For the first time, the fae’s eyes softened, though that softness did not land on me but on Anna. “I only wish to question her.” She gestured to the frozen ground. “And to get her out of this dungeon. It’s too cold for her kind.”
Something in the faerie’s face made me believe her. Or maybe it was the way she looked at and carried Anna, gently. Most fae didn’t physically harm humans, but they didn’t go out of their way to be kind to them either.
“We grew up together, so she’s very loyal to me. She might not tell you what you want to hear, so . . .” I trailed off. How to signal to Anna that I needed her to tell this fae the truth?
I did not like the rebels, but the enemy of my enemymight be my friend. If I played my cards right. If I got them to trust me.
“Tell her I wish for her to speak plainly to you. I swear on our twin scars I won’t be mad about what she says.”
I bore a crescent scar on my temple. Long ago, in another kingdom,another life, Anna had carved a similar one on her collarbone. Hopefully, what I said was enough for Anna to do as they wished.
And I prayed that the female was honest when she said Anna would be safe. If not, I’d never forgive myself.
“Very well.” The female climbed the stairs, pausing briefly at the top, almost as if she wished to say something more, before she exited the dungeon and left me alone in a cage, waiting for the others to wake.
Chapter 23
VALE
Igripped the bars of my cage, as furious as the moment I awoke in a dungeon.
Without windows to let in the sunshine, it was difficult to estimate the passage of time, but I guessed we’d been here for a day with little food and water, and only a bucket each to relieve ourselves in. I’d nearly lost it when Neve had needed to use her bucket with my friends and brothers as witnesses. Cloak covering her or not, I did not want others to see her like that.
“I swear to every dead god and goddess, I’m going tolose my bleeding mindif they don’t let us out soon.” Thantrel gripped the bars and leaned back on his heels, tipping his strong chin to the stone ceiling.
The youngest Riis brother was not one to be idle. Nor was I, for that matter, though the cages had outwitted me. Whatever ward was in the metal nullified each of our magics. Rynni’s dragon magic included.
“I hope Anna is safe,” Clemencia whispered.
Our human companion had not returned since the rebels had taken her. That I had not been awake for my mate in her time of distress only deepened my agony.
“The fae who took her said she wouldn’t hurt her,” Neve assured us. “And I didn’t hear anything like screaming afterwards.”
“We can’t hear anything at all! Nothing but the sound of our own voices!” Thantrel roared. “It’s maddening! What are they doing up there? I’m dying to go see.” He gazed at the stairs, as if there was some great treasure up the steps and not a horde of enemies.
“Andwhereis up there?” Duran added, frustration lacing his tone from where he sat, cross-legged, in his cage.
I cast a glance at Neve. She was laying down, curled in on herself, at the bottom of her enclosure. Her violet eyes were empty as she stared into space. My heart clenched. More than anything, I wished to hold my mate. To comfort her and tell her that I’d kill anyone who harmed her and Anna, but my words would be empty.
Stars, I despise being powerless. I wish—The door at the top of the stairs banged open.
“Haven’t I told you scum to be quiet!” A massive male fae with gray wings too small for his trollish frame appeared, a fresh scowl on an ugly face. Unlike when he berated us before, he didn’t just shout, shut the door, and leave. This time, the fae descended the steps, glittering black eyes narrowed upon us.
In one meaty hand he clutched a shimmering silver-white cloth that contrasted with his skin, which was as dark as the night sky.
“Prince.” The fae stopped before my cage. “We wish to question you.”
“Where’s Anna?” Neve rose from her lethargy. “That female with the scar over her eye was questioning her! Is she still alive?!”
“The human is fine. But she doesn’t have all the information we require.” Black eyes locked on me. “This prince might. Wrap this around your middle, under your shirt. Then tie it tight.”
He tossed the item in his hands through the bars. I caught it and recognized the material. Spider silk, like the gloves my twin wore. A better look revealed the silk to be a long ribbon as wide as my hand. This amount of material was unspeakably valuable.
“You’ll be going upstairs,” the male said. “That’ll stifle your magic.”
“My magic is the least of your worries,” I snarled, muscles tightening.
He chuckled. “You think you can fight me? I’m three times your size.”
