Page 33

I pointed down a hill into a valley that held at least ten homes. “Alastor, look! One of them has to have horses.”

He sighed. “I’m not saying horses are a bad idea, Callista. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up. Elves don’t lend horses to strangers, especially strangers like us.”

“That’s not necessarily true. I know at least half a dozen elves who would lend me horses.”

“They wouldn’t be random elves, then. You’re thinking of friends.”

“Fair enough. But let’s at least go into the valley with some optimism.” I needed to be hopeful. We were only two or three miles inside Sirun’s magical barrier. Based on the two times I’d flown to the castle, I suspected we still had twenty or thirty miles to go. That was three or four days walking… or a couple hours on horses.

I needed horses. The thought of Guyan setting up whatever plans he had for killing Aedan twisted my stomach so hard it hurt to breathe.

We reached the valley just before sunset. Aedan would be shifting out of his drekkan form at any moment. Was Guyan planning on attacking him while he was an elf or a giant reptile? And would Guyan actually attack him? I hadn’t seen him use magic yet. As Aedan’s cousin, he should be strong—a quarter fae, just like Aedan. But maybe he’d try something more sneaky like poison? Or more traditional like a blow to the head when he wasn’t expecting it?

The possibilities were too awful. I needed to focus on getting us there and warning Aedan. He could find a way to protect himself once he knew.

Alastor tossed a rock up in the air and caught it. “So, what’s your plan? Knock on every door and ask if they’ll let us borrow some horses?”

“Maybe?”

He laughed. “That’s a terrible plan. Let’s see if they have a pub. We can get a feel for who’s most likely to lend their horses to complete strangers.”

I glared at him. “Don’t say it like that. It makes it sound so impossible.”

He raised his brows as if to suggest that it really was impossible, but a few minutes later he’d found this little town’s version of a tavern. It was small—most likely someone’s home who had set up the ground level as a large dining room. A second level had flowers in window baskets, and a small slate propped up on the porch listed today’s menu: potato soup with sausage.

“What is with the soup everywhere today?” Alastor muttered. “I’ve had more delicious food at elves’ tables than I ever expected, but today? Just soup.”

I stepped up to the door. “I like soup.”

Alastor reached around me and opened the door.

I’d been right about the house. The dining room had obviously been built as a large sitting room, but now three small tables and two large ones filled up the space. Each table had at least one person at it, and most had small groups. When we stepped inside, everyone turned to us, and all the conversations ended.

A short elf with an apron bustled out of the kitchen, set a bowl of bread on the large table, and then turned to look at us with everyone else. “Well,” she announced, “it’s rare to see a stranger here, and even rarer for her to bring a human. What’s your story?”

I walked away from the door and right up to the closest table. This was my chance. I had at least fifteen elves as a ready audience, and any of them might have horses for us. I clenched my hand and remembered all the times I’d argued with the king during the last few months. I could convince at least one of these elves to help me.

I channeled any firehawk inside me, and opened my mouth. “My name is Callista, and my story is long and complicated. The short version is that I have spent the last few months at the fortress in Sirun, and we’ve just found out about a plot to attack the king. We’re trying to get back to the fortress as quickly as we can to warn him, but it’s going to take us days on foot. Do any of you have horses we can borrow? We can bring them back tomorrow.”

At first, I was met with silence and blank stares. Some of those stares shifted into incredulous looks, which then turned into chuckles, eye-rolls, and even some outright laughs. Soon the entire room was laughing like I’d told an incredible joke.

My hands flew to my hips. “What is wrong with all of you? I’m trying to save the king, and you just laugh?”

The elf with the apron wiped her eyes. “Oh, honey. You’re going to have to do better than that. The people in this valley have been through a lot the last few years, and they’re not going to fall for a horse thief with a story like that—”

Heat rushed through my face as my jaw fell. “I am not a horse thief!”

She laughed again. “Right. And I don’t sell drinks.” The room lit up in more snickers and guffaws.

“But I’m not! I’m trying to save the king!” How could I make them believe me?

“Look, sweetie,” the cook said. “You need to drop the act. You’re cute, so it’s not likely these elves will hurt you, but I can’t say the same for your human. Eventually, the humor wears off, and we’re left with thieves trying to trick us into handing over our horses.”

How could this have gone so wrong?

“She’s a little too cute.” A big elf with muscles pushing the seams of his tunic glared at me. “I think we should put her to work to pay for her crimes. Let’s see how nimble her thieving fingers are after she scrubs dishes all night.”

“She could haul wood too. I have a downed tree from the storm last week—make her clear it out piece by piece,” another elf called.

“Make her gather stones for my new wall.”

“I’ll give her a shovel and make her dig holes. Giver her some sore muscles and dirt on her face.”

The room erupted into laughter again, and Alastor put a hand on my shoulder. “Come on. This isn’t going to get better.”

I shook him off and raised my voice. “You’re all wrong! How will you feel if you grind my face to the ground today and then hear about the king’s death tomorrow? Or in a week? Knowing you could have stopped it!”

“See,” the big elf said, “this is your biggest problem. If you’d really spent any time in the fortress, you would know that the king can take care of himself. He’s more powerful than a dozen elves, and he spends half his time as a monster. He has the leniency of a starving tick in a pool of blood. If someone tried to attack him, they’d be dead before they knew what had happened.”

I shook my head. “Not if the person attacking him was someone he trusted. Someone he let get close to him and someone he would hesitate to destroy because he just couldn’t really believe they’d turn on him.”

The big elf shook his head and stood up. “There are only two people that even come close to that relationship with the king, and they’re both trapped outside the barrier.” He moved closer to me. “And you need to go before I decide to actually grind your face into the ground.”

Alastor stepped in front of me. “Sit down. We’ll go.”

A gleam lit the big elf’s eyes in a dangerous way. “Now you, human, I don’t have any reservations about hitting—”

I shoved my way in between them. “Stop. Please! Both of you.” I stared up at the big elf, wishing I had his name. “The king’s cousins were supposed to be outside the barrier, but one of them got in. And if we don’t—”

My voice caught. “Please. What would it take to convince you?”

His eyes narrowed. “Either you care far more than you should or you are a much better actor than your first introduction made you appear.”

I pushed back tears, refusing to let them fall here. “It’s the first, but I don’t care more than I should. I care exactly the right amount.”

A tension filled the room, as if this elf, with his towering figure and terrifying muscles, held the entire valley’s opinion in his hands. He was the one I needed to convince. He might not give me horses, but nobody else would without his approval either.

“Please.” I stepped closer to him. “Ask me anything. Put me under a compulsion to tell the truth. Bind me to a promise. Whatever it takes to convince you.” I had another idea. “Or don’t believe me. Come with us. Watch me speak to the king tonight and bring your horses back tomorrow.”

I closed the last remaining space between us. He could grab me now. “If you don’t trust me,” I whispered, “tie a rope to my wrist. I swear I’m not trying to steal anything or trick anyone. I just need to warn the king.”

His eyes flicked to the dagger I still had belted at my waist. “Which cousin?”

“Guyan.”

His eyes narrowed. “And why the human?”

I forced a smile. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Fine.” He didn’t sound pleased, but I didn’t need him to be happy. “I’ll come with you. And I’m tying you to my horse.” I didn’t even care. I just needed the horse.

He waved at the lady with the apron. “I’ll pay you when I get back, Willow.”

She laughed. “Off with you then, Lyam. Go save the king.”

We followed Lyam silently down a dirt road while the pale remnants of sunlight disappeared. When we turned a corner, Lyam looked over his shoulder to make sure we were still behind him. At the same time, another elf ran toward us and crashed into him.

Lyam’s solid block of muscle knocked her backward to the ground. He bent over and offered her a hand. “Salor. I apologize. I—”

“Oh, no Lord Lyam, it was my fault for running,” she interrupted, apologizing faster.

Wait. “Salor?” I asked, stepping closer to see better.

She waved her hand and a floating light orb landed above our heads. “Callista!”

I nearly tripped in my effort to run into her hug. “What are you doing here?” we both asked at the same time, and then broke into giggles.

She waved down the street we’d turned onto. “This is where my father lives. Broomden’s been giving us one day off in ten, so I saved up for a month and came out for four days.” Her eyes skittered to Lyam and Alastor. “Your turn.”

I scowled. “One day in ten is not very many.”

She dusted a spot of dirt on her skirt. “It’s better than before I talked to you and His Majesty. Now you.”

I wanted to give her all the details, but I wanted to make sure Aedan was safe first. “It’s a long story.” I took her hands. “And I’ll tell it all to you, but right now we need to get back to the castle. I just found out about a plot that Guyan has to hurt Ae—the king—and I want to warn him before anything happens.”

Her voice tightened. “Guyan always seemed a little too perfect.” She glanced at Lyam, but then faced me. “Should I come with you? I don’t know if I’ll be any help, but I hate sending you alone.”

“She’s not going alone,” Lyam answered. “I’ll go with her. And she has her human.”

“Alastor,” my brother sighed. “ Her human has a name, and it is Alastor.”

Salor’s jaw fell. “Is he your—”

“Yes,” I cut her off. I threw a sideways glance at Lyam and hoped she’d interpret it as a hint that I did not want to tell Lyam any more details about us.

“Wow,” she breathed, just before gripping my shoulders in another hug. “I won’t slow you down, but you must tell me everything when I get back.”

She picked up a bag that had fallen to the ground during our conversation and ran off again.

Lyam stared at me. “You know Salor.”

I nodded. “She works at the castle. Does… that improve my believability?”

He smirked, and the shadows on his face suggested a little humor behind his intense stare. “How about I let you ride without tying you to the horse?”