“Why?” says Dyfri, and neither his tone or expression is giving anything away.
“Because now you think I’m conspiring against the fey, and this could escalate to a war.”
Dyfri crosses his arms over his chest. “Oh yes, because humans weresogood at fighting the fey when we stepped into your world and took control.”
I gulp.
“There wouldn’t be a war,” Dyfri continues. “Humans would be squished like bugs.”
I can feel all the blood draining from my face. Where it is going, I have no idea. All I know is that I’m pale and shaking.
Dyfri tilts his head to the side. “So are you going to call someone and attempt to have me neutralised before I can tell tales?”
My heart thumps low and heavy. I should. It is the sensible thing to do, but the thought of Dyfri being hurt is abhorrent.
“How about we sit down and have a talk before you decide to do something stupid?”
I sit, mostly because my legs feel like they might give out. Dyfri settles beside me, close enough that our knees almost touch.
“Tell me,” he says conversationally, “what do you know about seelie and unseelie fey?”
The change of topic gives me whiplash. “Nothing. Should I?”
“Probably, considering you married a fey.” His smile is wry. “We are ancient enemies, Jack. Two courts that have been at war for millennia. The seelie are considered the ‘lighter’ fey. More aligned with order, tradition, formal power structures. The unseelie are... chaotic. Darker. They favour destruction and change.”
I frown as I try to follow all of this.
“The fey currently occupying your world are seelie.” Dyfri’s voice takes on a harder edge. “But here’s what your government doesn’t know, what my brother doesn’t want to admit.” He pauses for a moment. “This entire invasion was orchestrated by the unseelie.”
My brain struggles to process this. “What do you mean, orchestrated?”
“I mean, they manipulated us into coming here. They played the long game with spies and infiltrators. Whispers and lies. Fed us intelligence about human military capabilities, convinced us that a swift occupation was necessary to prevent humans from developing weapons that could threaten the fey realm.” Dyfri’s jaw tightens. “They wanted us distracted, spread thin, fighting on multiple fronts while our homeland lies vulnerable.”
“You think they’re going to attack seelie lands while your armies are here?”
“I don’t think it, Jack. I know it. The signs have been building for months. Raids on Seelie settlements near the Unseelie borders. Strategic targets hit with surgical precision. They’re testing our defences, probing for weaknesses.”
The implications hit me like a freight train. “So, this whole invasion...”
“Is built on a lie.” Dyfri’s voice is bitter. “We’re trapped in an occupation we can’t afford to maintain while our real enemies mass for an attack behind our backs that we can’t defend against.”
I stare at him, my mind racing. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because,” Dyfri says quietly, “sooner or later, the seelie court is going to have to choose between holding onto this world or defending our own. And when that choice comes, a lot of people are going to die in the crossfire unless someone finds a third option.”
“What kind of third option?”
“The kind where humans reclaim sovereignty over their own world, and the seelie return to defend theirs before it’s too late.” Dyfri meets my eyes directly. “A managed withdrawal rather than a catastrophic retreat.”
It’s not what I expected him to say. Not at all. There’s something almost... hopeful about it. As if he actually wants humans to be free.
“You think that’s possible?” I ask.
“I think,” Dyfri says carefully, “that there are people on both sides who might be interested in exploring alternatives to the current arrangement.”
People. Like the mysterious Welsh man who vanished into thin air.
“And you’re one of them?” I ask quietly.
