Chapter 3 Fcking Fetch
~ MELEK ~
Gault, the King, was being foolish again. I ground my teeth as he reclined on his furs and instructed the Fetch to begin talking and not to stop until he told her to.
As she gathered herself and eyed him darkly, I knew she would comply.
But the truth you heard from a Fetch was rarely the truth you thought you heard.
I had fought alongside ancients that claimed to have entered the Fetch city, though I was never certain whether they could be trusted either.
They said these creatures were wisps on the wind.
They danced the shadows and killed like breathing.
If it was true she’d been watching Gault for three days already, then perhaps the ancients hadn’t been exaggerating.
I couldn’t know. I hadn’t been in camp. But we’d seen evidence of the Fetch near the battlefield, so I had come to request the hounds knowing Gault wouldn’t release them to anyone else—only to find that the signs were here, too.
And now… here we were.
She licked her lips, never taking her eyes off the King, though her expression was empty—no hint of what she felt or thought. And when she spoke, her voice was quiet, submissive.
“I will share what I know with the King, of course,” she said quietly.
“But much of what I know is… sensitive, even here. Your enemies learn of you, you understand? You may not wish me to speak these things with an audience?” She eyed the guards and servants on either side of her, and around the King, then waited.
Cunning bitch.
Gault opened his mouth, his expression dark and suspicious, but his eyes darting side to side, probably because she’d revealed that she already knew his secrets. I couldn’t let her manipulate him so that she escaped. I cleared my throat.
“It is worth remembering, Sire, that the Fetch are deceivers and thieves. Slippery with both words and body. Do not trust her.”
“I don’t,” Gault said bluntly. “But the point is valid. I also don’t trust the dull minds of those who do not carry the blood of the Light Bearer. Clear the tent—you stay, Melek. But everyone else, out.”
I gritted my teeth as everyone—including the guards—immediately turned for the door.
“Remain outside and form a perimeter around the entire tent,” I said quietly, catching the elbow of the Lieutenant as they all hurried for the door. “And send for the tentmaker—she’s cut the side in the corner over there. Get someone to repair it today.”
The man ducked his head once, then marched for the door, urging the others to hurry. None of them wishing to incite Gault’s ire.
I turned back to the Fetch, to find her and Gault staring at each other like two strange cats.
“Sire—”
“You’re here, Melek. If you have caution, use it.
But I would hear her speak.” Then he eyed her again.
“Do not tell yourself my threats are empty. The moment I discover you have deceived me, I will open your belly with my teeth and drag you through the tent-city by your intestines—and when you die, I will fuck your remains.” Then he smiled and licked his lips, leaning in close to her.
“Be careful what comes out of that mouth, you cunning little thing, or I will fill it with my truth. And if I must do it to your dead carcass, well… a wet hole is a wet hole.”
Despite my disgust, I was impressed that she didn’t even blink.
“What do you wish to know first?” she asked as if they were having casual conversation.
Gault smiled and sat back on his lounge, spreading his legs to display the threat of his bulge to her as he reclined.
“Tell me… why we have been sitting here for over a week already?” he said with a flap of his hand to indicate the war camp.
“What weapons have my enemies developed? What has arrested our progress?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly before she answered.
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” she said quietly.
Gault grunted and waited for her to continue.
She sighed. “News of your advance reached my people months ago—which means that those pinned between your people and mine heard you were coming weeks before you arrived. They have wisely determined that banding together to defeat you is better than falling alone.”
It was exactly what I’d told him a week earlier, the first time we were turned back. We’d seen banners for both the Tuskarrians and the Zaryndar among the fighters. Had he not believed me? Or was he only checking her for honesty?
“Even banded together, they should not hold us so easily,” Gault growled with a dark look at me. “How do they manage it.”
She raised one brow. “You truly do not know?”
Gault’s expression didn’t change, but the air suddenly went thin with his disapproval.
She licked her lips and glanced at me before she spoke.
“The terrain at the western end of the continent does not give you the freedom to simply overwhelm them. Even you cannot just sweep through a battle waged among trees, swamps, and ravines. You must be much more strategic in your approach. Add to that… they have Aethereans among them. At least four, that we are aware of.”
I cursed. The Aethereans were wraithlike creatures with the ability to soul-bond—create links between themselves and others that would feed strength, energy, and power between parties and enhance any abilities that already existed. Some could communicate telepathically and even heal.
But a bonded Aetherean also took on some of whatever was within those they bonded.
Which was why they avoided the Nephilim as if we were poison.
Because to them, we were. After all, it was impossible to soulbond to something that lacked a soul.
An Aetherean attempting to bond a Nephilim was suicide.
It was no surprise that they would choose to stand against us. But the Aetherean weren’t only rare, they were notorious loners, incredibly sensitive to the emotions of others, even those they hadn’t bonded. Standing on a battlefield would be torment to them.
To have one join a warring faction against us was stunning.
Let alone four. That small fact changed the entire landscape of this war, and filled me with trepidation.
But also relief. Because it explained how our most recent enemies seemed to coordinate their attacks—and retreats—so perfectly.
And how our efforts to take the front so far had been met with such seamless maneuvering that we could never gain traction.
The first time we had advanced, we’d almost been surrounded. They’d kept me sweating ever since.
Shit.
“Is this true?” Gault growled at me.
“It makes sense,” I replied reluctantly.
Gault’s eyes narrowed as he turned back to the Fetch. “Do your people enjoy this… alliance?”
The Fetch shook her head. “We have no need. Our land creates a natural barrier and our reputation discourages confidence. Our neighbors have already learned to respect our boundaries. If they win, they’ll leave us alone.
And if you do… well, we will defeat you without tying ourselves to the soul-suckers,” she said viciously.
It was said that while the Aethereans strengthened and enhanced any creature they bonded, their strength came from subtly pilfering some of the life-essence of the bonded one.
Did her comment mean that was true? Or was it just a curse on a people that she clearly despised?
I huffed, amused by her arrogance, but Gault’s expression went dark with loathing.
Quick as a snake, he stood and took her by the neck, lifting her off her feet and shaking her like a doll. She tried to fight, but his grip was too tight, and just as she had with me, she ended up only gripping his wrist and fighting for air while he held her by the throat and snarled in her face.
“The only reason you still live is because of my mercy, bitch. You will not live a moment beyond your usefulness—and your people will not survive beyond my descent. Answer my questions without taunts or barbs, or I will prove to you how powerless you are by turning my men on you to rip your flesh from your bones.”
Still gripping his wrist, she nodded. Or tried to. She couldn’t breathe and he was holding her entire bodyweight by that one fist clamped at her throat.
Despite my natural aversion to harming females, I couldn’t say I regretted his aggression. The Fetch were a massive threat to us—if for nothing else than that they could inform our enemies about us. Having one of them caught and informing was a coup.
Mind you, she wouldn’t be informing much longer if he didn’t let her breathe soon.
“Gault,” I said quietly. “She possesses very useful information—insight that could be the key to us finally taking this battle. If you kill her…”
He stared at me for a moment as if he were considering whether or not my words were disrespectful. Then he dropped her without a word, snorting when she landed on the ground with a thump and a wheeze. Then he turned on his heel and went back to his lounge.
I grabbed her upper arm so that she couldn’t flee.
Her limb was so narrow I circled her bicep completely, my fingers overlapping in the fist. Her lithe stature tempted me to complacency.
But I’d heard how easily a Fetch could melt into shadows to escape, even in broad daylight.
I didn’t know if the rumors were true, but if she’d stayed hidden here for three days, there seemed no point testing them.
“I weary of this,” Gault muttered. “Take her. Interrogate her. Whatever you need to do, you have my permission. Get the information from her. Make sure she doesn’t escape. Then go win this fucking war so we can return home.”
“Yes, Sire, I just—”
“Do not forget that I hold you personally responsible for her, Melek. Do not let her escape. Kill her first.”
“Yes. Of course. Only—”
“Only what?”
I kept my eyes low, gritting my teeth. “Only… I am supposed to return to the front tomorrow. The information she provides may pave the way for our victory. But I cannot be in two places at once.”