T he human knelt before Caduan’s throne, his head lowered. He seemed highly out of place in this room, the jewel of Ela’Dar’s palace—vast and
stately, with walls of glass and a copper-cradled ceiling many stories high. Unlike most guests who bowed here, this man was not swathed in silks and furs but in dirty, torn rags of many contrasting styles, as if each piece had been stolen off a different corpse. His hands and ankles were bound, though this did not seem to bother him.
“I am certain, your majesty.”
He looked up at Caduan, revealing a lined, scarred face, a bald head, and a generous grey beard.
Caduan leaned forward. “And how did you hear of this?”
“I didn’t need to hear of it. I saw it.” He tapped the corner of one drooping eye. “Wasn’t hard to find them. They stood out. Fragmented Valtain girl. The two Farliones. And their winged friend—like you.” He jerked his chin to Meajqa. “Tall. Hair prettier than any woman’s.”
Caduan and Meajqa exchanged a glance. Ishqa.
“Very well.” Caduan rose. He swayed slightly in the movement. He had not been well since the battle at Malakahn, and though I knew he tried to hide it, I saw his pain in every movement. I watched him so closely, after all, during our many long hours of training. These days, I likely spent more time with him than anyone else did, even Meajqa or Luia.
Caduan had, it seemed, taken my words from the battlefield to heart— we will be better. He threw that promise at me hour after hour as we trained. Caduan taught like he sparred, the graceful strikes of a rapier replaced with calm, sharp words. You must be better, Aefe.
It did not feel like an admonishment under Caduan’s tutelage. It felt like encouragement. Once, I had told Caduan that no one had ever given me the opportunity to be better. Now I strove for it with every passing hour.
Caduan stood before the human and eyed him warily. “I trust that your information is correct.”
I let out a breath without meaning to.
I had listened to this man with my eyes slowly growing wider. At night, I had been waking up with odd dreams, dreams of forests and, later, of ruins, still grey water and broken walls of stone.
Now it all made sense.
This man was telling us that Tisaanah and Maxantarius had been barely south of here as little as two days ago. Perhaps they were even closer now. In fact, I was almost certain they were. The dreams had been growing more vivid. Hours ago, I had awoken from a dream of a forest breaking into a lake, the silhouette of a crumbling palace, and the bitter pang of heartbreak.
This was on the tip of my tongue as Caduan stepped past me to stand before the human.
I had to give the man credit. It took a brave human to stare down the king of the Fey.
“You look as if you have something more to say,” Caduan said.
“Many are paying generously for this information,” the human replied. “The Aran queen, too.”
“And you believe yourself to be doing a favor to the Fey by bringing it to us instead.” Caduan cocked his head. “Speaking of which, tell me, how did you find your way here to Ela’Dar?”
“I have half-breed friends in Zagos.”
“And why are your half-breed friends—” Caduan diced the term into pointed syllables. “—not here with you?”
The human shrugged. “Didn’t want to come.”
Lies. Humans always lie. They lie like they breathe. This man’s “half- breed friends” were at the bottom of the Zagos river somewhere, throats slashed and limbs weighed down with stones. I was certain of it.
Caduan glanced at me, then back to the human. “What were you expecting from us for this?”
The human smiled. “A token of appreciation.”
“You come to us with this information. Sneak into our palace. See the inner workings of our city. And you expect me to hand you a pile of gold
and send you on your way?”
The human’s smile withered. The realization fell over his face slowly. He had made a crucial miscalculation. He thought that coming to the Fey would allow him to instigate a bidding war for this information. Why sell it to the Fey when he could sell it to the Arans, the Threllians, and the Fey?
“You lie.” I stood. The words slipped from my lips without my permission.
Fear had now settled over the human’s face. “Tell us where they went,” Caduan said.
“F-For a—”
“For what? For a gift? No. You do not get any gifts.”
Caduan beckoned, and with that movement alone, the man began to choke, as if Caduan was yanking the air from his breath.
“Speak. Tell us where they went.”
“North,” he choked. “They went north. Two days.”
Caduan nodded. Dropped his hand. He approached the man and, for a moment, smiled down at him, stroking his face.
“Thank you,” he said.
The man let out a ragged sigh of relief.
Then a sickening SNAP echoed through the room. The human collapsed to the ground, his neck twisted backwards at an unnatural angle.
Caduan stepped over the body to me, taking my hand in his. He didn’t need to say a word. I knew what he was asking.
“The dreams match,” I said. “He is right.”
Caduan squeezed my fingers before releasing them and turning to Meajqa.
“Meajqa, go to Luia. We need to prepare the army.” “The army? For four people?”
“We can’t be under prepared. It has long been suspected that Niraja has access points to the pools of deep magic within it. I was never able to find it… but…” He trailed off, then looked at me. “If something is there, we will need you to find it. Potentially even to harness it.”
Months ago, I would have railed against this statement. I would have thrown it in his face like a dagger, ripped him apart with claims that he was using me, that I was nothing but his weapon.
But this was different. The world fell away but for this and the way he looked at me.
I understood now.
This was not him wielding me. This was him handing me the means to be something more. This was him trusting me with power. Putting himself at my feet, even though he was the king, even though I owed him my life.
It was not a command. It was an offer. I nodded. “I am ready.”
