Page 20 of Beyond the Winter Kingdom (Faeted Seasons #2)

Vareck

The food was excellent.

Spiced fruit skewers, honeyed bread, roasted nuts with sweet glaze, and drinks that left a faint aftertaste of vanilla and citrus. These creatures, whatever they were, had gone all out.

But it wasn’t hospitality.

Now that we knew the truth—that this wasn’t generosity but preparation—it tasted like poison.

Sadie poked at a pastel dumpling with the edge of a dagger she’d acquired somewhere between hugging Meera and threatening to gut one of the fuzzballs who got too close. “They’re really committing to the whole pre-sacrifice pampering thing, huh?”

“Nothing says ‘tenderize the meat’ like a foot massage and fresh fruit,” Meera muttered.

I kept my voice low. “We can’t wait around for Corvo to bring us a portal. We need to come up with an escape plan. “

“He’ll be back, and we’ll be okay,” Meera said, ever the optimist. I loved that about her, but I’d seen too much to believe it myself.

“Corvo will find Drayden, or Kaia, or both of them. You’re the king of Faerie. They won’t just leave you here to die,” my nephew muttered.

I exhaled slowly. “And what if they’re too late?

” I asked, turning to Damon, who had planted himself furthest from the group, arms crossed and mouth drawn tight.

“Corvo admitted he has no idea when these things will decide we’re ready to be dinner.

You think they’ll give us a second round of appetizers before turning us into the entrée? ”

He didn’t flinch. “I think running off into the magical murder realm with no portal and no exit point is a great way to end up dead. We should wait. If they try anything, then we run.”

“Wait until their teeth are already sinking in for a taste?” Sadie arched her brow, flicking the end of her dagger toward Damon. “Solid plan, princeling.”

“You’ve got a better one?” he shot back. “Because last I checked, you leaving the cave is the reason we’re about to become dinner for the baby murder bears. If we hadn’t left the cave, then we would all be there right now and safer than we currently are.”

“No one made you follow me,” Sadie snapped back, which inevitably devolved into bickering, as was the norm between Meera’s sister and my nephew, I was coming to realize.

If Sadie was fire, Damon was the oxygen that fed her.

“I know there was no notice in Eversus when the shift occurred, but is there any way to tell when the landscape is going to start shifting while in Evorsus?” Meera asked quietly, ignoring them.

“Not until right before it happens,” I replied. “There’s also no telling what will be on the other side of this if it shifts back to Eversus. The carnivorous bear creatures might be the least of our problems.”

Her lips twisted. “Evorsus is eternal night. Eversus is eternal day. Do these things ever sleep?”

“I haven’t seen a single one close their eyes,” Damon answered, mid-argument with Sadie.

“Maybe not sleep, per se, but they do rest,” the redcap countered. “There are times they get kinda slow, and their glowy little lanterns dim down. Then they curl up on us like cats. It’s one big cuddle pile.”

Meera frowned. “It’ll be hard to make an escape with them literally on top of us, assuming we have that long.”

“There’s also the fact that I’m pretty sure they don’t sleep, they just watch us,” Damon pointed out.

“How do you know that?” Sadie asked.

“Unlike you, I can’t fall asleep just anywhere surrounded by anything. They might be cute, but I never trusted them.”

“So you pretended to sleep?” Sadie said. “No wonder you’re such a dick. This is exactly why I sleep when I get a chance. You never know when the next one will be.”

And once again, the bickering continued.

We let them argue. It seemed to soothe them somehow. Or maybe it just helped them ignore the threat slowly encircling us like a morning fog. Inescapable.

“They’re not going to stop,” I muttered to Meera.

“I give it ten more minutes till it turns violent,” she whispered back, not looking up from her half-eaten food. “Five if Sadie remembers she still has that second dagger in her boot.”

“We need to get moving before then.”

“Agreed.”

Sadie and Damon were now arguing about which of them would be a more appealing entrée. Sadie claimed she was too stringy to be worth the trouble, citing Corvo as her source; Damon insisted she had main course energy . I tuned them out.

“We go when they go into rest mode,” Meera said quietly, her eyes scanning the perimeter. “When the lanterns dim.”

I nodded. “How long do you think we have?”

“Hard to tell,” Meera murmured as she looked past me. “But the ones in that corner are already starting to flicker.”

I followed her gaze. Sure enough, the glow from a cluster of lanterns near the far huts pulsed slower than the rest.

“We’ll need supplies,” I said. “More of them. We’re almost out of water and rations are low. We should grab whatever we can carry without drawing attention. Is everyone armed?”

Meera gave a slight nod. “Sadie’s got a couple daggers and her bracers that summon axes, if that still works here.

My magic still works, so hopefully hers does too.

I don’t know about Damon. I have what I grabbed from the safe house.

What about you?” Her eyes flicked to the swords I’d been wearing since we left Warwick. “Anything else besides those?”

I tapped the hilt of a blade still strapped to my back. “I only have Wyrd Reaper and Hex Cleaver.”

Meera arched her brow. “You named your swords?”

I shook my head. “They were named well before my time. I simply use their names in respect to the blades.”

Meera nodded. “Hex Cleaver. I take it that one cuts through magic?” I tipped my chin in answer.

“What about Wyrd Reaper? I haven’t heard of that one before.

I’m guessing it doesn’t cut you down with some harsh words.

” Her lips curled in a half-smile at the joke, but I couldn’t bring myself to share it. Not with the pressure we were under.

I glanced toward the tree line, watching as the shadows deepened and the air around the village started to hum with a muted and faint frequency. A change was coming, but was it simply the down time Sadie and Damon spoke of? Or was it a land shift?

“It cuts fate,” I said quietly.

Meera blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Wyrd Reaper. It’s a god-blade. Created by Amoret herself. It’s said to sever destinies.”

“Does it?” she asked.

I lifted my shoulder. “No idea. I use it to remove heads from bodies, so I suppose that is severing one’s destiny. Can’t have one if you’re dead.”

Meera snorted. “You sound like my brothers right now.”

“I imagine they are right every now and then.”

She chuckled. “So do you always carry around ... god-blades?”

I cocked my head. “Just these two. Hex Cleaver, because it’s useful. Wyrd Reaper ...” How did I explain the complicated history that belonged to this blade? “The last person to carry it was my father. I like to think that in using it, I’m righting the wrongs.”

“That’s very ... noble,” she paused. “I’m surprised you didn’t have it melted down instead, given your relationship with your father.”

“I hated him,” I said bluntly. “But I can’t change who he was or what he did. All I can do is be better, do better, and hope that it wipes some of the red out of my family ledger.”

Her lips pressed together in a sympathetic smile. “It’s not your job to wipe it out.”

I shrugged. “If I don’t, no one will. My family fucked over an entire realm and a half. Reparations must be paid. Besides, you can’t simply unmake a god-blade.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re sentient, in a way. It comes from the power that gods used to create them. Trying to unmake one is a great way to end up on the sharp end of its curse.”

Sadie’s voice interrupted before Meera could ask more. “If you two are done comparing magical cutlery, some of us are still prepping to avoid becoming the next course.”

“You two were literally just arguing about everything while we made plans to leave,” Meera said, “so sue me if we were talking about weapons.”

“We were still listening to you.” Sadie scoffed and held up a pouch.

“Food for maybe two days between the four of us. Fruit won’t travel well, so we need to eat that first. The cheese will be okay for a day, and the bread will be stale, but we’ll have something.

I have some flint. A few herbs. And this,” she said, patting her boot, “for motivational stabbing.”

“We should fill up our canteens too,” Meera added, taking ours and handing them over to Damon.

He took them and casually went to a table, filling them from a pastel pink pitcher.

After capping them off, he slipped the straps over his head crossbody style and refilled a wine goblet to avert any suspicions.

“We should learn each other’s abilities,” I said when he returned, taking the sack from Meera and tucking it into her backpack. “Assuming your magic still works in this realm. It will help to know what each of us can do in a life-or-death situation.”

“Mine are simple,” Sadie offered, twirling a dagger between her fingers before sheathing it in one fluid motion. “I’m all redcap. You probably already figured that out.”

“Yeah,” Damon muttered. “The homicidal edge gave it away.”

She grinned without apology. “What can I say? It’s part of the package. We don’t have flashy magic, but battlelust is a real thing. If my eyes turn red, you should run and leave the fighting to me. I won’t be able to differentiate between friend and foe.”

“Good to know,” I said. “Do you have any minor abilities? I know some redcaps do and some don’t.”