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33 THARAN

The first rays of dawn’s light streamed in through the infirmary’s stained-glass windows. The staff took one look at the flames burning in Tharan’s eyes and didn’t bother to stop him when he burst through the double doors.

“Conrad?”

A stunned healer pointed to the back. “Last bed on the right.”

A gush of wind followed behind Tharan. Magic sparked in the air, and copper fizzled on his tongue.

The patients slept soundly in their beds as he tore through the great room, but Conrad’s lay empty.

“Where is he?” Tharan growled. Rage built in his chest with each breath he took. His acute hearing caught the faint sound of muffled moans of pleasure. Tharan stalked to the nearest closet, yanking the door open. Inside, Conrad had one of the healers on his lap, her face twisted in a mixture of pain and pleasure. His hand covered her mouth in a desperate attempt to quiet her moans.

“Get out,” Tharan said.

A shit-eating grin crossed Conrad’s long face.

“Tharan! It has been too long.”

“I need the song, Conrad.”

The woman, still sitting on Conrad’s lap, flitted her eyes between the two.

Conrad’s expression darkened, and he ran his hand through his dark hair flippantly.

“It’s mine. I got it fair and square from your paramour. In fact, I’d say I got the short end of the deal. Lost my entire ship.”

Tharan gripped the collar of Conrad’s shirt, lifting him to meet his gaze. The woman on his lap slid off, making a quick exit.

“Calliope has her, and I need it to get her back.”

Conrad’s eyes widened.

“I’m sorry, Tharan, I can’t. I need it.”

“For what? So you can control the seas? You’re already a revered pirate. What else could you need?”

Conrad held up his arm with the bargain snaking its way through his veins like ink.

“I need my magic back. Without the song, I can’t get past her guards to kill her.”

“What did you do?”

“I made a bargain with the serpent queen. She said she’d grant me the ability to breathe underwater if I brought her the Cursed Coin of Coronado, but when I delivered the coin, she cast me out without fulfilling her end of the bargain.”

Tharan released his friend.

“How are you not dead.”

“With a concoction of potions that may kill me before the bargain does.”

Tharan clicked his tongue.

“How could you be so foolish as to make a deal with the serpent queen?”

“I thought I was smarter than her.”

“Ha! She has been haunting men for a millennium.”

A look of resignation washed over Conrad’s face.

“I need my magic back, and the only way to do that is to use the siren’s song to control her guards.”

Tharan was torn between wanting to save his love and helping his friend.

“You know what Aelia is, right?”

Conrad raised a brow. “Yes, I know of her powers.”

“Then give me the necklace, and when I have freed her, we will use her power to break the guards’ minds.”

Conrad’s brows now knitted as he considered his friend’s offer.

“Would she be able to do something like that?”

“There is a well of untapped power stored within her. There’s no telling what she can do.”

Conrad sighed.

“Fine. Take it.” He unclasped the necklace and handed it to Tharan. The warm stone lay heavy in his hand. “You know I’m a romantic, Tharan.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Tharan’s lips.

“I know you are a good man under all those layers of stone.”

“Get out of here before I change my mind.” Conrad rolled his eyes at his friend.

Tharan looked at Amolie, who nodded to the pirate.

“Thanks again.”

The two headed back to the Alder Townhome as fast as they could.

“I called for Roderick and Caiden. Hopefully, they can portal here quickly,” Amolie said, taking a seat in the study. “I guess I should tell you. I think they found something.”

Tharan stoked the fire, thinking of the torture Calliope could inflict upon Aelia. He barely heard Amolie.

“What? Oh? Really?”

“Yes.”

Tharan let out a breath. “Well, that’s good.” Taking a seat across from Amolie, he lit a cigarette. “I don’t know what I’ll do if anything happens to her, Amolie.”

Amolie let out a small chuckle.

“Aelia is good at getting out of shitty situations.”

“I know, but this feels different.” Tharan let out a plume of smoke.

“It is different when you love someone.”

“I guess you’re right. I was never this protective with…” His voice trailed off.

“It’s different when you’re young and in love,” Amolie said. “You were both soldiers in the heat of battle. Everyone knew the risks. The fact that you worry about Aelia means you care. Trinity, I worry about her, and I’ve known her for years. Although, half the time, she gets herself into messes. I’m extra worried about Baylis. If Calliope knows they’re sisters, she’ll likely take her head as payback.”

Tharan took another drag from his cigarette.

“That’s what I don’t understand. Why were they out late together?”

Amolie shrugged.

“Finneas said Baylis disappeared sometime in the middle of the night. Slipped right out under our noses.”

“Hmm… that’s curious. Has she ever done something like that before?”

“I’ve only known her for a short while. I cannot say what she would and would not do.”

Tharan stared into the fire. What was Aelia going through right now? Was she hurt? Afraid? Dead? He shook his head. He couldn’t think like that. He needed to believe she was alive, and he would save her.

“Amolie, did Aelia tell you what she saw in Baylis’s mind?”

“Yes, she thought she saw Baylis with Gideon.” Her eyes went wide. “No… you don’t think.”

A little voice in his head did think Baylis was behind this, but for Aelia’s sake, he didn’t want to believe it. If Baylis was a traitor, it would break her.

“I don’t know, Amolie. Calliope seems like the obvious answer. She has every reason to kidnap both Baylis and Aelia.”

“But how would she get Baylis out of the house unseen? For Trinity’s sake, the Wild Hunt is guarding the place. Would she really be that daring?”

Tharan took another drag from his cigarette.

“She’s cunning, that’s for sure. But what if…”

Amolie finished his sentence.

“What if Baylis left on her own accord?” She tapped her bottom lip. “What if she was sleepwalking and just happened to slip past the guards? Calliope could’ve had Ursula watching for just such an occasion.”

“Could she have slipped something to one of the servants? Had them drop a potion into Baylis’s drink?” He rang a bell, and Finneas came running.

“Yes, my Lord?”

“Who was on duty the night Aelia disappeared?”

“This is a small staff, my Lord. We all work every day there are house guests.”

Tharan ashed his cigarette.

“When Sumac gets back, I want them all interviewed. We need to know if they saw anything.”

“Yes, my Lord.” He bowed and left the room.

“I should have paid better attention to my senses. I should have known she was in trouble,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. I’m sure you were busy with the elves.”

Tharan sighed.

“You’ve got that right. Found out my mother was alive shortly before I discovered she’s been sharing a bed with my grandfather for a century.”

Amolie’s mouth fell open, and her hazel eyes went wide. “I don’t even know how to respond to that. Why?”

“I had the same reaction.” Tharan took a drag off his cigarette. “The elves’ magic is fading. I think some of them are even dying. They are desperate to get their magic back. So desperate they are essentially breeding their most fertile women to their own families.”

“I always thought they used humans for that.”

“Humans are a conduit for magic, but they are not inherently magical. I think all the mixing with the humans bred the Breath out of the elves. And if they are no longer immortal… they are no longer the supreme race of the continent.” Tharan ashed his cigarette and rang for a servant.

“So, this is a way for them to stay in power, even if they damage the gene pool in the making.” Amolie asked.

Tharan cocked his head, looking at the posh library around him.

“Power is a drug no one wants to quit.”

Amolie nodded. “I think that’s why the witches didn’t take a side in the war. I think they thought they were powerful enough to withstand any conflict.”

“Foolish of them,” Tharan replied.

Finneas entered the study again.

“Yes, my Lord?” He bowed low.

“Would you bring us some wine and a bite to eat? Perhaps croissants with cheese?”

“Yes, my Lord.” He backed out of the room.

“You’re going to eat the food and drink the wine when you think someone may have poisoned Baylis?”

Tharan shrugged, repositioning himself in the seat. The fire cast a golden hue on his ethereal features.

“Oh, I’m sure word has spread throughout the house by now that I am suspicious of the staff. No one would dare to poison me now.”

Finneas returned carrying a tray with a hand-blown carafe of wine and an assortment of pastries, which he set on a little table between Tharan and Amolie.

Hopper came stalking into the study, pulling his hood back to reveal his distinguished face. “It is done. Ursula is delivering the letter.”

“Thank you. Did she seem like she knew anything?” Tharan asked, pouring himself a glass of wine.

Hopper shook his head.

“You never can tell with the mer. Slippery folk, even when on dry land.” He helped himself to a pastry topped with melted cheese before taking a seat at the large oak desk in the back of the room.

Tharan thrummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. A mixture of guilt and anger swirled in his mind.

“I shouldn’t have left her. I should have been here. If I were here…”

“Don’t blame yourself. You both had a job to do,” Hopper said.

On the outside, Tharan remained calm and collected as any king should… While on the inside, he was raging against himself. Who else was to blame? He should have been here.

“How can I be king if I cannot keep the ones I love safe?” He took a drink of his wine.

“You are a king, not a god.”

Tharan twisted a stray lock of hair around his finger. “Technically…”

Hopper scoffed at his friend, and Tharan rolled his eyes. He needed to focus on the upcoming meeting. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if he was unprepared and unfocused. Reluctantly, he pushed his guilt deep inside himself.

“What should we know about Calliope?”

“Well, she’s incredibly smart and incredibly conniving, vindictive…” Hopper trailed off.

“Oh, so just like every sylph, elf, and human on this continent.”

“Except all of them don’t control every creature living underwater. Calliope is more powerful than Arendir and could crush him if she wanted to. The only reason she doesn’t is because she knows they would come after the Wild Courts, of which she is one. She likes to keep to her own business, and I much prefer it that way as well.”

Amolie chimed in, “So, were the mer enslaved by the elves too?”

“No,” Hopper answered. “Calliope slipped into the river before her throat could be slit. She and Eoghan… er, the Alder King, worked together to fight back against the elves, which is how she became a member of his court.”

“The mer aren’t technically sylph, although I guess you could consider their ability to breathe underwater and walk on land a ‘gift.’ They worship both Illya and Manannán mac Lir.”

“Like the witches are and aren’t human,” Amolie said.

“Yes,” Tharan said, leaning back in his chair. “If I had to guess, I’d say witches are the result of humans and sylph mating and then the offspring of two half-breeds and so on and so forth, until witches appeared to be human but still retained a bit of magic.”

Amolie chuckled.

“That makes much more sense than what they tell us.”

Hopper arched a brow, but Tharan’s mind was a million miles away. To wherever Aelia was. How could he sit and enjoy his friends while his love was out there suffering?

Sumac waltzed into the room with the grace only afforded to those of the Hunt. “I’ve found something.”

Tharan sat up straight in his chair. He didn’t dare to hope for good news.

Sumac continued, “The snow covered most of their tracks since they left, but what I could make out seemed to point toward the temple of Ammena.”

Now that was intriguing… “Go on…”

“The trail went cold after that, but I did find one of my men half alive, huddled in a closet in the temple.”

“Is he going to be alright?” Tharan asked, concern flaring. There were few who could take down a member of the Hunt. Either they were ambushed or outnumbered.

“He’ll live. The healers took him to the infirmary. I could not find my other man who went with them.” Her face knitted with concern.

“Only someone both powerful and well trained could take down two riders of the Hunt.” Tharan ran his thumb over his bottom lip as he gazed into the fire. “Could Calliope’s mer have done this?”

Sumac cocked her head.

“Perhaps. They are certainly known to be ruthless. But usually, they devour their victims.”

Amolie’s already pale face whitened at the thought.

Tharan’s stomach churned. First Aelia, now two of his Hunt. He could feel his authority slipping away and a heat rising in his veins.

“Perhaps that is what happened to the other soldier,” Tharan said, trying his best to keep his voice calm.

Sumac nodded.

“We will question him when he wakes. He was so bloodied I didn’t bother to ask him any questions.”

“Did you find anything else?”

“The priestesses said there looked to be signs of a struggle in the temple, but they cleaned it up so no parishioners would see.”

“Of course they did,” Hopper chimed in.

“So, we have three missing people and no leads. Perfect.” Tharan took a long drag from his cigarette.

“I guess we’ll have some answers in a few days,” Hopper said.

“In a few days, both Aelia and Baylis could be dead.” Tharan slammed his fist on the arm of his chair. “I wish there was more we could do besides wait.”

“Do not be rash, my King,” Hopper said. “I know you want to save your beloved but acting out of emotion and not thinking things through could get her killed.”

Tharan took a deep breath and sat back in his chair.

“You’re right. There’s no use getting worked up.”

“I need you to keep your head on straight. Calliope is a slippery fish, and if you’re upset, she will rub salt into the wound.”

“Alright, alright.” Tharan threw up his hands in surrender.