“Ooh,” I said. “We should start a pool. The demons would get in on that.”
Cellen hissed something at Taraghlan once more, and he held up his hand, clearly pissed. “Are you insinuating that I would break my vow?”
Oh, I’m sure you would if you thought you could get away with it, you prick.
“Merely making it clear that if I don’t walk out of here with what I want, you don’t get what you want either.”
Taraghlan stared at me in silence, clearly debating with himself. Finally, he nodded at one of his guards, who moved toward a small chest near the throne. He took a key from his pocket and opened the chest, revealing a gold ring. I peered at it. Every part of the band was heavily engraved, and something about it pricked at my memory.
Another guard stepped closer to me, holding out his hand for the sword. I held out my other hand, waiting for the ring. From the amusement that flickered across the seelie king’s face, he found us all endlessly entertaining. Goodie.
The guard placed the spelled ring in my right hand, and I opened my left hand, giving them the sword in return.
A weight slowly floated off my shoulders. The moment Samael killed Ben, a ball of dread had formed in my gut, and I’d carried it around ever since. This didn’t remove it, but it felt lighter, tempered by hope.
“Not long now, Samael.”
He didn’t reply. I didn’t think he could.
Taraghlan nodded at the ring in my hands. “The spell must be used at the witching hour.” I mentally translated that. Midnight.
This was why he’d kept us waiting. By the time we got back tonight, it would be too late. That meant I’d have to wait an entire day. My hands were fisted so tight, my nails were cutting into my palms.
The bastard had given us the counter spell, but he’d wasted enough time that Samael could die anyway—something that would work out well for him
The king was still talking, and I glanced up at him.
“What was that?”
Irritation twisted his lips as he stared at me, likely unused to repeating himself. “Exactly three days after you use the counter spell, the ring must be returned to me.”
I scowled. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”
He ignored that. “Cellen will find you and you will give it to him.”
I stiffened. “You’ll be able to use the counter spell to the Spell of Three again, won’t you?”
Taraghlan stared at me silently. Son of a bitch. I’d assumed it was a one-and-done kinda thing. He smiled, obviously following my train of thought. His expression was so smug, my fist ached with the need to slam into his face.
“The counter spell may be used three times. I have used it once. You will use it once, and I will be able to use it once more. After that use, there will be no counter spell left in any of the realms.”
“Fine.” I glanced at the golden sword in his guard’s hand. “Nice doing business with you.”
Taraghlan’s gaze dropped to the sword and lit up with a combination of pleasure and hope. I shook my head and turned to leave. The guy was planning to use the sword to kill the unseelie king, and he gazed at it as if it was his lover.
Kyla was tense, both of us silent as we left the seelie realm. I was convinced someone was going to come and steal the counter spell at any moment, and from the low growls that occasionally left her throat, and the suspicious look in her eyes whenever we passed the seelie, I was guessing she felt the same.
Finally, we were driving back through the portal.
“Was that true?” Kyla asked.
“Was what true?”
“The whole blade-melting thing.”
I snorted. “Nope.”
Her mouth dropped open, and I grinned at her. “But the king couldn’t risk it. The fae can’t lie, so they’re unused to dealing with creatures who can. But a seelie as old as Taraghlan would have plenty of ways to get around their oaths and vows. I had to make him think I’d destroy the sword rather than walk out of there empty-handed.”
