms. “What can I do for you?”
Silas licked his lips. “Do you have an elixir for a deep sleep?”
I drew in a sharp breath. “All gods.”
With a tight grin, Silas met my wide stare. He nodded, like he knew I understood what he was thinking. “Let the dreams descend, Little Rose.”
Chapter41
The Phantom
Dawn brokethrough the trees when the Golden King smashed his way into the small lean-to I’d claimed with Calista.
“Up,” Ari said, kicking at my boots. “Something’s happened in the sea fae camp. Need to see if we need to alter plans.”
Calista snapped up at my side. “I’ll kill them all if they’ve gone and done something that makes us shift our moves. We spent all bleeding night roving over every damn detail.”
I agreed, but kept quiet, snatching my sword before we followed the others to the edge of our small camp. Seidr wards from Calista’s blast over Torsten were fading, but still a glimmer caught the gray dawn when we reached the edge of the trees, crouched low.
What cover we needed fell to the hands of Kase and Ari. The Nightrender draped us in darkness with our own bleeding fears, and Ari used his illusions to twist the shadows to appear natural. Mere phantoms in the trees.
The sea fae camp was moving about, some frantically, others stood still on the edges near one of the canvas tents.
“The battle lord,” I whispered near Calista’s ear. “By the shore.”
Davorin had his arms folded over his chest, a taut frown on his stony face. The man was like a pestilence, a sliver of darkness in the dawn, a stain on what might be bright and lovely. He brought with him an aura of pain, and I could hardly wait to rid the bleeding world of it.
“There.” Ari said, voice rough from somewhere down the line. “Who is it?”
Sea fae emerged from the tent, a body held on long furs between them in the makeshift cot. Someone had died.
My blood froze when a boy emerged after the body. Then another. Erik Bloodsinger followed the procession to the sea with haughty arrogance.
“All gods,” Calista said. “That’sHarald. He’s . . . dead.”
Unbidden, a grin split over my face. No wonder Davorin was fuming—his loyal, high-ranking sea fae was gone.
By the looks of the young sea king, there was no disruption to his day at the death of his uncle. Erik waved a hand, and a billow of waves snatched the body of Harald and devoured it in the waves. Without a backward look, the boy king strode off into another tent, wholly unbothered.
“Come on,” Kase muttered to the rest of us. “This is not a hinderance to the plan. If anything, it is a bright morning.”
“Strange, hearing such optimism from you, my dreary friend,” Ari said. “But I shall take it. Davorin meets his end today.”
There was an inspiring viciousness buried beneath the levity of Ari Sekundär, but I embraced it. My life held little meaning for centuries, but today—to my bones—I felt if I succeeded, all the pain, the ghosts, the shadows, the agony, would be worth it.”
A hand slapped against my arm. The Nightrender glared at me with his inky black eyes. “Come on, Wraith. Let us see if you can hit those marks.”
* * *
“What if it doesn’t work?” Calista’s forehead was furrowed in worry as I strapped the sword to my waist. “What if he ends it straightaway?”
“He won’t get the chance. You know he’ll want to make a spectacle of it. Offer ransoms and bargains. He’ll want to use this against the Raven Queen and Golden King. We’ll have time.”
