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BETH
Aftereverythingwe’dbeenthrough, he still thought I was a ruthless killer? I could barely speak I was so angry. And then the fury drained out of me, and I felt cold all over. Maybe I expected too much. How would he know? After all, Prys had denounced me in front of the entire court, and nobody had spoken up in my defense.
I took a deep breath and forced myself to speak calmly. “Dyf. I did not kill the king. Please hear me: somebody’s been hunting me all my life. My mom and dad were killed by a Fae assassin. When I found out I still had family, I was so happy. But now my uncle will have me executed, and then the throne is his. Don’t you think he’s got more of a reason to kill his dad than I do?”
I was getting through to him. His expression thawed, but the tension in his posture remained. Daeary was watching us warily, unable to touch me, but clearly wanting it so very much.
Finally, Dyf broke the silence, sounding defeated and still angry. “I do believe you. But it changes nothing. I have no choice but to fulfill my oath to the king. My people depend on me.”
What did he mean by that? What oath? Daeary opened his mouth as if to say something, but then snapped it shut. Dyf walked past him, careful not to touch him, and took the lead. I had no choice but to follow him, cursing his disgruntled ass.
At midday, we stopped for an hour, and I forced down another portion of the sour hafal, chased by the bitter root to make it safe.
“Could have saved yourself the trouble and just not give us the root, you bastard,” I muttered as I chewed.
Dyf glanced sideways, but didn’t take the bait. Daeary grinned until the merman glared at him with such venom, the incubus raised his hands and scooted away from him. Then we drudged on until the trees thinned and we finally left the spooky forest. Before us lay a plain, and in the distance was a town.
“Let me teach you the travel runes. It will speed up the journey greatly.” Dyf lifted his hand to show me, but I stopped him.
“My dad taught me years ago.”
He lifted a surprised eyebrow, but didn’t comment. Instead, he weaved a complicated rune in the air. “Let us move swiftly, then. I do not want to spend another night in the cursed vale.”
Daeary and I followed him, drawing the sigil with each mile-long step. The path soon turned into a wide dirt road. Wherever we were going, we were finally leaving the damned wilderness behind.
Another step, and we crossed through a gate in a low wall, much like the one around the outskirts of Emlyn. Below us lay a town, nestled between rolling hills, with several access roads.
“Welcome to Aelwyd,” Daeary said, swiping his arm to encompass the vista.
Humble single-storey dwellings dominated the outskirts. But the longer we walked, the more Aelwyd resembled a medieval town with narrow streets and tall, half-timbered houses.
We’d made it. We were back in civilization. Well, as much as you could call a medieval society civilized. My tiredness and achy limbs forgotten, I strode out, salivating at the thought of food, maybe a bowl of stew. We might even spend the night in an inn with hot water and tubs.
This place was very different from Emlyn. For starters, the streets were nearly empty. Two women in simple homespun clothes carried baskets, but before we could speak to them, they rushed in the opposite direction. It was no surprise to me that their worn faces all bore the same tired, wary expression. They’d been living under Prys’ harsh rule for some time.
We dredged on as the afternoon sun dipped lower, casting eerie shadows across the flagstones. The street widened until we entered a large square, dominated by a vast round structure, like a Roman arena. To the side stood a raised platform.
My breath caught. A tall pole rose from the platform, and ropes dangled from the top. Was that a gallows? I had a horrible feeling about this. Something was very wrong here.
A line of men snaked toward the entrance of the arena. Some spoke quietly to their neighbor, some shouted, their voices tinged with hysteria. There were a few women, but they were by far the minority.
Most of the people waiting were of small stature, like most of the Fae. According to Bleddyn, the dying sun didn’t provide enough energy for food to grow plentiful and feed the population. Only the privileged whose rations were imbued with stolen magic grew tall and strong. Like the guards who stood next to the waiting men, making sure nobody moved out of line.
“What’s going on here?” I asked. “Why are there so many armed soldiers here? Is that normal?”
Dyf had raised himself to his full height, shielding his eyes against the glare of the sun peeking over the roofs. “Some sort of event is happening.”
“I do not like it,” Daeary said. “We should retreat until we find out what this is.”
I couldn’t agree more. Something was wrong, and I was more than ready to get out of here before someone noticed us. We turned and found ourselves face-to-face with a troop of armed males.
“Why are you not in the line for the trials?” the leader barked.
Daeary pushed past Dyf and said smoothly, “Forgive us. We were not aware there were trials going on. We have only just arrived from Emlyn. By your leave, we will find accommodation and recover from the journey.”
He stepped forward as if to move past the soldiers, but the Fae commander placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. The threat was obvious. “I would not want to deprive you of the opportunity of a lifetime, stranger. These trials are to determine who will join the ranks of our new king Prys’s guards. We will accompany your friends to make sure you find your way.”
His mocking tone got my back up, but then I registered his words. New king Prys? My blood pressure shot up so quickly, I felt dizzy with anger. Dyf shook his head imperceptibly, but it was too late to stop me. “And if we don’t want to join the guards?”
