Page 35

All three of them nodded in unison.

“Dungeons it is, then,” she replied. “Guess Kal needs to do a better job of convincing her to join our side.”

“Bit of an understatement,” Toryn muttered back.

This was strange. They bantered like siblings, but I supposed that was to be expected. Clearly, all three were warriors who fought for their king, and they’d likely spent centuries side by side. It was just…

Well, it all seemed sonormal.

Theyseemed normal.

Monsters of myth, they were not. In fact, they reminded me more of the humans back home than of the Albyrian fae I’d met inside Oberon’s castle. Except Morgan, of course, who was clearly part of this crew. But as nice as they seemed, I needed to be on guard. The only thing I knew with certainty was that I could never trust anyone again.

“You look confused, gem thief,” Niamh said, reaching out to flick the ragged ends of my hair. “And you look like you’ve had a rough few days. How would you like a hot bath and a fresh change of clothes?”

“I wouldn’t like that at all.”

She grinned. “Stop lying to us. A bath it is. Come on inside. And don’t look so worried. I promise I won’t let any kings into the room until you’re done.”

Fourteen

Kalen

The mists whipped through the exposed battlement of the North Tower, bringing with it the scent of snow and ice. I grasped the stone crenel and leaned out into the darkness, pulling the air into my lungs to steady my racing heart. Tessa was frustrating me to no end, and I’d only spoken to her twice. If only she would stop foronemoment, she might realize all that wrath needed to be directed somewhere else.

“She’s taking a bath,” Toryn said from behind me as he strode out onto the battlement. “Shockingly, she seems to listen to Niamh.”

I grunted and shook my head. “Of course she does. Niamh is just as much a pain in the ass.”

“You shouldn’t have stormed out like that,” Toryn said quietly. “It did nothing to gain her trust.”

“She’s never going to trust me. I’m the monstrous Mist King who lied to her about the gemstones. What’s the point in even trying to change her mind?”

“Yes, that’s an issue.”

“Has she told you what Oberon did to her?”

Toryn pressed his lips together. “No.”

I sighed and pushed away from the crenel, striding down the winding staircase to the war room below. Torchlight flashed across the etched oak table in the center of the damp room. A carved map of the fae region of the world, Aesir. The Kingdom of Light, The Kingdom of Shadow, and the Kingdom of Storms. Little figurines were scattered across it. Ships and swords and crowns and tiny carved men.

Toryn joined me at the table, frowning down at the cluster of swords gathered just beyond our border. “The scouts say those storm fae are still there?”

“They haven’t moved for weeks. That could be a good thing. Maybe they’re just camping there because they have nowhere else to go.” I left the rest unsaid. Toryn knew how I felt about a group of hostile fae from the Kingdom of Storms camping near our borders. It had been centuries since we’d been locked in battle, and we still traded food and wool, but I’d long suspected their queen was biding her time.

She knew the power of King Oberon’s chasm gemstones. They could do far more than create barriers that kept fae from crossing a bridge. And I was standing right in her path.

“They don’t dare set foot in the mists,” Toryn said as he braced his hands on the smooth edge of the war table. He pointed at the pile of swords. “They might be testing us, trying to draw us out. For now, they have no idea what our numbers are.”

A situation I hoped would never change.

Queen Tatiana of the Kingdom of Storms hadn’t been at the Battle of the Great Rift. She hadn’t seen just how many warriors we’d lost. When the mists had thickened, she’d tried sending scouts ahead to learn our secrets, but many don't survive the mists. Even shadow fae could struggle against the things found in the darkness.

“Well, let’s keep it that way,” I finally replied. “For now, we’ll do nothing. Just keep one scout’s eyes on them.”

Toryn nodded.

The door creaked open, and Niamh entered the war room with Alastair hot on her heels, like always. The look in her eyes was pure defiance, and I fought the urge to scowl. She’d been prickly the past few months, itching for a fight. Niamh didn’t like to go long without stabbing an enemy in the gut.