Raewyn made a little noise that sounded likeHmmphand was about to give me some sort of no-doubt sassy retort, when I slapped my hand over her mouth to silence her.
Be quiet,I warned without speaking aloud.We’re not alone.
Realizing belatedly she wasn’t Elven and couldn’t hear the mind-to-mind message, I whispered close to her ear, “Someone is coming this way.”
I hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary, but my ears had picked up traces of faint conversation.
Dryad conversation.
The aforementioned governess had taught me all the Fae dialects, and this one was unmistakable. Guttural and quick, it would sound like no more than birdsong and animal chatter to untrained ears.
Unfortunately it wasn’t just one or two voices, but several.
Shaded stars.I’d hoped we’d be able to pass through their territory without running into any Dryads. It was daytime after all, and they were mostly a nocturnal species.
No such luck. Based on the increased volume of their conversation, they were almost on top of us, and the dense trees would foil any effort to make a quick escape.
It was also impossible to hide an enormous horse—and a human, no matter how small she was. Raewyn had no speed or agility or cloaking glamour, and my own newly acquired shadow glamour was useless in the daytime.
If the Dryads spotted a mysterious dark cloud among the trees, they’d simply shoot it full of poison-tipped arrows, and we’d be dead in minutes.
I was going to have to talk my way out of this.
A moment later, they appeared, emerging from the underbrush. There were four of them. Males—hunters based on the weapons they carried.
With their rough, bark-like skin and green hair and eyes, Dryads were perfectly suited to forest life, their natural appearance giving them camouflage among the trees they resembled.
They stopped abruptly, eyes going wide at the unexpected sight of an Elf, a horse, and a human woman trespassing on their lands.
Four bows emerged, and four voices started peppering me with loud questions.
“What are you doing here, Elven scum?”
“You know better than to tread on our lands,” another one said.
The tallest one, a particularly ugly fellow who reminded me of a walking stick insect, smiled.
“A brave one, aren’t you? You’re not in Merisola now, lad.”
“Pretty far from the king’s road,” the fourth one said in a taunting tone. “No one’s going to hear you scream this deep in the woods.”
Either they knew I was King Pontus’ son, or their hatred of him had expanded to cover our entire race.
My father had made many enemies among the other Fae species. Like everyone else, they were afraid to defy him or threaten Elves—in public.
We were not in public.
Far from it.
I dismounted, keeping my sword sheathed, though my palms rested on the hilts of my daggers. Silently, I willed Raewyn to stay quiet and not attract any more attention to herself than necessary.
“Hello, friends,” I said in their language.
Several of them blinked, and one of them, the one who’d called me “Elven scum,” took a step closer to me.
“Friends?” he said. “Speaking our tongue doesn’t make you a friend, Elf boy.”
The fact he’d referred to me as a “boy” led me to believe he was much older, which was bad. All varieties of Fae became more powerful as they aged.
