What did Leoake have on him?
Dyna crossed her arms, Fair standing beside her like her own guard.
“So we at last meet again, ye fair maid.”
She cut to the point. “What do you want?”
He laughed. “I want many things, but at this moment, I desire a key.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Akey?”
“Well, parts of a key.” With a twist and flick of his hand, Leoake conjured a cylindrical case about a foot long made of dark green leather, gilded with leaves on the ends, and tied with gold twine. On it was a sigil she had not seen before. He handed it to her. “It’s a bronze key from the First Age. Broken into two pieces a long time ago.”
Opening the cap, Dyna poured out the scroll. The parchment was very old. She unrolled the page and looked upon a faded drawing of an ancient elaborate key.
Leoake’s ringed finger traced the long stem of the key from the bow to the shoulder. “The shank is your priority.”
“You only want one piece?”
“Both pieces, but you only need to find one.”
Dyna furrowed her brows at that odd explanation. “Then the geas will be removed?” she reiterated, leaving no chance to be tricked again. “I will owe you nothing after?”
He steepled his fingers, a sly smile on his lips. “That is our agreement. Retrieve the key, and our deal will be complete.”
Dyna exhaled a breath. Sounded easy enough. She had feared his demand would be much worse. May as well do this so she could be done with him.
“A broken key,” she mused, studying the page. “What is the point if the bit is also missing? Without both pieces, the key won’t be of any use.”
“The bit will be safe in your pocket by the time you retrieve the shank.”
She narrowed her eyes. Because of course he must have planned out everything perfectly. It was a beautiful ornate key, yet otherwise unremarkable. But she wasn’t stupid enough to think it was worthless. “What does the key open, Leoake?”
“A lock,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Dyna clenched her jaw so she wouldn’t kick his shin. “What kind of lock?”
“A rusty one.”
She stifled a groan. Whatever. He wouldn’t tell her what the key would open. The tricksy fae could keep his secrets. For now. “All right, and where is this key piece I must find?”
Leoake’s smile grew, and Dyna knew she wouldn’t like the answer. “Red Highland. The Blood Keep, to be exact.”
“Are you mad?” she exclaimed. “The Blood Keep is a prison. It’s as guarded as the border, if not more. Entering the Vale of the Elves to steal from them is foolhardy, even I know that.”
He waved his hand with a chuckle. “Yes, well, that is beside the point.”
“Are you hearing yourself? You want me to sneak into a warring kingdom with a high chance of death to retrieve a broken piece of metal. How will I ever cross their borders?”
“Oh, ye of little faith.” The Druid pouted, clapping his hands together. “I am most affronted that you have so little trust in me.”
“I do not trust you at all,” Dyna growled.
Chuckling, he said, “Worry not. All will be clear soon enough. Aye, to do this, you must put your life on the line, as you like to do. Nonetheless, I believe in you.”
“You mean you have seen it.”
He waved his hands in a flamboyant display and bowed mockingly. “That is what Seers do, clever mortal. Wesee.”
