Page 92

Perhaps because the crowd passing us by was at least a quarter fey, plus a lot of part fey and people who might be part fey, but could also be some kind of demon I hadn’t met yet, because Pritkin’s other half didn’t discriminate.But plenty were recognizably from Æsubrand’s world, and I saw the disconcerting gaze following them.In particular, I saw it focus on a Light Fey child of perhaps three who was toddling this way, her shoulder-length silver hair shining brightly in the sunlight.

She was wearing a stained but clean tunic and a pair of sandals that looked like they’d been cut down from old car tires.She was laughing and pointing at the prince, probably because she’d found someone who looked like her.Her mother did not, being human in appearance and frazzled as she ran after her wayward tot.

Æsubrand nodded briefly but said nothing as the woman, a pretty brunette with freckles across her nose, apologized and snatched up the child.But someone else did.Someone else shouted something that my translator either didn’t know or was too prim to translate.

I guessed it was the latter because Æsubrand flinched.And considering that I’d recently seen him face down a massive Kraken without hesitation, I tensed up and looked around, wondering where the threat was.And spotted it a second later.

It was kind of hard to miss.

A furious fey man, tall and powerfully built, with his silver hair cut short, stormed up and got between Æsubrand and the woman.“Don’t let our child near this one!”he told her, glaring at the prince.“Don’t let him see that some of us survived his father’s treachery, or else he may take vengeance upon us all!”

“I have no quarrel with you—” Æsubrand began haughtily, only to be cut off by the same gesture he’d used on me.

“Quarrel?” The fey was huge, with muscles bulging out from under a short-sleeved homespun shirt in a way that few of his kind could boast.Yet that word reached a note a girl would have struggled with before descending into a growl.“Youdestroyedus!You and that bastard of a sire of yours—”

“I am not my father,” Æsubrand said, low and dangerous.That tone would have had most challengers backing up because there was more to the prince than his size.He carried an air of menace about him, of anger and danger, and a temper barely kept in check that warded off most people.

But not this one.

“Then where were you?” The scream was back and loud enough to draw all eyes in the area.Including those of four more silver-haired types in the crowd, none of whom looked happy to see my companion.

Great.

“Pritkin, we have an...issue,” I said, hoping that the link through the crappy translator spell was still working, only to be cut off by a growl from Æsubrand,

“I do not need his help!”he said—right before he was slugged in the face hard enough to punch all the way through it.

Or it would have done that to a human.In his case, it was enough to send him staggering back a few steps, blood blooming bright and vivid on his face, before another and another and another came in such furious succession that I barely saw them, but they managed to send Æsubrand to the ground.

For a split second, before he flipped back to his feet, also almost too fast to see, with his spear in his hand.

“I do not wish to fight you,” he told the fey after spitting blood.

“I’ll bet you don’t, you coward,” the other snarled and jumped him, along with all four of his friends.

But it quickly became obvious that whatever these guys had been in their old lives, they hadn’t been warriors.Using the spear’s shaft like a fighting staff, Æsubrand laid them out so fast that Pritkin’s response was still crackling in my ear when they hit the dust.“Come again?”I heard before Æsubrand screamed.

“I don’t want to fight you!”

That did not mean that the fey didn’t want to fight him, though, and they were already back on their feet and coming, although more carefully now, and pulling a variety of weapons from underneath their clothing.

“On my way,” Pritkin said urgently because I guessed he’d heard that.“Take cover.”

“Trying,” I said, ducking behind a rusted t-shirt display, not that any of the combatants had even glanced at me.

They were too busy confronting the guy who laid into them a second later, disarming them with a few quick strikes, which only enraged them further.And it seemed to freak him out as well because the stoic prince had tears streaming down his face as he proceeded to beat the living crap out of them, all while taking blows that I knew damned well he could have blocked or evaded.I’d seen him fight.

But it looked like he also wanted to bleed, which all six fey were doing by the time Pritkin ran up with only one boot on, although that had taken him maybe ten seconds.

He assessed the situation but didn’t interfere because Æsubrand had been right: he didn’t need the help.They came at him again and again, the fey bodies taking abuse that would have had a human needing an ER or worse.And were battered back again and again until their hair ran with streaks of red and bruises bloomed on bare arms and on the torso of one guy who was only wearing an open leather vest over his jeans.

But Æsubrand didn’t look any better.

And yeah, it was deliberate.He was letting them get their blows in, too, but being subtle enough about it that I didn’t think they knew.But Pritkin did.

I saw his jaw clench as they landed several horrific cracks on Æsubrand’s ribs, but he still stayed on the sidelines.And so did I, although I could have shielded him, at least.But somehow, I didn’t think that would be appreciated.

And the fey didn’t kill him as I’d half feared.Not even when they bore him to the ground and pinned him there, with three of them working him over at once.He could have gotten out of it; I knew damned well he could, but he just lay there unflinching, taking the beating.