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“I wager it was my charisma that kept everyone away, then. It tends to intimidate others.”

“Why bother with a coterie? It takes only one Fae to state terms, and one to reject or accept them.”

“In other words, you’re a control freak.”

“Probably. Anyway, I’m done talking to you.”

“You’re done when I say you’re done, luv.”

“You should be blind,” Elixir demands.

“Yet I’m not,” Scorpio gloats. “Apologies for disappointing you again, Sire.”

Although he occupies the furthest seat from his ruler, the distance between them is moot, powerless to stifle the tension.

“Elaborate,” Elixir clips. “Either do so, or choke on your wine. Make your choice.”

Scorpio’s features click into place. He knows what that means, knows what Elixir can do from this distance. Wisely, the merman sets down his goblet. “Elaborate?” He taps his chin. “That sounds like it’ll take work.”

“True work is for the strong-willed,” Juniper recites.

Puck smirks at her. “Book of Fables?”

“Journal of Juniper.”

“Even better. Honestly, I was wondering how long it would take you.”

Scorpio grunts. “Too bad I’m not interested in secondhand teachings from a human.”

“Watch yourself,” the satyr warns, swinging his head toward the merman. “That human is my woman. Make a mockery of her, and she’ll make an ignoramus of you. And when she’s done, I’ll say I told you so.”

The Fae scoffs, then regards Elixir with a blithe expression that neglects to conceal his smugness. “The flood weakened you, and the saltwater weakened you further. Need I say more?”

No, he needn’t. Elixir’s countenance shifts in comprehension. The flood and salt had expended his energy, thus decreasing the strength to wield his power. Because of that, the magic hadn’t cemented to the point of irreversibility. As a result, blinding the merman had been temporary.

Cove peers at Scorpio and shakes her head. “The vial that salted the water. You took it from Elixir’s den, didn’t you?”

Scorpio refuses to acknowledge her but just stares at Elixir. While struggling with him underwater, Cove had noticed a vial hanging from around Scorpio’s throat. She’d torn it from him and hurled the contents at his face, which had brined the water.

What she hadn’t intended was for the water to nearly drown my brother—but it must have been on Scorpio’s agenda.

And Coral, Elixir’s first-in-command, had reported seeing Scorpio loitering in the den shortly before the flood began.

The merman tilts his head. “I must admit. I expected a less civil response than that, Sire. You must be getting soft…slowing down.”

Elixir’s visage tightens. “Are you familiar with the pyre viper?”

Scorpio twitches. His index finger ceases tapping against his chin.

Amusement travels across The Parliament. I can tell by the shift in the air.

For my part, a grin slants across my mouth. The pyre viper is an extinct reptile of Faerie, a dweller that once existed during the age of the kelpies. According to lore, the viper had been the slowest of serpents, yet it had delivered the harshest venom, which melted its victim from the inside out.

Just because a creature moves slowly, that doesn’t mean it’s not the most brutal of killers. My brother may have given his heart to a mortal, but he’s never lost his capacity for ruthlessness. One would think Elixir has provided Scorpio with plenty of opportunities to learn this.

At this point, the only reason Scorpio still possesses the husk of skin encasing his body is because of our location. We’d cited this meeting as neutral. Faeries are duplicitous, but they always keep their word once a bargain is made.

That isn’t to say Elixir won’t make good on his threat once we leave here.