49. Tobias
Chapter forty-nine
Tobias
T wo fae slipped from the tree line, making absolutely no noise, not even bending the grass as they walked. Their dark tunics matched the rapidly growing darkness around them. Their eyes glowed with a predator’s intensity.
In a sudden rush of fear, Tobias realized they were the same two he’d spied on earlier, the tall male and the blue-haired female.
Not just fae, but Oathborn warriors. They stared at Tobias.
Neither drew a blade, and so Tobias squared his shoulders to look back at them.
“ Avete ,” he said. One of the first words in the book. A greeting.
The fae exchanged looks, and the female whispered something low to her companion before addressing Tobias. “What do you want, human?” Her Rhydonian was heavily accented, a lilting, rich tone. “Get out of our way.”
“No,” Tobias replied, using the fae words, keeping to what he knew. If ever there was a time for his studies to matter, it was this moment. Much like one could not turn and run from a bear, he sensed he should not show fear in front of the fae. “This is Rhydonian land.”
The taller Oathborn spat on the ground at those words. His hand tensed around the sword grip, but he did not draw it. Anger radiated from their expressions. Neither made a move to attack.
As Javen had stated, the Accords remained.
No Oathborn could kill a human. Tobias clung to that as he stood in front of them, knowing he would be completely outmatched in a fight.
“Leave,” Tobias said, “or let me leave in peace. I do not care which.” He’d had to resort to Rhydonian, but he tried his best to match Javen’s tone, his haughtiness, his smug confidence.
“Did you see a child?” the woman asked. “Which way did she go?”
“I saw no one.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Liar.”
Tobias avoided stumbling into an argument. Their words were no different from Javen’s countless goading jabs. He’d keep to his story, and keep his calm. “Is she your child? What should I call her if I see her?”
The fae rolled her eyes. “She is of the isles. An Oathborn. She does not belong here among your pitiful kind.”
They despised humans. Which was fine; Tobias was used to being disliked.
What was keeping his mind whirring was how strong the Accords must be for these two fae to stand before him, full of loathing, and make no move to attack.
Did the Accords have magic in them? There seemed to be no other answer, nothing that would give Javen such surety that they were not broken, and even protect Tobias now.
It all made sense. If the Accords did have some sort of binding enchantment, preventing Oathborn warriors from attacking… that would be why the blonde fae had been so upset. The one she’d called Daeden. He was Oathborn and had nearly killed Tobias.
The gravity of his prior actions hit him like a train wreck.
If Zari hadn’t rescued him, if they hadn’t used silverbane and cadevesh against the wounds…
the war might have resumed because of his actions.
He’d longed for fame and glory, but certainly not to be the catalyst of a thousand more terrible battles.
Now, his survival depended on his reasoning of the Accords. If he were wrong, well, he didn’t think he’d live too long. “I’m leaving now,” he told the fae. “I wish you good luck in finding the girl.”
“You…” one snarled at him.
He held up his unarmed hands. “I leave in the name of the Accords. May we meet again, under brighter stars. ”
The last line he’d said in the fae language, echoing the departing words of the beautiful fae he’d come to think of as his personal savior, a heroine unmatched by anyone else. He’d find her again, Tobias decided. He would find her and help her in her quest for peace.
While the Oathborn watched, he took one step back. Another. They didn’t move.
For once, he had been right.
Tobias kept up a fast-paced run for as long as he could until finally he broke down into a slow, gasping walk. Still, the village was some distance away. Was the girl safe? Would the bracelet be enough to protect her?
His hand fell to the radio on his belt. He’d been given another mission. One he’d forgotten until now. He lifted the communication device, switched it on. “Captain?” he asked, waiting for a response.
None came.
A branch cracked under Tobias’s foot.
“Halt,” said a voice, low and quiet.
Tobias whirled, half-expecting another fae. The woods held far too many surprises. How could they appear so swiftly when the cliffs were so impossible to climb?
The figure was a bit shorter than Tobias, and less broad in the shoulders. Not a fae then, whoever he was. He’d pulled an old-fashioned cloak hood down over most of his face, hiding his features. Hazel eyes glinted in the shadows, and the faintest hint of fox-red hair showed.
“What do you want?” Tobias asked.
“I’m looking for a girl. I think she ran past? She’s in grave danger and—”
“She’s safe.” Tobias said. “That’s all you need to know.” He’d get no more information out of Tobias. The man could have been working with the fae.
The stranger’s hand dropped inside the cloak. Tobias drew his pistol instantly .
“Easy, easy,” the man murmured, his tone confirming the accent Tobias had already picked up on. “I only wanted to… this is for her.” He held out a small carved wooden cat, clearly handmade.
“You can give it to her yourself.” Tobias had no idea where the little girl might be, except hopefully safe, somewhere in Kirkton. Nor did he fully trust this stranger.
He shook his head. “Please. Tell her mother that the robin is waiting for her message.”
A code. Tobias folded his arms, fighting his natural urge to try to guess at a meaning for it. “Why should I?”
The radio crackled to life again. Was that a… scream? Someone calling for help? It sounded like… “Zari?” Tobias asked, his voice nearly splitting with surprise. What was she doing?
And where was Javen? Had he traveled to the fae isles themselves? Surely, not to desert Rhydonia. To seek revenge against the Queen?
“What’s going on?” he called, but there was no answer on the radio.
A flutter of fabric caught Tobias’s eye. The stranger had sprinted off, the cloak hood falling off in his haste, revealing a flash of red hair like flame in the darkness.
The little carved toy lay forgotten on the grass.