‘Where is Wren?’ the Fae asked, though his tone carried more weariness than hope.
Kage exhaled slowly. ‘She’s with the valkyrians now.’
‘And how do I get her back?’
‘You don’t.’
The Fae gave a small nod, as though the answer had already nested somewhere in his mind, waiting to be spoken aloud. As though voicing it might help him accept it, make it real.
‘Where are you headed?’ Kage asked, genuine curiosity surfacing.
‘North,’ the Fae replied simply. ‘If Wren returns… she may go home. So I’ll be there, waiting for her when she does.’
Kage doubted that. Not out of cruelty, but clarity, though he kept the thought to himself.
‘Why not return to your own land?’ he asked instead.
The Fae only shrugged, his stare pinned to the fire as he tore into another bite of meat. He then gestured towards it, vaguely amused. ‘I’d offer you some, but I know wyverians can’t stomach normal food.’
‘How considerate,’ Kage replied drily.
The Fae chuckled, a low, sardonic sound. ‘It won’t be easy getting through my kingdom unnoticed, but I’ve got my ways.’ He cast a sidelong glance at Kage, his expression unreadable. ‘The Black Lotus will probably try to cut myhead off.’
Kage’s eyes narrowed slightly, studying the man in silence. Arden stood tall, his skin as deep and rich as the short dark dreadlocks bound neatly at the back of his head. There was something undeniably regal about the Fae—perhaps it was the antlers. Arden’s were larger than most, sweeping in graceful arcs that lent him an air of quiet majesty, though their size raised more than a little curiosity. Kage had read enough about the Black Lotus to know the stories were not exaggerated. They were no ordinary warriors. Mercenaries, forged by pain, honed in the dark under the king’s hand. Tortured into loyalty since childhood, they were whispered of in the northern kingdoms like deathless phantoms. And their methods of killing were as legendary as they were horrific.
‘Are you a Black Lotus?’ Kage asked, uncertain. It was difficult to tell. This Fae certainly moved with the precision and poise the old tales whispered of, every motion deliberate, efficient, honed.
‘I’m Arden Briar,’ the Fae replied instead, inching closer and extending a hand in greeting.
Kage stared at it for so long that Arden frowned, then quickly wiped the grease from his palm onto his trousers. At last, and with visible reluctance, Kage reached out and shook it.
‘Not much of a shaker, are you?’
‘Not much of anything,’ Kage muttered.
Arden’s gaze shifted to the shadow crow. ‘Interesting looking bird.’
‘You can’t eat it,’ Kage warned flatly.
The crow gave an indignant flap of its wings, clearly offended.
Arden raised both hands in mock surrender, chuckling. ‘Wouldn’t dream of it. I’ve heard all manner of things about shadows.’ Kage didn’t ask for elaboration, but the Fae leaned inanyway, eyes gleaming with a storyteller’s grin. ‘They say they can drag you straight into the Underworld, wrap around you like smoke and pull you down.’ He gave a careless shrug. ‘So tell me, are all wyverians this...’ He hesitated, searching. Kage arched a brow, unimpressed,‘dark?’
Kage’s silence remained as still and unreadable as stone.
Arden laughed and leaned back. ‘Right then. I’ll shut up and eat my dinner.’ He returned to his place by the fire, tearing another bite from the meat. ‘Funny, you make me sound just like Wren.’
Kage’s chest ached at the sound of her name, sharp and sudden.
‘Are they going to follow me into my kingdom?’ Arden asked after a pause, nodding at the crow and the wolf.
Kage shrugged, his usual answer to most things.
‘Well, if they do,’ Arden said, settling into a more comfortable sprawl, ‘do try to keep up. Oh, and wake me before sunset, would you?’
There is something fascinating in the way voting is conducted among valkyrians.
To cast a vote, they must draw their own blood and let it fall into one of their sacred pools. The water either remains clear or turns red, revealing the will of the voter. Though valkyrians cannot harm themselves—protective runes etched across their skin prevent such wounds—these enchantments make an exception for the ritual of voting, allowing just enough blood to be drawn.
