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Only one can unite the unseelie courts under the mountain under one single cry.
He’ll know I have returned. He’ll know his rule is ended. Creatures such as us don’t give in until we’re bent in two, forced to bow at our enemies’ heels. I am seven hundred years his senior. I’ve lived through the elder wars, conquering lands from the claws of feral warriors since before his first breath. And I will bow to none but the high queen.
If the princeling has any sense, he’ll withdraw while his spine is in one piece.
The rites change every time, but all three are always deadly, pitting folk against folk to determine the strongest, most cunning, and ruthless amongst the contestants.
An echo of old satisfaction rumbles through me, unfamiliar after so long. The hunt is a thankless affair, endless, never fruitful or satisfactory. The eldritch cannot truly be destroyed, only banished for a time. I’ve missed actually being able tohurtsomething. Someone.
A dark shadow flies through the arches that are never closed in this hall, heading straight to me, and a slow smile stretches my lips.
I’ve missed this, too.
The large crow spreads its iridescent wings at the last second, and smoothly alights on my shoulder in a slow, practiced move. He immediately proceeds to nip my earlobe, crying angrily.
He doesn’t have to; we understand each other wordlessly.
Did you have to stay gone so long?
Calreth’s hunt is the only thing stopping the eldritch from claiming this world. Ilvaris is polluted by greed, lust, and above all, chaos. Would you like to see the universe destroyed sooner than it has to be?
Stop pretending you left for any reason other than boredom.
If I wanted to saddle myself with a whining, nagging hag, I’d marry one, Crow.
He nips harder. I allow it. Firstly, because I may deserve it, but also because if there’s a way to stop him, I haven’t yet discovered it.
I owe nothing to the likes of Relva, or any other person here, but keeping my distance from my familiar wasn’t an easy feat. No amount of space between us could shatter our mental link, as a part of my soul, however small, belongs to him—and his to mine. We’re not quite whole until we’re together.
Caenan steps to the dais and hands me a gold glass full of pale green wine, offering his own for a toast. “To the crow king’s return!”
As if they heard his words, dozens and dozens of black birds storm in, the strength of their wings blowing out the candles hanging too high until the cavernous hall carved at the heart of the mountain is dimmed—which is much kinder to my eyes.
Between their cries and the rest of the court’s second greeting, my senses should have been too overwhelmed to feel the slight shift in the air, in the darkness, in the very bones of the earth.
But I feel it. Like a loud whisper demanding my attention.
I stand, eyes piercing the darkness, seeking…something.
I can’t name it. I can’t explain it.
I can’t deny a certain discomfort sits inside me. Nothing much surprises me. I am one of the oldest creature alive in this world—at least, if we count the sane ones. The gentry folk may not age, but elders grow weary with the monotony of the unchanging time. They either leave this world for another, in search of something new, or simply start quarrels they know they cannot win to make another folk shove a dagger through their misery.
After so long on Ilvaris, there’s no lore I haven’t heard of, no magic I don’t understand, and very few secrets left to uncover.
Yet I don’t know this feeling.
By all the cruel gods, are youscared?Crow has the gall to ask.
My jaw ticks in annoyance.
If I could lie, I would deny his claim. But even as I walk to the closest archway into the dark, moonless night, a shiver runs down my spine.
I lock my hands behind my back and close my eyes.
Something is coming to unravel, change, or destroy our peace.
If I had time, I’d consult the archives, a seer, a sorcerer if I had to. But the rites are starting on the morrow. I have to be on my way before daybreak.
