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Jeeze, no wonder I was so tired all the time. There’s salt in about everything back home.
“But you ate at dinner, yesterday,” I remember.
I distinctly remember some meats which must have been cured and salted.
He nods. “It’s far harder to target someone at a banquet—unless you want to kill everyone, that is. And even then, if you’re the only one left standing, that looks rather obvious.”
“I need a guidebook for this world,” I grumble.
Everything he says does make sense, but I wouldn’t have thought of it myself. Which of course is why I keep running into trouble. I don’t think like them.
“They have some in the mortal courts,” he informs me.
“Right. I’ll have to pick one up someday.” I pause awkwardly, yet again choking on thanks. “I appreciate the food, and the advice. It’s good to have someone else on my side.”
I note his interest of the word else, specifically.
He doesn’t voice his thought immediately, but I can tell it’s coming.
“Don’t be too quick to trust Ryther Crow,” Valdred finally says. “He’s the one who stands to lose the most when you’re queen.”
I wasn’t thinking about Ryther at all—I thought about the stranger who got me past the first hurdle, the river.Part of me knew from the very start that Ryther isn’t truly on my side. And he’s said as much in multiple ways. But he's also not working against me. If I had to write a list of the people who seem to be in my corner, the pale blond stranger would come first, then, in the light of current events, I'd add Valdred second, but far from the first. Ryther would be next, and only so long as our agendas align.
Mine is staying alive. His is...what?
"Is Crow his surname, then?" I ask, rather than addressing his accusation head-on.
Valdred tilts his head. "It's common knowledge he was born a Crow. Ryther's the name the high queen gave him. Not many know his given name. But whatever you call him, remember that he is king of all unseelie courts. Not only does he rule the wild, but the night and winter, the sea, blood, and silver court all bow to him. With you enthroned, he loses that power."
“And you and I are only on the same side until I’ve helped with your father,” I say, voicing the conclusion I came to after his explanation. “Then you’re free, and I’m a problem for you too, right?”
He has the sense not to pretend otherwise. “Don’t make a fire in the keep, however cold it gets. Find covers and bundle up through the night if you must.”
That's something I would likely not have thought about myself if he hadn’t mentioned it. The smoke and the light might alert others of my presence. I know how to make fires—having parents fond of hiking and camping ensured that—and given half a chance, I likely would have.
Thanks being out of the question, I’m thinking about another way to express my appreciation without compromising my safety, when he steps back into the woods and disappears without a warning.
Left alone, I notice the fox is long gone, having likely vanished the moment Valdred arrived.
I brace myself, exhaling deep. “Here goes nothing.”
Then I step into darkness.
* * *
I thought I’d emerge in a grand, freezing castle filled with dust-covered riches, spiderwebs, and maybe the odd crown I could pop on my head. Instead, on the other side, there’s a familiar room, in a small, windowless one-story building made of white stone.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Somehow, I’m back in Ryther’s camp.
Specifically, I am in his bathroom.
At least I don’t have to concern myself with the cold, here.
I’m alone, and in the dark. Reluctant to risk changing the former, I don’t try to do anything about the latter; besides, I can see well enough to not fall on my ass.
I hurriedly shed my clothes, and climb into the large pool, which is still magically—and blissfully—warm.
