“Now that I have your attention,” Trystaen said, as if he’d done nothing shocking. “Stasha is bound by promise to Averin. Just as he is bound to her.”
Boa’s eyes weren’t the only ones to flash.
Stasha blinked like an idiot.
But Boa spoke first. “What promise?”
“Averin agreed to help her free Klaus if she agreed to go to Ilyseryph with him. Stop either of them, and you know what happens.”
Boa’s shoulders slumped. She looked at Stasha. “Is this true?”
While she’d made a promise to Averin, she didn’t know what Trystaen was talking about. But if he kept the rescue on track with whatever game he played, then she agreed with it. She folded her arms. “Yes, it’s true. But rock the earth again, Trystaen, and I will set your hair on fire.”
Trystaen chortled. “I don’t doubt that.” Despite sporting with her, he watched Boa.
The rebel leader faced Lukas and Frea. They shared a look filled with exasperation and something more—regret.
“It seems we have no choice but to accept Averin’s terms,” Lukas said.
Frea looked at Averin with such loathing, it even made Stasha cringe.
Boa rubbed her hands together, her fingers chasing the tattoos that swirled through her skin. After what seemed an eternity, she touched Stasha’s face with a gentle finger. “I will not risk your life by requiring you to break your promise to Averin, even if he”—she scowled at Averin—“would be so low as to require such a bond from you.”
Like a dark cloud, Averin stood dead still. Stasha guessed he’d been maligned in this whole deal but had chosen to say nothing. That he’d let Trystaen’s assertions stand reconfirmed how valuable she was to him and the other Zephyr royals. Even though she had no idea what he wanted her for, she could not bear for Boa, Lukas, and the awful Frea to think badly of him. She moved next to him. “Now that we’re all friends again, let’s plan the mission that really matters.”
“Good idea.” Trystaen slapped Lukas on the back. “Where do you want to hijack this prison wagon?”
Lukas grinned like an idiot. “Come, let’s get the map out, and I’ll show you.”
As Trystaen and Lukas busied themselves with maps, Averin leaned in to Stasha and whispered, “You might have won this round, pit princess, but just know that I hate your plan.”
She smiled at the tickle of his sweet breath on her ear. “How can you when you haven’t even heard it?”
Averin squeezed both her shoulders. “The Pyreack don’t care to guard their prison wagons. That tells me they have something inside the camp to expose imposters. I believe that’s how our people always got caught.”
“Something that destroys glamour?”
“Possibly. If I knew the answer, the fae I sent in to attack the place would have been successful.”
“Then I have to plan for that.”
“You aren’t listening to me. Get yourself killed, and I will never forgive you.”
“Then join me. In the mines.” The notion of taking on the Pyreack with Averin at her side made her heart skip. “And we go in fighting, so it doesn’t matter what magic they use to expose imposters.”
Averin’s eyes gleamed. They sobered when he glanced at Trystaen and Eliezar, poring over maps with Lukas and Boa. “I won’t risk them. Not without knowing what’s waiting for us inside the camp.”
“But you’ll risk yourself?”
Averin shrugged. “I’m hardly going to let you go alone, pit princess. Where’s the gallantry in that?”
She grinned, loving his spirit of adventure—or maybe he just wanted to be on hand to protect his weapon. No matter his reason, she was glad to have him on her side. “Good. Gives me a chance to keep an eye on you. I would hate you getting your butt kicked. Again.”
Averin smirked. “My gallantry prevents me from reminding you what happened after you thought you’d kicked my butt.”
She chortled. “True.” All mirth faded. “First thing we do is find Klaus.”
“It would be better to go for the gates. Get our team inside.”
There was logic in that, but she couldn’t bear being in the mines without knowing Klaus was safe. “The gates will be heavily guarded. If we can release the prisoners, they can act as a diversion. While the guards are busy with them, we open the gate to Boa and everyone else.”
“You aren’t going to listen to reason, are you?”
“You handle the fae. I’ll look after the humans.”
“If you didn’t have white heat, I’d definitely be arguing with you.” Averin offered her his hand.
She took it. Shoulder to shoulder, they faced the rest of the team. “So, Averin will be riding with me in the hijacked wagon. Who will be waiting outside the gate for us to let you in?”
The talking was finally done. Every detail had been dissected, argued over, rehashed, and finally settled. Stasha and Averin’s knapsack of clothing, provided by Boa for their mission, was packed and ready. Her dagger was strapped to her waist. Now, she, Averin, Eliezar, and Trystaen stood under a tree with Lukas while they waited for Boa to appear and spirit them to the Laughing Pools in Ocea. Frea and her bow and arrow hovered a little distance away.
Compared to everyone else, Stasha carried the least weaponry. But then, even Averin had finally admitted that her primary weapon was her magic, and the extraordinary way—apparently—she wielded it. It was her magic they would use to free Klaus and the other slaves from Angharad.
Frea glowered at her.
Mystified, Stasha nudged Averin. When he looked at her, she nodded for him to follow. Together, they stepped away from the tree. Even though she guessed with fae hearing that Frea would have no problem listening in, she said pointedly, “What have I done to tick her off?”
Averin scratched his stubble. “Exist? Or maybe she just has a problem with fire magic. She gets tense every time you burn.”
“Which is all the time when she’s around.” She sighed. “She brings out the worst in me.”
Averin brushed a wisp of hair off her face. “Don’t let her. It could jeopardize everything. It’s bad enough that Boa has issues with me. You said it yourself—we can’t afford to fight and distrust each other.”
“I don’t distrust me,” she said. “It’s her who gives me the creeps.”
Averin studied Frea and her bow. “She doesn’t send the wind through my hair, either, but Boa and Lukas trust her. That should be good enough for us.”
Stasha was marshaling her arguments against Frea when Boa strode up the path to join them. Armor coated Boa’s body like fish scales. “I have a gift for you,” she called to Stasha.
“For me?” Stasha bobbed and flashed her eyes at Averin. “Take notes. That’s how to persuade me that you’re my friend.”
Averin snorted. “So easily bought.” But he smiled as she hopped over to meet Boa.
“I will happily accept whatever you offer me.” She stopped a few feet away.
Boa’s grin was so kind, so much in contrast to her usually stern mien, that Stasha almost gasped in surprise. To cover up, she looked at Boa’s hands for her gift. Boa carried a leather sheath as long and wide as Stasha’s forearm. It rattled with leather straps and brass buckles.
Stasha frowned, not sure what she was supposed to do with an arm muff.
“Ah!” Hands in his pockets, Averin sauntered to her and Boa. “Very good choice, Boa, for a pit princess who likes chopping people with her hands.”
Boa nodded curtly at Averin. “For once, it seems we agree. Even with Stasha’s magic, she needs a backup weapon.” Boa made a scoffing sound at the dagger hanging from Stasha’s waist. “That thing won’t help her in a battle if she can’t use magic.”
Before Stasha could stop herself, she said, “I did slow down a manticore with it.” She smiled at Averin. “It’s a very good blade.”
“Keep the dagger.” Averin dipped his head. “My gift to you. But in truth, Boa’s hidden blade is the better weapon for you.
”
So that’s what this was—a hidden blade. She’d heard of them but had never seen one.
Boa fiddled with the sheath. A blade the length of Stasha’s forearm but far, far deadlier shot out of one end. The black steel glistened in the light dancing along the honed edge. “Allow me.” Dexterous fingers strapped the sheath to Stasha’s arm as she gawked. “There’s a trigger here.” Boa flicked a small steel knob, no bigger than a pea, on the inside of the weapon. Steel hissed as the blade retracted into the safety of the sheath. “Trigger it when you want to use it, and the blade shoots out. Press the same button when you want it gone. And mind your fingers.”
Stasha blinked, eyes wide as she triggered the switch. Steel shot out over her tightened fist, wicked and lovely. Perfect for … for killing. She swallowed. Passion and hatred had driven her claims that she would kill Radomir and everyone else who had harmed Klaus, but as she studied this weapon—so tangible—she wondered what it would do to her soul to take someone else’s life. Human or fae, it didn’t seem too different anymore. The distinction between the two was no longer as stark as it had been only a few days ago. She curled her finger against the trigger. The blade shot back in. “Thank you.”
Boa didn’t seem to hear her. Shoulders back, head high, Boa faced their inner circle, the ones who would lead the offensive. Boa already had spies and a platoon of rebels waging a low-key war of attrition against Pyreack in the Blue Desert. Messages had been sent through her spy network to call some of them in for the attack. Boa tightened a strap across her chest, pulling taut two long swords lashed across her back. “Tonight, we’ll camp at the Laughing Pools, so I can get my strength back. Tomorrow, on the way to the border, we’re stopping at the temple to call down a blessing on our mission from Jahena, goddess of rivers.” Boa bunched her fingertips and raised them to her mouth.
Stasha huffed to herself. She fully understood the need for Averin and Boa to rest. They were key warriors in their team and needed to be at their fighting best, but the temple trip seemed like a pointless waste of time. The idea of communing with gods who either didn’t exist or didn’t care was criminal when Klaus was in mortal danger. She opened her mouth to question the decision, but Averin nudged her in the ribs. She met his frown with one of her own.
“Boa does nothing without first petitioning the gods,” Averin whispered. “Respect that.”
She muttered, “It’s a waste of time.”
Averin shrugged. “Not all fae share your views, and you have no choice but to humor her.”
How did Averin feel about the gods the fae believed in? Somehow, she didn’t think he set much store by them either.
Boa held out her arms. “So, if we’re all ready, the next stop is the Laughing Pools in Ocea.”
While the others shuffled around Boa, Stasha stood uncertainly on the periphery.
Averin grabbed her hand. As her callused fingers scraped against his, a traitorous blush heated her face. He huffed a laugh, and she scowled. “You’ve spirited, haven’t you, pit princess?”
“I was unconscious.” Her pulse raced as he tugged her into his chest and wrapped an arm around her. Part of her was scared to spirit, but another part loved his exotic smell, so different than Radomir’s sickly sweet strawberries and honey.
“You’ll be wide awake this time.” Averin’s breath fluttered her hair. “It’ll be the ride of your life.” He grabbed Boa’s hand.
The earth turned upside down and spun like a top. Her hastily eaten breakfast rose, and then spun with it. And then her feet hit the ground—the right way up. She fell forward against Averin’s arm, spitting profanities and vomit onto vibrant green stones rimming a stream of tinkling water.
Averin leaned over so she hung in his arms. “That happened to me, too, the first time my father spirited with me,” he whispered in her ear. She heard the smile in his voice. He’d made no move to release her.
“How old were you?” she gritted out.
“About three. One of my earlier memories.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”
Trystaen pulled out a waterskin and handed it to her, also laughing. She wriggled away from Averin and snatched it from him. She washed her mouth out. Averin’s hand twitched. A gentle breeze wafted the stench away. She plunked down on a low wall next to the stream to catch her breath and wait for her stomach to forgive her.
As far as the eye could see, an intricate maze of streams stretched out like rippling mirrors. Her jaw slackened at the never-ending labyrinth of green, silver, and blue. Large jade boulders formed small islands—stepping stones—between them. Willows draped long, sad leaves into the constantly moving water. Lilies in shades of pink and white bobbed their heads in the current. In the shallows near her, silver fish skittered, while thumbnail-sized red-and-pink crabs scuttled along the white sandy bottom. The air tasted of salt and sand.
The Kingdom of Ocea.
“Let’s get moving.” Frea interrupted Stasha’s gawking. She blinked in surprise to hear the sour fae speak. Frea’s bow was no longer strung across her back, but in her hand. A schorl-tipped arrow was nocked into place. “We need to reach the end of the Laughing Pools by nightfall.”
“She’s right,” Boa said. “It’s not safe here. And don’t be fooled by how pretty the water looks. Don’t touch it, or we’ll have Pyreack soldiers on us in a flash.”
Stasha jumped up off the wall. The last thing she wanted was a showdown with more soldiers who could alert their leaders that she and her band were on the move. It was a stretch to think they’d link her movements with Klaus in Angharad, but she couldn’t risk it. “How will they know?”
“Piss Swill charmed the water to betray anyone who wasn’t in Ocea at the time of his coronation.” Boa glared down at the stream. Stasha could imagine Boa’s frustration that the element from which she drew her power would consider her an enemy.
Frea hopped up onto the wall. She looked from one stepping stone to another, finally picking out the driest. She jumped across to it. Boa followed her. Lukas waved to Stasha to go next. Never more aware of her balance, she jumped the chosen path. Averin, Trystaen, and Eliezar came next, with Lukas bringing up the rear.
“Want Eliezar and me to dry off the stones?” Averin called to Boa. “We can whip up some wind to do it.”
“That would be helpful,” Boa said. “Should have thought about it before we started.”
Averin and Eliezar shuffled passed Stasha and the others to take point.
Sandwiched between Trystaen and Lukas, Stasha trailed at the back of the party.
A bell-like laugh spluttered from the rippling surface, echoing on everything and nothing. Stasha’s head jerked up, and her foot almost slid off her stone. She waved her arms frantically, and it was only Trystaen’s steady hand that stopped her sliding into the stream.
She cursed at her carelessness.
“It was just the water. That’s why it’s called the Laughing Pools,” Trystaen said, hopping from one flat jade stone to another.
Stasha scowled at her ignorance, eyeing the laughing water with mistrust as she leaped onto the next boulder.
A fish splashed, and she had to fight to stop herself from jumping.
“It’s right to be cautious,” Trystaen added. “As you’ve already seen, Darien cares little for the faeries and magical creatures that don’t benefit him. Regardless of the threat they pose to travelers, he lets them run wild. Like the Tiyanak and the manticore.”
She shivered and gulped down a salty breath. She hadn’t mentioned her bargain with the Tiyanak yet.
Aware that she was strung too tightly, she said quietly to Trystaen, “Tell me about fae sealing.” Almost unbidden, her eyes flitted to Averin. Lithe and deadly, he jumped from rock to rock, following the breeze streaking from his fingertips. Another stupid blush followed by a grimace. How was it possible she could be dreaming of him when she’d sworn after Tarik she’d never want anyone in that way again?
Trystaen e
yed her sharply. “What makes you ask that?”
She avoided his gaze as they hopped onto adjacent rocks. “Averin told me about Eliezar and Nela. He said they were sealed. It piqued my curiosity.”
The tight lines around Trystaen’s eyes and mouth relaxed. “They were. Fae who choose each other say they’re sealed. It’s like marriage.” He grunted. “Or rather, it is for fae outside of Pyreack.”
“How does sealing work?”
Trystaen shrugged. “How does any love work? Chemistry and compatibility. Get it in the right proportions, and the two life forces connect. Those fae become sealed on a level that nothing can break.” He waited for her to jump onto a rock ahead of him. “There are no second fae marriages after they’ve been sealed.”
Her eyes were drawn to Eliezar and Boa, both of whom had lost partners. “So they won’t marry again?”
“Eliezar won’t. He couldn’t, even if he wanted to, which would never happen. The sealing continues after death.”
“And Boa?”
“She and Shyael weren’t sealed. In time, she will have to open her heart to fresh possibilities. A male to help her secure her succession.”
“I’m glad you’re that confident she’ll get her throne back.”
Trystaen smiled. “It might have something to do with finding you.”
That. Again. Not willing to let him change the subject, she asked, “So what happens to the magic when fae get sealed?”
Trystaen blinked, and then his face cleared. “Right. You’re thinking about how things work in Pyreack. It’s nothing like that in Zephyr. If fae seal, they share the magic.” He gestured at the water around them. “I guess you can say it’s pooled, and they can both draw on it.”
“That sounds far more civilized.”
“I thought you might—”
A shout cut him short. Stasha stood on her toes to see the front of the line.
Frea’s foot had slipped off her rock, and ripples scurried across the pond.
Water rumbled behind Stasha. She snapped her head around and gasped. Bubbles and dead fish rose to the surface. Angry water sloshed onto her rock. Steam billowed up at her feet like a hissing snake.
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