11. Veyka

"This is not the way to Eilean Gayl."

The crumple of maps should have been my first clue.

I'd seen her sketching them out on the paper gifted to her by the Faeries of the Fen before departing their cave city. Cyara was a librarian's daughter, through and through. And so damn clever. No wonder she and Parys had become allies.

I put aside the thought of my smiling friend, acknowledged the wave of thankfulness that he was safe in Baylaur.

"We need to make a slight detour," I said as we circled the lake. The same route I'd taken nights before, jump by jump, now walking. Even with the speed of our fae legs, it felt impossibly slow.

Cyara let out a controlled exhale behind me. "Back to the faerie caves to retrieve Osheen and Maisri?"

I couldn't fail to note the change in pitch, the hope in those words that she tried and failed to disguise. Faithful. Above all, Cyara was faithful. Even when I did not want to hear what she had to say, she always spoke with truth and love.

What had I ever done to deserve her?

Any of them, really.

At my right, two steps ahead of me, positioned so that the lakeshore was on one side and she was on the other, Lyrena's entire body was primed for movement. Alert, scanning, assessing every blade of grass or whipping willow vine.

"Not yet," I said. Not until I was certain of what we were walking into, of our safety. Arran laid unconscious in Avalon because I hadn't taken my time; because I'd rushed headlong into danger.

I should have checked the clearing. Should have formed a perimeter, explored the area around Avalon, before standing exposed on that lakeshore and asking Morgyn stupid questions she only half answered.

My fault.

I would not lose another person I loved because of my temper, my brashness. My selfishness.

He is not lost.

I shivered, the ice that filled my chest reminding me not to think. Not about Arran. Not if I had any chance of holding myself together.

I shook myself again, this time to regain control. "Lyrena, how's your tracking?"

"Not as good as a wolf."

She didn't mean it. It was a joke. Always a joke.

Shit, shit, shit.

I ground my teeth together hard enough I was sure they would crack. I reached for my dagger in the scabbard at my waist. Began searching out targets. Something, I needed to hurl it at something—

Thunk.

I barely registered the feeling of the wolf-pommel in my hand before it was gone, flying through the air, landing fifty yards away. Lodged directly in the knot of a tree stump.

I blinked. I'd never thrown that far. Never hit a target that far.

I watched in open-mouthed silence as Lyrena cut to the side. She exchanged a look with Cyara, who stepped up to my side, white wings flaring. Taking on guard duty.

Lyrena walked with unflinching precision. Wrenched the knife free. Walked back to me. Sank to her knees. When she lifted her eyes, the apology was there. I wanted to tell her I did not need one. That having her at my side was enough. That I appreciated her loyalty and laughter and joy.

But I said none of that. The ice inside of me wouldn't allow it. Ice was strong. But it could be melted.

I sheathed the dagger. Dropped my chin a fraction of an inch.

Lyrena rose, stepping up in front of me as Cyara fell back to guard my rear. Asinine, considering that of the three of us I was the superior warrior. But I was also their queen. I knew that both of these females would give their lives to slow down an attacker, to give me time to jump away through the void.

Another shiver of ice through my veins.

"My skills are adequate. My Goldstones training included tracking would-be attackers," Lyrena said before turning to resume our path along the edge of the lake. "What are we tracking?"

"Hunting," I corrected. "We are going to hunt down the one who betrayed us. And this time I won't be stupid enough to fall for his tricks."