“The villagers have no word of her. She’s either returned to the DragonLands or has gone to ground.”
“She needs to go straight to the godsdamned Icewolds.” Faraday glowers.
“Eventually.” Rivon nods. “All betrayers wind up at the mercy of the Icewolds in time.”
“She’s still here.” I roll my shoulders. “I can feel her, creeping our territory. She won’t give up on trying to take the throne, and she’ll have another 20 years to wait if she can’t get her talons into Larellin.” I grit my teeth.
“We won’t let that happen.” Fyan, serious for once, meets my eye. “We still have Firefolk at all entrances.”
“We have more than that. I gave a scale to the pixies?—”
Brin gasps. “What?”
“Van.” Faraday scrubs a hand down his face.
“It will grow back. Besides, it’s worth it. They’ll warn us the moment Sela makes herself known.”
“It will grow back?” Rivon leans back and pins me with a stare. “In one hundred years, it will grow back. Until then, you’ll be far more vulnerable. Tell me it wasn’t one of your chest scales.”
“It wasn’t.” I don’t tell him it came from my side, only a hair less dire. Dragon scales are extremely valuable to all faekind. Pixies, especially, who use them to fortify their birthing cocoons, protecting their young from all manner of predators. What I traded is worth a fortune, but I was happy to pay it. If it keeps me from feeling the way I felt when I saw her falling, the way I felt when she burned with fever, the way I felt when I feared she would die—I don’t mention it to my brothers, but I would’ve traded two scales for that reassurance.
“Sela isn’t our only problem.” Brin rubs his temple. “The vampires are unhappy with the Arbiter about the Bargain.”
“How many years has it been since they were chosen?” Fyan asks.
“Over a century,” Brin says. “They’re angry. And with Orion riling them up with claims of breaking the truce and taking the mortal realm by force, this Bargain may be what finally sends them over into madness. If they try to invade the mortal lands?—”
“All of Oblivion will go to war.” I lean against the hearth, my back to the flames. “We have enough problems without the vampires wrecking the peace with the mortals.”
“What of Nilufer?” Faraday asks. “Isn’t this her battle?”
Rivon scoffs. “For her to claim a vampire throne she hates? Sure, how about you urge her to do that the next time you see her, and we’ll find out if you still have a liver afterwards.”
Faraday shrugs one shoulder. “Okay, fair point there.”
“One problem at a time.” Rivon turns to me. “Our priority is Larellin. We must know if she’s the one who can break the curse.”
“She’s not ready.” I won’t force her. That’s never been part of my plan. We aren’t brutes.
“Do you need some lessons from me on how to woo a female, big brother?” Faraday grins. “I can counsel you on getting her on her back. First?—”
“If you value your tongue, you’ll stop right there.” I glare at him.
He has the nerve to look offended. “I was only trying to help.”
“I don’t need any help with wooing Larellin.”
“But you haven’t bedded her,” Rivon says gently. “Until you do, we won’t know if she’s the key. The Arbiter must believe she very well could be.”
“Don’t pretend to know the Arbiter’s mind.” I let irritation leak into my tone. “We can’t put any faith in her, not when she hasn’t deigned to leave her citadel in an age. We can’t even say for certain she’s actually watching over the Bargain. She could be dead for all we know.”
“I don’t believe that,” Fyan says quietly. “There has to be a reason she chose you for this Bargain.”
“I hate to agree with the whelp, but he has a point,” Brin says.
“Whelp?” Fyan scoffs at him.
“You have to bed her, Van. It’s the only way to know for sure.” The wolven chews on his pipe. “There’s nothing for it. The DragonKin can’t wait another 20 years for a chance. No DragonKin children can be born anywhere outside the DragonLands. It’s been ages since this world has welcomed a newly swaddled dragon babe.” He gives me a somber look. “You’re a dying breed.”
