Page 59

They walked to the dais, standing in a line. Everyone was standing, I realized. Not a single chair to be seen in the guild hall.

I waited for the official declaration, the pomp and ceremony that I’d witnessed from Veyka’s royal council before they’d been either killed or disbanded.

But no pronouncement came.

One moment there was silence.

The next, the entire hall erupted in yells.

The elders, the townspeople, everyone was yelling. There was no coherency to it at all. A sour faced elder with a long gray braid stomped his foot repeatedly, punctuating words I couldn’t make out. Beside him, the youngest of the elders, a man with hair that was still mostly brown, was hunched over in a heated exchanged with another man standing at the foot of the dais. It was utter chaos.

I glanced to Veyka, expecting to see her open-mouthed amazement. Lyrena’s laugh was audible through the din, disbelief mixed with the delight of pure entertainment.

But Veyka wasn’t even watching the spectacle.

Her eyes were on two children, sitting on the floor a few yards away.

One could only assume their parents were among the rabble. But the two children—a girl and a boy, perhaps aged five—sat knee to knee, engaged in a game of clapping hands in a practiced pattern.

They gave no sign they even heard the din around them. Which told me plenty—this was not unusual.

But eventually, one voice did rise above the rest.

“King Arthur promised us—”

Veyka’s head snapped up. I grabbed her shoulder. It all happened in a blink.

“What did he say?” Her words were so soft, I didn’t know if she’d spoken aloud or I’d heard it through the bond.

Another voice—louder. Others falling away to listen.

“King Arthur promised us succor. The guards he sent were taken by the darkness the same as our own men. They killed even more of our kin in their madness before they were brought down.”

A bubbling chorus, another yell.

“We cannot trust another fae King with our wellbeing.”

The humans that had met us at the standing stones were not representative. Not wholly. There were humans here who hated us, who still feared us.

“What other option do we have? The fae are the only ones powerful enough to help.”

“We sent a messenger. He hasn’t returned. Sending anyone else is just another lamb to the slaughter—”

The next voice I recognized.

“He was taken by the darkness. He made it to Baylaur, but it followed him even there.” Sylva paused only long enough to take a quick breath. Smart enough not to squander the attention she’d gained. “The High King and Queen of Annwyn are amenable to hearing our pleas. We cannot waste the opportunity. Their alliance may prove invaluable.”

Not precisely the truth.

But eyes were sliding to us.

Some of the townspeople realized who we were. If we were lucky, the word wouldn’t spread until after we were gone.

I doubted our chances.

But they weren’t my concern. Veyka’s eyes had glazed over, her body stiff.

Arthur had known about the darkness, the madness, had been involved with the humans. Perhaps the very same humans who had conspired with Roksana to plot his death.