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“None taken,” said Balahil, shaking his head. “The smallfolk usually go underneath the attention of royals. Such is the way of things.”
“My friend, I would say her lack of attention has given you an advantage,” said Valerian, “That you have been able to continue working and living for as long as you have, that is a comfort.”
“It has been, though it has pained me to live and work in a place that is no longer recognizable as my home, under the rule of a woman who attained the throne by impersonating a princess and ousting the royal family. How could she have done this?”
“It’s a long story,” I said.
“Wait,” Gullie zipped closer to the rider. “You said there are more of you who know the truth? Did you mean just you and your wife, or are there others?”
Balahil’s eyes darted left and right, as if he were searching for potential eavesdroppers. He then leaned a little closer to my Pixie aunt. “There are others,” he said, “Scattered across all corners of the Winter Kingdom. Amara’s name is spoken of in hushed tones in the dead of night, as are those of the rest of the royal family. Many Fae know the truth, but none dare speak of it in polite company out of fear.”
“Fear of being killed,” said Valerian.
The rider nodded. “Many Fae have gone missing… Fae who had previously talked ill of theFalse Queen of Windhelm.”
“Her spell is more broken than we had anticipated,” said Melina. “If there are many other Fae out there who know the truth… there may be people willing to help us with what we need to do.”
“What we need to do?” asked Balahil.
I gave him my eyes for a moment, then pulled Valerian, Melina, and Gullie back, asking him to allow us a moment to speak in private. My mind was racing, I didn’t think I could string together two coherent thoughts, but I needed to process what I had just learned.
Malys’ spell was failing.
People knew who I was.
“This has broken my brain,” said Gullie. “I never would’ve known other people had shrugged off Malys’ magic like that.”
“In our defense,” Melina put in, “We’ve been living in a cottage under a literal rock for, like, a whole year.”
“Right… still, I feel like this is something I should’ve known.”
I shook my head. “Don’t worry about that right now,” I said. “This is good news.”
“I hate to be that person,” said Valerian.
“Then don’t be…” Melina put in, shrugging.
Valerian grunted. “If the crone’s sorcery is unravelling, then that means two things.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“She’s probably desperate… and that makes her more dangerous than ever.”
“Dangerous?”
“Desperation makes people do terrible things. If her spell fails utterly, she’ll be ousted as a fraud, all of Windhelm will turn on her, and then she’s done. At which point she will either need to flee, or if she’s been cornered, people could die by her hand. Perhaps many—we don’t know the true extent of her power."
"He's right,” said Gullie. “If I was her right now, I would be desperate to fix my spell and make it work properly.”
“Maybe she doesn’t know how?” asked Melina.
“Which means…” I paused, shaking my head. “Which means she needs me.”
“You?” asked Valerian.
“I’m the one who started this. She needed me to set things in motion… it stands to reason that I’m the only one who can tip things in her favor again.”
“And we’re walking right into her mouth,” said Valerian. “Unarmed and with no support, on a wing and a prayer.”
