Page 19

Valen

Wren is oblivious to Gensted’s ire and Daroose’s scowl. And, somehow, she doesn’t seem to pick up on the fact that Tania wants nothing more than to skin her alive. The guards brought us to the main house and gave us bandages and clean water. We cleaned up as best we could, doing our best to hide anything that might catch anyone’s attention. Tania even added extra bandages to her arms and left leg to make it look like she’d gotten the brunt of it.

Being a frail human and all.

“Remember, anything you experience is very temporary,” I say to Wren.

She’s focused on the small stone in my hand. Her drive for power is unnerving, but it’s also the thing that will get her to agree to help us. We survived the Pit, and the Spring Fae seem placated. All that’s left are the final details.

“I understand.” Her eyes sparkle. She’s shuffling from foot to foot, eager. Gods. She’s all but drooling. “Please. Show me.”

I hold it out to her. “Wrap this stone in your fist and squeeze while thinking of your court, of all the things that once made it great.”

She does as I ask, closing her eyes. I hadn’t needed to do it with Gensted, and I’m glad. The draw on my magic is sudden and sharp, and it steals the air from my lungs. While not nearly as painful as the panashere sessions Liani forced me through, this takes me by surprise.

Tania watches me, eyes narrowed. “Are you okay?”

I grab the small table to my left and force my breathing to even out. Yeah. I just—I feel her channeling my magic through the stone. It’s…strange.

Several moments tick by before the ground rumbles for a second, then goes silent. Several of the weeds poking through the foundation in the corner of the room surge, growing larger and brighter before receding back into the stone.

Wren opens her eyes and laughs. “Gods, it’s true!”

“And temporary,” I repeat carefully. “I can make it permanent only if you return with us to the Winter estate.”

She hands the stone back but doesn’t say a word. There’s a faraway look in her eyes, and she’s staring down at her hands, moving her fingers one by one.

“The relationship we all have with Winter is…rocky,” Gensted says. “But I believe Valen is unlike the previous rulers. He surrounds himself with honorable companions, and if he has their loyalty, then I give him mine—as should you.”

“And why should I take your word for it?” She fixes Gensted with a steely glare. “Autumn and Spring have as rocky a history as Spring and Winter. What makes you different from your predecessors?”

“All our predecessors made grave mistakes,” he says. “They fostered hostile relations and closed borders. I believe, as Valen does, that it’s time for things to change.”

The answer seems to placate her. “And if I agree to come with you, you’ll help me regain Spring magic?”

“As long as you agree to use it to fight beside us, yes.”

Wren might put on a show for the Spring Fae, but she’s clearly hungry for power. I believe she’ll use it to better her people, but a small part of me is concerned. How can I force her—or any of them—to stand with us once they’ve gotten what they came for? I’m not as worried about Gensted. His word is his bond. But Wren? I can’t be one hundred percent sure she’ll honor any deal we make.

“There’s also one additional thing we need to discuss.” Tania glances at Daroose.

Wren frowns. “And that is?”

Tania hesitates, then points to the bridle around Wren’s neck. “The bridle belonging to the kelpie who protects your borders.”

Wren jabs a finger at Tania’s neck. “A bit of a hypocritical request, don’t you think, druid?”

“I realize it may seem that way, but I was actually given this bridle by its owner to save its life.”

“A kelpie would never willingly part with its bridle.” She clutches the strand of jewels. “I fought hard for this. It’s what earned me the nomination as leader.”

Daroose lets out a growl. “You fought for it? And how many of your disgusting little Fae did it take to pry it off that poor kelpie’s neck?”

“I took the beast down on my own. I outwitted the foolish thing.” Wren puffs out her chest, pride gleaming in her eyes. “What do you care?”

The kelpie draws himself up and leans in close. I was raised to fear these creatures. To mistrust and loathe them. While I haven’t completely changed my mind, Daroose has proven to be slightly less vile than the stories had me believe. He’s pompous with an overinflated ego and, in my opinion, an overblown sense of self-worth. But he’s never truly scared me.

Until now.

“If you do not return the bridle,” he says in a low, dangerous tone, “I will tear your heart out and eat it as the light fades from your eyes.”

Tania rests a hand on Daroose’s shoulder and gently tugs him back. She absently fingers her own necklace. “I don’t use the bridle to command the kelpie. And you shouldn’t, either.”

Wren stares at her. “Kelpies are vicious monsters. They’re little more than savages.”

Tania shakes her head. “Again, that’s not true.”

“In this case, it’s true.” Daroose licks his lips. “I’m more than happy to demonstrate. Do you think they have any cream sauce around here?”

Tania flashes Daroose a stern glare.

“While it pains me more than you know, I have to agree,” I say. Daroose is a pain in my ass, but he’s grown on me—like bad fungus. “Daroose is mostly civilized.”

Wren’s eyes widen and she snaps her attention from me to Daroose. “You—you’re—”

“The kelpie in question?” He smiles. “Yes. Would you like to remove your heart, or shall I do it for you?”

Tania steps in front of him. “What will it take for you to part with the bridle?”

“There’s nothing you can offer to replace it. I need the kelpie. That thing is the only reason we’ve stayed hidden all these years. The path over the mountain collapsed during the war. The lake you saw was little more than a puddle back then, but during a hunt outside our borders for food, we discovered the kelpie. I stole its bridle and relocated it here. Now, even the depleted can’t touch us.”

“Obviously it’s not foolproof,” Gensted says. “After all, we got through.”

Wren considers this. “A fluke, I’m sure. I’d need something to replace it. Another means of protecting my people—especially if I’m to leave with you.”

“The lake isn’t enough?” Tania rolls her eyes. “The only reason we found you is because the kelpie pulled us under. Otherwise, we never would have known you were here.”

“It’s too big a risk,” Wren says. “I’ve worked too hard—sacrificed too much of myself to make things as they are. I won’t risk losing it.”

I have an idea…but I’m not sure you can do it.

“At the risk of sounding like you, I can do anything.”

I resist a laugh. What if you created a barrier made of bramble?

“A plant wall?”

Something like that. Trees, thick vines. Thorns. Something impassable. Think you could do it?

“Probably. It will take a lot of power. There are risks. There’s always a chance Aphelian might feel it if we pull on that much druid magic.”

That’s possible?

“I’m honestly not sure. Remember, she has more magic than the rest of us. There’s no telling how strong she truly is. She might know where we are, what we’re doing…”

It’s not ideal, but we don’t seem to have another choice. Wren won’t leave without knowing her home is safe, and I won’t double-cross Emian. I think it’s a chance we need to take. Besides, I’m not sure it even matters. We might not know exactly what Aphelian is up to, but we do know it’s far more insidious than revenge. She’s not going to jeopardize her plans at this point.

“But how would they get in and out? I assume they need to leave the village from time to time…”

So we dig a tunnel. Kind of like they’re using in the Autumn Court.

“First of all, I don’t see you getting your hands dirty—not to mention we really don’t have the time.”

We don’t, I agree. Which is why we get the animals to help.

“That’s kind of brilliant.”

Of course it is. It was my idea. Aren’t you lucky I’m smart and sexy?

“Don’t push it.”

Tania crosses to one of the cracks in the wall and plucks a piece of the vine poking through. Several seconds tick by before it starts to twitch and twist, a small offshoot growing from the main vine. A blue flower blooms, petals yawning open and elongating into what looks like a thick rope. “I think we might have a solution…”

…

Wren begrudgingly gives Emian her bridle back and makes arrangements to take a leave of absence from the Spring Court. She tells her people that it’s all a ruse so she can steal my magic, then assures them she will return powerful and ready to lead them into a bright future. She assures me that, like most other things she does, it’s for show, but I’m not sure I completely believe her. For now, though, we have no choice but to go with it—while keeping a close eye on her.

It takes both Tania and me to create the wall on the other side of the lake on our way out. An assortment of forest critters gathered to dig the new tunnel, and even though Wren was hesitant to leave before it was finished, the lure of magic was too enticing.

By nightfall the next day, we’ve made it several miles outside the Spring Lands and decide to stop and set up camp.

“I assume we’re heading to the Summer Court now?” Wren warms her hands by the fire. Tania hadn’t wanted to light one, but the Spring monarch insisted it was safe. Knowing Tania, she won’t sleep a wink tonight.

“Ugh.” Daroose stretches and leans back, crossing his legs at the ankle. “Summer Fae were the worst. If I recall correctly, all they did was crow about their wealth and their looks. The Stormwarder line was among the vainest Fae I’ve ever met—and that’s saying something.”

“Hopefully there are some of them still out there,” I say, uncurling my legs.

“You say hopefully.” Daroose shrugs. “I say hopefully not. Though, surprisingly, their flesh was among the sweetest. I remember an aftertaste like fresh berries—”

Tania groans. She’s on the other side of the fire, watching the tree line.

Seems like you’re back to your old self. Stoic and ready for trouble.

She doesn’t look at me. “As opposed to?”

Well, earlier you were acting like, well…

“You?”

You’re cute and all, but it would be impossible for you to be as charming as I am. Not to mention sexy.

Amusement filters down the link. “Good to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

I sigh. If we find the Summer Court and manage to convince them to help us, we’ll be heading home. The thought of returning home is almost painful. It’s been nice having our freedom out here. Going back to the way things were will be even harder than before.

“That’s a good thing.” The smallest whisper of sadness flickers between us, but it’s there and gone too fast for me to be sure. “We’ve been gone almost two weeks. By the time we get back, that will give us less than two months to do the transfer—and hope it works—then train everyone.”

Her concern is like a blade to my chest, but I don’t answer. I know how she feels. But it will be enough time.

It has to be.