Chapter 32

UNA

"I don't fucking like it." Goll glowered down at my book spread out on the conference table. " Where the Meer-wolf reigns ," he repeated the last of the prophecy.

"So we're heading into beast fae territory," said Morgolith.

Bozlyn studied the prophecy closer, the book in his lap. He sat before the fire in the war room yet again where we'd convened after Goll and I had bathed, eaten, and rested.

Interestingly, I wasn't tired. Rather, I was invigorated by the ability to fly yet again. Well, sort of. I could fly in short bursts.

"It appears the next text is written in someone's blood," advised Bozlyn. "Perhaps a Meer-wolf."

"The gods and their fucking riddles," grumbled Soryn. "Why not just tell us directly what they want? Go here and find this. No, we have to decipher these bloody riddles."

Goll and Soryn were both in a temper. Neither were happy about venturing into beast fae territory. Goll's foul look focused on me, and for a moment I thought he'd go back on his word and refuse to take me again. But he said not a word, stewing in his own thoughts.

"You'll have to go to their king in Vanglosa," said Morgolith. "They won't allow us to roam around their land unguarded."

Confused, I asked Goll, "They won't allow their king to go where he wants?"

There were a few sighs and shared looks. But it was Goll who said, "The dark fae are not like the light. In Issos, the royals in Valla Lokkyr ruled all of Lumeria. And while I, the wraith king, do speak for and rule the civilized world of Northgall, as well as Lumeria, the beast and shadow fae count themselves separate from us."

"I thought"—I stumbled over my words a little—"I thought the dark fae were united in this realm."

"We are not, I'm afraid." Bozlyn shook his gray-haired head before returning back to my book, flipping the pages. "Never have been."

"So will they attack us if we go onto their land?" Panic spiked at the thought of having to fight our way through beast fae land. Goll had said they were unfriendly, not truly enemies.

"No," answered Goll. "But we'll have to deal with that bastard of a beast lord."

Soryn grumbled a curse under his breath, then, "I hate that fae."

Keffa laughed. "He doesn't like us either. Best go to the armory and find a gift to bribe our passage into Meerland."

"Mizrah?" Bozlyn was frowning down at the book. "Where did this prophecy come from?"

I stood and walked over to lean over his shoulder. "Oh. That one actually was given to me personally, strangely enough."

"Given to you?" asked Goll. "You said that you'd collected them from the temple in Issos."

"Most of them, yes. But the one about the beast fae and the third text came from a scribe in Mevia."

"Where's the third text?" asked Keffa.

I brightened, happy there was no vagueness at all in that one. It told us exactly where to find the third god-touched text. "Solzkin's Heart."

"Fucking hells. Now we have to go into shadow fae lands?" Soryn looked more annoyed and grumblier than before. "They're worse than dealing with the beast fae."

"That is certain," griped Goll, glancing at me yet again like it was my fault we had to go there.

Well, I suppose it was. I simply smiled back.

Goll shook his head and turned to Morgolith. "Do you think any will be on guard as far down the mountain as Solzkin's Heart?"

"It's possible. That's well within their lands."

"Fuck," cursed Soryn.

"Language, Soryn," growled Goll, which only made me smile since he certainly didn't worry about his own coarse language in front of me. And Soryn had been cursing up a storm since he'd first heard we were heading into beast fae lands.

"But this one here…" Bozlyn looked up at me, his orange irises shining by the firelight as he pointed at the last vision I'd scribed in my book. "Where did it come from? Why did you copy it?"

I blinked down, remembering. "We had traveled to Myrkovir Forest for the Fall Solstice. Baelynn had thought it a sign of good will if we attended on my twentieth year. The war had begun to encroach farther south, and the wood fae who reside there were becoming afraid."

Keffa shifted uncomfortably near the fire. I didn't need to explain that the wood fae feared the wraith fae invading our lands.

"We passed through a village on the edge of the forest, the homes in the trees decorated with lights for the celebration. I stopped our caravan at one inn that appeared more beautiful than the others, a table of sweet squash pies there for the offering. As Baelynn, the guardsmen, and I enjoyed the pies and music, there were two wood fae sisters serving us. The inn was their father's. He talked to Baelynn, while his daughters did the serving. But I found it peculiar that one sister didn't look like a wood fae."

"How do you mean?" asked Bozlyn, his intensity more earnest as I told the story.

"She had the white hair"—I touched my own hair trailing over my shoulder— "and the violet eyes of a moon fae. But she had no wings."

"A half-breed," commented Soryn.

"Yes. Undoubtedly."

I didn't know if she'd had a different father or a mother from her sister, but the sisters seemed fond of one another of what I'd observed that day.

"As their villagers played music and danced in front of the inn," I continued, "I'd taken to rest near a large oak tree where the white-haired sister leaned and watched the merriment. Her name was Murgha," I remembered.

She was a sweet-faced, kind fae with a soft voice.

"We talked for a time about the harvest, how it had been a good year despite the rumblings of war. She told me their village was likely to leave for a while." I recalled the look of wonder come over her face as she gazed up at the moon shining through the branches of the oak trees. "Then she told me she needed to tell me something though she wasn't sure why. Her eyes went glassy, and she spouted that vision right there."

Bozlyn looked back down at the page. But it was Goll who spoke first when he commanded, "Read it, Bozlyn."

The elder wraith fae cleared his throat then read, "The world will wail for many seasons and many reasons. Sickness, rebellion, and madness will prevail. Then the dark will steal the light, setting the pale world right. The beast will catch the water maid, foiling plans the rebel laid. And the shadow will swallow the secret queen when true evil is freed. This will come to pass, or all will fall. All will fail. And the gods die with the living."

No one said a word, then Soryn huffed a breath. "Well, that sounds promising," he snarked.

Goll shifted away from the fireplace. "Look, we know the gods spout their wills and their woes all day long through oracles. Some come to fruition. Some do not. Some are important. Some are not. Right now, all I'm interested in is packing up and heading to Vanglosa so we can get what we need and then get the hell back here. Morgolith"—he turned to the barrel-chested giant—"you're coming with us. If we have to deal with any of the shadow fae, I'll need you there."

"Yes, Sire."

"Keffa and Soryn, prepare the Culled. Then everyone get some sleep. We ride out early in the morning."

They all grumbled assent and headed for the door. Goll seemed agitated. My need to console him drove me closer to him. Then the doors opened.

"Speaking of oracles," Keffa called back, stepping aside to allow Dalya to walk through the door.

"Good," said Goll more to himself. "Glad you're here," he said tightly with more formality than how he spoke to Dalya in the past.

Dalya sashayed across the room, wearing a thicker fur-lined black cloak. The weather was dipping colder. She bowed elegantly to both Goll and I.

"My king. My mizrah."

"Thank you for coming." Goll stepped closer to me, a hand sliding to my opposite hip. "We'll be journeying into Meerland, and I'll need you to come with us."

Her eyes rounded for a moment, then she glanced at me. "Meerland, Sire? For what purpose?"

"That is not your concern. We may need a healer, and I'd like you to be close at hand."

I hadn't known Dalya had the healing gift. Of course, it wasn't uncommon for oracles to have both the sight and the magick of healing. I remembered Vayla again.

"Of course, Sire. Whatever you wish."

"That is all."

"Yes, my king." Her voice seemed softer, almost timid. Then she quickly left.

"Why didn't you tell her why we're going to Meerland?" I asked.

"Because I don't want anyone knowing what we're doing. Only those who need to know."

"Like your Culled?"

He wrapped his hands around my waist, pulling my body against his, gazing intently at me. "The Culled don't need to know either. Those who just left this room are the ones I trust the most."

I toyed with a silky strand of his black hair. "I suppose we're off in the morning to Meerland then."

"The sooner we leave, the sooner we can return to N?kt Mir." He scowled. "And why are you smiling like that?"

"I've never met a beast fae. I'm excited to see a part of the world I never did as a sheltered Issosian royal."

He clenched me tighter. "I don't know if I like that you're excited to meet the beast fae."

"Are you jealous, King Gollaya?" I trailed a finger along his clenched jaw.

"Always." He dipped his mouth to my neck and kissed his way up the column. "I'm jealous of anyone and everyone who garners your attention."

Joy bubbled in my belly at his easy admission. "That's ridiculous. You're jealous of Hava?"

"Yes." More kisses to the other side. I bent my neck for him. "She has the privilege of bathing and dressing you nightly."

"You could take that job if you like."

He lifted his head, those dragon eyes blazing with desire.

When he said nothing, I added, "I believe you told me once that you were king and could do what you liked."

"I did." His hands coasted down my hips. "You would let me dismiss your handmaidens and attend to your toilette?"

I laced my fingers into his hair and curled my hands around his thicker horns, shivering at the thought of him bathing me. "Who wouldn't want a virile king as her handmaiden?"

His smile widened. "I believe it's almost time for bed now, is it not?"

"It is early afternoon." I grinned. "You have some kingly duties you must do first. I heard Keffa mention a guild master from Silvantis requesting to speak to you as we walked into the room."

"No. You misheard." He coasted a hand up my spine and twined my hair around his fist.

I laughed. "I did not."

"Keffa can handle the guild master. Let's go and get your bath."

"Goll. We haven't even eaten dinner yet."

"I prefer to eat you first. Then we'll have trays sent up."

I squeezed my thighs at the thought of that.

"Come." His nostrils flared before he stepped away. He took my hand and led me toward the door. "We'll be sleeping in tents again tomorrow night, and I want to enjoy you in our bed for as long as I can."

"I suppose I have no choice in the matter," I teased.

"Your king commands, Mizrah." He stopped at the door, cupping my cheek. I leaned into him. "Will you deny your king?" He pressed closer, his eyes fiery blue and hungry.

A thread of vulnerability whispered in his voice, his expression expectant and bracing, as if I would deny him.

Smiling, I murmured, "Never." Then we went to his bedchamber and made the best of the afternoon and the night.

I'd never tell Hava, but he was a far more attentive handmaiden than any I'd ever had.