Chapter 2 #2
The faun merely laughed and lounged back against the stone wall.
“You just trust me, Griffin King, if the Autumn Prince had attacked you, really attacked you I mean, we would not be having this conversation.”
Riordan bristled as the faun struck the nerve I knew had been worn raw the last couple days.
I could almost taste his fear, the concern that Rian could single-handedly obliterate the Vale with his world-eating magic.
And there did not seem to be anything we could do to fight him.
Riordan was exhausted just from repairing our realm after indirect exposure to the dark power of the Autumn Prince.
What would happen if Rian actually used such a power to rip the Vale apart in earnest?
“It was interesting to meet you, I guess, but could you just bring me Lady Amira so I can take her letter back to Lady Ornella?” the faun asked impatiently.
“You believe good relations could still be achieved?” Riordan verified, ignoring the irreverent demand.
“Sure! I am not very familiar with Lady Ornella yet, but the word around camp is she is Sage’s mate, and he is the best male you’ll ever meet.
And Rian is reasonable when it matters,” the faun assured us with an easy shrug.
“Whatever altercation occurred, I am sure it can all be worked out with just a little bit of patience.”
“Which one is Sage?” I asked with a sudden impulse to confirm for sure that it was Ornella’s mate who was taken by the Sylvan. Even though her reaction had made it pretty clear. “The dark-haired Light Wraith?”
“Aye,” said the faun with a suspicious frown at me.
“You say he is the best male you know. What else can you tell me? What is his relationship like with Rian?”
The faun seemed to deliberate for a moment before he finally decided that the information was harmless.
“Sage is Rian’s cousin, but they’re more like brothers. I’ve heard the Wild Hunt has calmed down a great deal since Sage joined their ranks,” he added with a laugh and a shake of his shaggy, ram-horned head.
“Why is that?” I pressed, concerned by the idea that the Wild Hunt could become even more volatile now with this particular rider gone.
“Well, he has a gentle heart and a measured temper so everyone loves him, and they listen to him,” explained the faun plainly. “We always joke that if you have bad news to deliver to the riders, it is best to take it to Sage first!”
Wonderful, Riordan muttered in my mind, echoing my growing dread at the picture the faun was painting.
“So why do you want to know so much about him?” asked the faun worriedly.
“He was… taken during the battle,” admitted Riordan. “Not by us exactly, but Rian will still blame us for it.”
“Taken?” the fey repeated, genuinely horrified.
“Would Rian still be open to negotiations if he blamed us for the loss of his cousin?” I forced myself to ask.
The fey stared at us, his amber eyes flicking back and forth as he tried to read more of the situation while he grew more and more uncomfortable.
“Rian is a reasonable male, as I said, but… only until you hurt his family,” he admitted significantly.
“So he will not wish to negotiate,” Riordan confirmed, but the faun had drawn his furry knees up to hug them against his chest with a withdrawn expression.
“If you hurt Sage, then I suggest you make peace with whatever gods you worship, Vale King, and do it quickly. The wrath of the Wild Hunt will be swift and ruthless.”
I was still reeling from the denouncement from the faun as we flew up the cliffs to the most secluded watchtower that overlooked Ergastiri.
Riordan was equally reserved as we landed and walked through the door in the base of the tower.
There had been no need to post any guards since Amira was able to craft wards that only allowed the three of us to pass through them.
“Riordan—” I began, finally attempting to break the heavy silence.
“It was confirmation of what we’d already suspected,” he interrupted, like he was reassuring me when I meant to be the one to set his mind at ease.
I wanted to push him to talk about it, but I could tell he wanted to focus wholly on the meeting at hand, so I held my tongue. The gods knew he would need all his wits.
We went up the stairs and down a short hallway to a door at which Riordan knocked politely while I collected the tunics that were folded on an accent table.
The door flew open to reveal a frazzled-looking kelpie whom I recognized as one of Balor’s personal attendants. There were a few enduring imprisonment alongside him in order to care for their king.
Kelpies could not be out of salt water for long, so one of the most challenging aspects of imprisoning them had been refilling tubs of fresh seawater twice a day. And the second most difficult had been keeping them clothed as they much preferred to be nude.
I tossed one of the long tunics in my hands at her torso to cover the female before catching much more than a glimpse of her lithe form.
Not that I found her enticing with her greyish-green skin covered in faint scales and swampy growths.
Her long dark hair seemed to be strewn with weeds and was always dripping all over the floor.
Not like Amira, I thought suddenly, shocked when the witch popped into my mind, but I did not seem to be able to help myself lately.
Riordan was usually the only person who affected me so strongly, and yet I was consumed by Amira at the most inopportune moments.
I had to know if her skin was as soft as it looked and whether her hair would flow through my fingers like fine strands of silk.
Would she blush as prettily for me as for Riordan?
“You again,” the kelpie seethed, freeing me from my sudden preoccupation, and I noticed Riordan had become engrossed in our bond as well. I realized too late that he could sense the nature of my distraction, so I was sure to keep my eyes away from him.
I refocused on the kelpie whose black lips curled at me as she narrowed green-and-gold reptilian eyes. Each of her movements were quick and angry as she yanked the long shirt over her head. “If our bodies are so offensive, then perhaps you should wear blindfolds,” she sneered.
“You may allow the Vale King to enter, my darling,” called King Balor’s deep and raspy voice from inside.
The glaring female grudgingly backed out of the door to let us enter the common room of the watchtower where Balor had made himself quite comfortable.
There were coverings over the windows that did not omit the light but muted it so the room was cast in the grey hues of the sky in springtime.
The furniture had been pushed to the edges of the room to make room for several enormous tubs of water in which the kelpies lounged.
“You are being held here as a prisoner, Your Majesty. You do not get to decline our presence if we feel inclined to question you,” I reminded King Balor.
No wonder you made no progress if all you do here is antagonize them, Riordan chastised me down the bond.
I do not like him, I responded.
The Kelpie King was sitting in the middle tub with two attendants on either side of him.
The male fed him rolls of raw fish and kelp: a delicacy that the kelpies evidently favoured.
The female squeezed an enormous sponge over Balor’s shoulders so water trickled over his skin as he levelled his reptilian eyes on me.
“You would deny me even the illusion of my dignity,” he retorted resentfully. “The Ktínos truly are as barbaric as your better kin would suggest.”
“That is enough,” Riordan hissed with an instant fury, even though I merely smirked at the tired insult. The fey king had been hurling it at me in different variations since he was first imprisoned. “You do not insult my skiá.”
Balor pursed his lips as he leaned back in the bronzed tub to consider us while raising both of his arms along the rim behind each attendant. The female shifted her sponge to his clavicle so the water rolled down his bare chest.
“You are protective of him, and yet you have not even bothered to fuck him,” he mused thoughtfully.
It was the first time the king managed to get a reaction out of me, and it made Balor smile cruelly when my face flushed with embarrassment and shame.
How the fuck did he even know something like that?
“I hear you have been busy repairing the Vale. I trust that you now understand the dangers of Rian’s power,” Balor redirected before Riordan could respond.
I could feel my skiá practically vibrating with his fury, but he managed to compose himself before he spoke.
“I need to know what happened to the Spring Court. You refuse to answer Orion, but you will answer me.”
“Hand over the Spring Court traitors to my daughter, who has been forced to rule in my absence, and perhaps then I will answer your questions,” Balor suggested.
“I cannot do that until I understand what happened,” Riordan insisted.
“Then I am afraid I cannot accommodate.”
“What do you want them for?” I demanded, my fists clenching in frustration.
Balor did not look inclined to answer me, but Riordan glowered at him until Balor sighed in apparent defeat.
“I wish to punish them, of course, for I am the one they have betrayed! I do not know why you care so much about what they have to say when all they do is lie. If you wish to execute the traitors yourself, then I could certainly be persuaded. Provided you allow me to watch.”
“We are keeping them alive. We have not yet had the chance to determine their individual guilt,” Riordan told the Spring King firmly.
And because he is so adamant that we kill them before talking to them. Makes me even more interested in what they may have to say, I added privately to Riordan whose agreement felt like a warm caress in my mind.
Balor did not respond, he merely turned his head to the male attendant who obliged him by placing another of those fishy rolls in his mouth.
“If you do not tell me what I need to know, then I have no choice but to take the word of the traitors concerning what happened. Though I would far rather have the word of another esteemed king,” Riordan insisted.
I knew he was merely stroking Balor’s ego, but it still took nearly every ounce of my willpower not to grimace.
The Kelpie King took his time carefully chewing and swallowing his food before he bothered to respond.
“Very well, King Riordan. I am nothing if not ever the fair and just king, so ask me your questions, and I will see if I can answer them.”
“What was the darkness that consumed Spring Court?” Riordan asked so quickly that I knew he had a ready list in his mind, ranked by priority.
“You already know that Rian is a Shadow-wielder and a world-eater. Why would you bother asking about that?” demanded Balor with obvious annoyance.
“Because I found it very strange that a man who was actively destroying an entire world would pause to try and save some of its people,” insisted my king.
“Then you have severely underestimated his cunning. What better way to plant spies in your realm than leaving supposed victims for you to take pity on?” Balor pointed out in condescension. “That is why you must kill them!”
This is useless, Riordan. There must be other avenues to getting our answers. All he does is lie, I urged.
“What about our deal?” Balor demanded, changing the subject suddenly. “You swore that if we lost our home then you would renegotiate our place here in the Vale.”
“I shall consider your request concerning the traitors,” Riordan told Balor who narrowed his eyes as if he could see through my king’s skepticism. “And I need to speak to my council before I approach such negotiations.”
“Careful, Vale King, lest you be taken in as many have been by a viper posed to strike you,” King Balor warned. “It will be your kingdom that pays the price if you do not heed Rian DorTìodhlac as the threat that he is.”