Chapter 33

GOLL

I couldn't describe this emotion I was experiencing as I watched Una on her pale Pellasian mare talking and laughing with Pullo who was describing how the beast fae chose to live, which was very different than the rest of the civilized world. Tierzel watched and listened from Una's other side.

When any male held Una's attention, my initial reaction was annoyance. But at the moment, I felt something entirely different. The joy on her face, the leisurely way she spoke to Pullo and Tierzel about the nomadic habits of the beast fae, and her relaxed demeanor among my warriors gave me such pleasure I hadn't realized I'd craved it.

I'd wanted this moment to come. To see this harmony of Una in my world. For she did belong here. There was no mistaking it.

She looked more natural as my mizrah than any wraith-born could have. Draped in the gray winter cloak Hava had made for her with the white Meer-wolf trim, slits cut for her wings, she guided her horse among my warriors like she was their leader, not me.

Truth be told, they were likely more devoted to her than me. If a threat came upon us, they'd defend her first, which is exactly how I'd want it. Even Soryn, who kept snapping his gaze back to check on her.

"She is making friends quickly, isn't she?" Keffa commented from next to me.

"She is."

"And the king seems content with her," Keffa noted with a touch of wistfulness. "I am happy for you."

He kept his gaze forward, but the tightness at his one good eye revealed the tension in his body. And his mind and heart.

"I am sorry I could not save her, Keffa." We rarely spoke of Vayla, but I knew that the recent revelation with Una had brought her to the forefront of his mind.

He gave a sharp shake of the head. "No reason to be sorry, Goll."

He often used my given name when we were alone or just with Soryn. He'd been a mentor to me growing up, like a kind uncle. Since my father saw me as nothing more than a nuisance as a child, I'd always find my way to the training yards where Keffa would teach me, spend time with me.

"That time has long passed," he added. "And the gods do as they will."

After I'd killed my father, rallied my allies, and freed Keffa from the dungeon cell where my father had left him to rot, we had found Vayla's corpse. I'd never imagined she'd been kept next to Una or they'd ever had an encounter. Still, it seemed prophetic that they had. Divine.

"She gave her last bit of magick to Una before she died." I'd already told him this before we left N?kt Mir and exactly what Vayla had said to Una in the dungeon. He'd deserved to know. Still, I felt the need to remind him. "What a beautiful gift that was."

He smiled then, still focused on the road ahead. "That was my Vayla. Ever giving to others. Even when they didn't deserve it. Though your mizrah did deserve it."

"Truth, Keffa."

"I am glad to know they were together in the end, and she wasn't alone when she walked into the afterworld."

We rode on in silence for a while. The sound of Una's laughter along with Hava's floating back to us when Pullo made some sort of grand gesture with his hands as he told a wild story. His best friend, Tierzel, laughed shyly next to Una. Most assuredly, Pullo was telling yet another tale about the unruly and rough beast fae she would soon meet.

Keffa chuckled at their laughter. "If my Vayla died placing those runes upon your mizrah's head, then she is indeed meant for you. Meant to unite our kingdoms."

A swelling of absolute certainty filled my body. "What of the era of night? The need for Northgall to suppress the moon fae into submission?"

I was certain that Keffa had never believed that old adage as my father had. Or not entirely. But he'd never spoken of it, even when I'd set out to defeat the moon fae in our long, brutal war.

"I believe the era of night begins with a wraith king taking a moon fae as his mizrah. As his mate." He finally turned to look at me.

I didn't deny that she was my god-given mate. I knew it down to my bones.

"It may be our time to rise, to lead , Gollaya. But that does not mean that we need stomp them beneath our feet as your father had planned to do."

I nodded tightly. "Agreed, old friend. With good warriors at my side, I know that we will not go astray."

Finally, he looked ahead again. "And with a female like Una at your side, you will never fall."

I couldn't agree more, but I still couldn't admit how much she meant to me. Not even to Keffa.

Perhaps it was because I'd not known this depth of emotion for another fae, not since my mother. After she died, I'd smothered any need for affection. For love. I believed that as long as I garnered the loyalty of my Kel Klyss and remained strong as their king, I would be satisfied with friendship and brotherhood.

I was wrong. My desire for Una burrowed so deep. I craved her smiles, her scent, her laughter, and yes, by the gods, her love. I knew I didn't deserve it, but selfish bastard that I am, I still wanted it.

I watched her riding astride like the wraith fae females do, her hair braided intricately into one long rope down her back, falling between her glorious wings. My heart paced faster. Simply gazing upon her made me ache with longing to have her in my arms. She was so dear to me it was terrifying.

Soryn gave a sharp whistle, halting the caravan from the front of the line. We'd passed Belladum yesterday. It was a larger settlement of wraith fae. While I knew that they would welcome me and my Culled, I'd half expected some of them to hiss or glare at the new mizrah. Though it had been five years ago and they'd rebuilt, her father had attacked and killed many in Belladum. While they'd been wary of her, there had been more smiles and words of welcome to her than anything else.

But that was my people. Not the beast fae.

Keffa and I stirred our mounts into a gallop to meet Soryn at the head of the caravan, the pointed tents of Vanglosa in the distance beyond.

When I pulled to a stop next to Soryn, he said, "They're already waiting for us."

Though we were still a few leagues away, I could see across the wide plains where several beast fae stood in a semi-circle outside their village. Some sat upon their Meer-wolves, some stood, but all of them stared directly at us.

"Of course, they are," I said. "They'd have known we crossed out of Belladum into Meerland from one of their scouts."

We never bothered sending emissaries to the beast fae if we had need for any dealings with them, which was rare. They'd only turn them away with a warning. When we'd sent word that King Connall of Issos had attacked Belladum so many years ago and we were invading in retaliation, their arrogant lord had said, ‘You worry about your own, not us. If the king dares to come here, we'll kill him and all his warriors, then feed them to our wolves.'

That was the last time we'd had any communication with the lord of the beast fae.

"Slow and steady," I commanded then turned back to find Una. She was flanked by Pullo and Tierzel on one side, Ferryn and Meck on the other. Hava was now riding behind her with the rest of the Culled surrounding them. "Remain in your current positions."

Then we marched ahead as one, directly across the open plain toward Vanglosa. None of those standing and sitting upon their wolves, waiting for us, were the beast lord. But I did recognize his warrior chief, Bezaliel, as we drew closer.

He stood at the center of them, his bare arms crossed, displaying his many demon runes across his dark bronzed chest. As was their way, he wore only a skirt made of rough hide. With winter approaching, some of them wore boots and deerskin cloaks, but not Bezaliel.

He stood to his mighty height, as tall as Soryn or me, his four, spiraled horns curling back, a wider rack on his head than most. Because he wore no boots, his pelt of fur that thickened at the bottom of his legs and the tops of his clawed feet was exposed. His long tail, covered in a brown felt, the tip tufted with fur, twitched behind him with agitation. His pelt thickened along a line at the center of his abdomen, disappearing beneath his leather skirt.

"Fucking beast fae," whispered Soryn under his breath, no doubt irritated that Bezaliel refused to wear even a shirt or a cloak in these wintry temperatures. I could smell snow in the air.

"We can hear you, chief," Bezaliel called in his deep voice. He knew that Soryn was my second and leader of the Culled. "You can all stop right there."

My warriors did, but I continued to advance slowly. They wouldn't do anything to me. They knew if they tried, I could use feyfire to annihilate any threat. And though the beast fae were a wilder species, they were by no means stupid.

"We need counsel with Lord Redvyr."

When Bezaliel did not answer, his gaze roaming behind me to Una and her handmaiden, I let him take it in. He knew I wouldn't bring my mate or vulnerable females on a violent quest.

After another moment, he called back, "Haslek! Tell Lord Redvyr he has visitors requesting permission to treat with him."

The beast fae with darker skin, pelt, and tail turned and ran back into the cluster of tents of Vanglosa. From here, we could see no one else milling around the tents. Not unusual. They would've told everyone to stay inside and out of our eyesight while they determined if we were a threat.

No sound but the cold wind blowing across the open plain accompanied us while we waited. I looked back at Una, finding her examining the beast fae with wide-eyed curiosity. When she caught my attention, she smiled, excitement glowing in her violet eyes.

The messenger returned quickly enough, running directly to Bezaliel and whispering something in his ear. Bezaliel nodded and then addressed me. "The wraith king may enter with two of his guard."

"Goll," said Una, pulling my attention back to her.

She didn't need to say a word. We'd had a lengthy discussion last night in our furs at the encampment outside Belladum. She demanded to be with me when I spoke to the beast lord. If they refused our help, she insisted it was her purpose to be there to convince him to aid us.

I wasn't even sure they'd have any idea where or how to find this second text, but the vision she'd had in her book clearly stated it would be among the beast fae clans.

I nodded at her then turned back to Bezaliel, who now scowled. "I must bring my mizrah with me. And because I do, I'll need to bring more warriors."

I didn't need to add that I'd only bring her inside with ample protection. The beast fae were as protective of their females as we were.

Bezaliel's yellow eyes coasted back to Una, his expression softening with curiosity. After a moment, he said. "Six guards. Follow me. Leave the horses."

He turned and walked back into the village of Vanglosa, the other beast fae turning with him.

"Keffa, Soryn, Pullo, Morgolith, Meck, and Ferryn." I dismounted then helped Una. The others flanked us as we walked into Vanglosa.

Just like any village made of brick and stone, Vanglosa was organized into sections, separating workspaces from the residential tents toward the back of the encampment.

The blacksmith's shop was little more than a hide covering with open sides for full ventilation—a giant iron stove and anvil, metalworks dangling from hooks overhead. Next was an even larger tent with an open front revealing small iron stoves over open pits, the smell of bread and roasted meat wafted from their kitchens.

An open area between tents was set up for curing hides. At the moment, several red deer pelts were staked and spread wide on upright poles, tools left on small tables, abandoned obviously when we strangers entered their village. They were likely bulking up on furs and hides for the winter months.

While Vanglosa was their settlement most of the year, they'd be packing up soon enough for their winter farther to the southeast.

As we came closer to the center of the village where their tents were clustered closer together, I knew that we were nearing what they called the kella'mir. The home's heart. It was where all assemblies of importance took place in a beast fae community—mate unions, death pyres, birth celebrations. The beast fae were few in number compared to the wraith fae and the shadow fae, who lived wholly apart from the rest of us in the Solgavia Mountains.

While I didn't communicate often with the beast fae, I knew their population remained low. For whatever reason, they didn't multiply like other fae. Possibly the curse that had been put on them years ago that gave them a more beastly appearance and left them with only the magick of heightened, animalistic senses and strength. But every clan celebrated each new birth at their kella'mir.

And that is where the beast lord of Vanglosa was waiting as we walked into the open circle. He sat upon a dais beneath a giant oak tree. His black Meer-wolf, one of the biggest beasts of their kind I'd ever laid eyes on, lounged to his master's right.

Surrounding the dais were fifty or so beast fae males, all the fiercest of his warriors by the looks of their runes decorating their exposed skin. Behind them, there were beast fae women and children peering from around nearby tents. Some had become brave enough to move farther into the open to see who'd come into their village.

Una's hand flinched in mine, her steps slowing. I stopped and turned to her, but her gaze remained fixed and wide-eyed upon the dais.

"It's all right, Mizrah," I murmured low. "He will not hurt you."

She leaned against me and whispered, "His teeth are as long as my arm."

She exaggerated, but he was an ungodly large fae. "Trust me, sweet Una. No harm will come to you."

Her gaze finally lifted to mine. She swallowed hard.

"Do you trust me?" I asked.

"Of course," she answered easily, so fast it made my heart skip a beat.

She trusted me. It nearly felled me on the spot. I squeezed her hand tighter and tucked her close as I led us the rest of the way to the foot of the dais.

"Greetings, Lord Redvyr. We bring you tribute."

Pullo stepped around me toward the raised platform. Redvyr's giant black Meer-wolf rumbled a growl. Pullo slowed his steps and lay the fine short-sword made of black steel on the dais.

His attention wasn't on me or on the gift, however. It was on Una. I'd expected this. No wraith king had ever taken any fae other than our own kind as a mizrah or a mate.

"What an interesting visitor you bring into my home, Goll."

It didn't surprise or offend me that he refused to use my title. Though it was a fact the wraith king held power over all trade in and out of Northgall with the wider civilized world of fae, the beast and shadow fae didn't recognize my authority over Northgall. Not the lands they lived in at least. And perhaps, I didn't hold authority over them. But that didn't mean they weren't prospering from the gains I'd made for Northgall in their stead.

Even now, I could see there were bright, silky fabrics adorning some of the beast fae females. Those were silks traded between Hellamir and Belladum in the Borderlands. I'd managed to create a line of trust between us and some of the more willing captains of trade in Hellamir while in hiding, long before I'd recently ended the war.

It was also another reason that Hellamir remained untouched during the long war with Lumeria. But while the beast fae might benefit in silks and ale, or even Mevian wine, Lord Redvyr would never admit they needed us. Or wanted the help of our kind.

"This is my mizrah, Una Hartstone of Issos."

Murmurs and gasps erupted from the females behind the warriors.

Redvyr grinned, his long canines making him look more feral than fae. He stood swiftly, which had my warriors sliding swords from scabbards, blades zinging into the air.

"Easy, wraithlings," said Redvyr with raised palms, his hands large enough to wrap a fae skull and strong enough to crush it.

Soryn cursed at the insult, calling us wraithlings as if we were small children. We weren't small at all. But the fact was that beast fae were made taller, wider, thicker. They were the largest of faekind.

Redvyr marched toward the steps. His Meer-wolf stood, too, but his master raised a hand to the giant hound. It grunted and settled back onto its haunches, ever vigilant, its silver eyes watching us.

The beast lord lifted the short-sword and unsheathed the blade, noting the wide expanse and polished finish with serrated edging on one side. He grunted then slid the blade back into the scabbard and stepped down, walking toward us in long, easy strides.

I kept my body slightly in front of Una, knowing he wanted a closer look. Still, I needed to warn him so that it was clear. "The only reason I'm allowing you to come this close is because I can explode you into cinders if you make any threat against her."

Redvyr stopped a few feet in front of us, grinning yet again as he asked, "Why would I want to hurt a pretty little moon fae like her?" He crossed his arms and looked his fill, his brow pursing and his tail sliding side to side behind him in a slow, sinuous path. "Black wings," he marveled.

Una still had both her hands clutching my forearm, her body pressed to my side. The fact that she clung to me for safety eased my anxiety about having a giant beast fae standing this close. Redvyr was indeed a massive creature, bigger and wider than any of his own fae males. Or mine.

Redvyr inhaled deeply, his fanged grin widening as he winked at me. "Seems you've been busy, Goll."

I gave my head a sharp shake to warn him off that subject. Una looked up at me in confusion, but I wasn't ready to have this conversation. Redvyr chuckled, apparently getting my point.

"Seems your chief has a taste for the light fae, too," commented Soryn, thankfully dragging everyone's attention away, including Una.

I followed his gaze to Bezaliel, who was standing to one side of the dais, a wood fae female with long dark hair and a rounded belly at his side. He had his own arm possessively about her shoulders.

Redvyr's tail flicked with agitation. "Soon we'll be mounting dryads and siring twiggy trees, I imagine."

"Red," scolded Bezaliel, his arm pulling his mate closer, his frown deepening.

Redvyr huffed out a breath. "Enough niceties, Goll. Why have you come?"

"My lord." Una stepped around me, though I kept a firm grip on one side of her waist. "I have asked Goll to bring me here."

"Have you, my lady?" His expression shifted to amusement, his voice softer. "How can I be of service to the lovely new mizrah of N?kt Mir?"

Fucking hells, he was flirting with her. He liked my mizrah. How could he not?

Even worse, he was making her blush. I clamped my jaw tight, keeping my promise to Una. Last night, I'd told her Redvyr was an ornery, arrogant bastard who likely wouldn't help us. She was convinced she could get him to help us.

And by Vix, she was right. He looked as if he were about to kneel at her feet, and she hadn't said more than a few words.

She clasped her hands demurely before her in a beseeching gesture. "I apologize for us making this journey into your home without warning, but it is of dire importance that we find something very special that I know is here in your realm."

"And what might that be, my lady?"

"It is a special text of some kind. It is god-touched. It would have the lingerings of a god's magick. I know that's a cryptic description, and you're probably thinking I'm mad, but I am certain that—"

"It is here," Redvyr interrupted.

I straightened, taking in his tight expression.

Una inhaled a small gasp, her face brightening with excitement. "It's important that I find the text. Can you show us where it is?"

Redvyr turned to look at his chief, who gave a tight nod in response. Then he looked back at us, his golden eyes glimmering like a predator's at night. "Bezaliel will take you to him."

"Him?" I asked at the same time Una did.

Una then added, "No, my lord. We are looking for words written or left behind by a god or goddess on some sort of text. Not a person."

"Bezaliel," Redvyr called and waved him over rather than explain himself.

The chief was listening to his mate, who was gesturing wildly and pointing at Una. After a brief moment, he nodded, took her hand, and led her toward us.

"Take them to Grindolvek," ordered Redvyr.

"Who is Grindolvek?" I asked, stiffening with wariness.

Redvyr blinked a moment as if he had to think about his answer. It was both fascinating and worrisome. Then he finally answered. "Grindolvek is the god-touched words you're looking for."

Then he whistled to his hound, who leaped off the dais and followed him as he stalked away back into the encampment, his new blade in hand and his tail twitching behind him.