“I know that one,” came a new voice.
I turned to see another fae leaving the revels to join us. His skin gleamed a burnished copper, and his hair trailed behind him in a froth of white, like a ribbon of sea-foam. The silver chains adorning his ears sparkled merrily in the candlelight.
Grinning, he raised one jewel-encrusted arm to point at Gareth. “Him. I know him.”
Gareth turned ashen, every muscle in his body pulling taut. “Luthaes,” he whispered. There was real fear in his voice, and the sound slicked my bones with dread. Gareth’s reaction could mean only one thing: Luthaes had been in Mhorghast during Gareth’s imprisonment. I glanced at Posey, a question in my eyes—Do you know him?—but her expression was one of utter confusion. When our eyes met, she shookher head at me ever so slightly.
“And him. And her.” The fae, Luthaes, pointed to Ryder, then to Farrin. I didn’t like his turquoise eyes; they were too bright, too cold. “They stole my prize from me. A wilder woman. Very pretty. Same coloring as you.” He considered Ryder, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Are you her brother? How touching.”
Ryder’s hand twitched as if he wanted to reach for Farrin. But he stayed right where he was, his jaw working.
“They stole from you?” Lady Ifanna regarded us with fresh amusement. “Luthaes, I’m disappointed. They’re only human.”
“Yes, but that one has a voice like nothing I’ve ever heard,” said Luthaes, nodding at Farrin. “She doesn’t look like much, but don’t let that fool you.”
Farrin’s hands were in fists at her sides, her lips pressed together hard.
“And him.” Luthaes pointed once more at Gareth with a little chuckle. He drawled his words, very clearly drunk. “He was one of his favorites. So much mind to grab on to.”
Gareth recoiled as if Luthaes had struck him. Seeing the bleak look on his face made me boil, and I looked at Lady Ifanna with a hot-footed panic skittering up my spine. A fae who’d had at least some power in Mhorghast was here in the Veiled Court, and given the careless way he had approached the throne, he was no doubt favored by the queen.
He was one of his favorites.
Hisfavorites.
Kilraith.
We had said as much in the Warden’s office, Gareth and I, discussing the possibility of Lady Ifanna’s great prize being one of theytheliadanchors.
Either Lady Ifanna stole it from him…
Or she is an ally of Kilraith.
Ifanna must have seen the realization dawning on my face, for her grin turned feral.
“You do have one of Kilraith’s anchors,” I said, my mouth dry and my blood roaring. “And you didn’t steal it from Mhorghast. Kilraith gave it to you.”
“For safekeeping,” Ifanna replied, snapping her fingers. One of the guards flanking her throne brought her the discarded chalice. She took a long, slow sip from it, her eyes never leaving mine. “What a shame. The next time the Order decides to ally with a fae, perhaps you should choose one who isn’t a traitor and can actually bring you reliable intelligence.”
“Youare the traitor!” Posey cried, lurching hard against her escort’s grip. “That creature endangers both worlds. We must unite against him!”
Her escort released her just long enough to strike her hard across the face. Her knees buckled, and when she looked up, green blood stained her lips.
Beyond her, the entire hall had gone silent. Hundreds of eyes watched us. Even the candles’ flames seemed to still.
Ifanna regarded Posey with contempt. “Creature? An ugly word for a magnificent being. But I should’ve expected nothing less from a Frinthian. He Who Is All was right to destroy your kind. He must have sniffed out the deception brewing in your veins and knew the only way to rid us of it was extermination. Which makes you a novelty, Posey. The only Frinthian left alive. What a trophy you are. I think I shall keep you.”
Posey made a choking sound and staggered as if her escort had kicked her in the gut. Stone-faced, his skin white as the moon, he held her up, not letting her fall even as she howled out her grief. Her screams echoed eerily throughout the cold hall.
“Enough of this,” Ryder growled. He was practically vibrating withfury. “You knew we were coming, and now we’re here. What do you want with us?”
Before she could answer, Gareth, held fast in the grip of his captor, took a small step forward. “If Your Majesty will permit me,” he said, his voice strong and clear, “I would like to propose an accord.”
A wave of excited whispers hissed through the hall. Lady Ifanna stared at Gareth with a new, eager light in her eyes.
“An accord?” Her voice slithered. “The last resort of the desperate prisoner. Do tell.”
Stunned, furious, I watched her slink toward Gareth. The lanterns all around us silvered the lenses of his glasses. He was terribly pale, his brow slick with sweat. I could have killed him. An accord with a fae was no small thing. Even uttering the word was like setting a paper ablaze. Once done, it could not be undone.
