I stare at the flames. “But why fight at all? Aren’t you all fae?”
There’s a weird, sad silence. Cassius finally says, “It’s complicated.”
I shake my head. “I don’t get it. On the farm, things were far from perfect. But at the end of the day, we couldn’t just sit around fighting or nothing got done.”
Oberon snorts. “Maybe we should have put you in charge a century ago.”
Sylvian grins. “You’d make a fine queen.”
The thought makes me choke on my fruit. “No, thank you.”
But Ashton just leans back, hands behind his head. “You’ve got more sense than the rest of us combined. Maybe that’s why Varua chose you.”
I look at them, their perfect, ancient faces glowing in the firelight, the weight of maybe centuries behind every word, and I see, suddenly, how broken they all are. How badly they need to win, to be right, to never admit weakness.
“Can I ask another question?” I say, bracing myself.
Cassius nods, radiating patience. “Of course.”
“How old are you? All of you.”
They hesitate. Sylvian answers first. “Three hundred and seven.”
Oberon grudgingly says, “Three hundred and five.”
Ashton jokes, “Three-oh-one.”
Cassius quietly answers, “Three hundred and twelve.”
I stare at them, then let out a weak laugh. “You’re all three hundred years old or more… and you still fight like children.”
There’s a pause. Then Sylvian chuckles, warm and genuine. Ashton laughs too, loud and unembarrassed. Even Cassius smiles, just a flicker, as Oberon scowls, but doesn’t argue.
“We’ve had a long time to perfect ourpleasantpersonalities,” Ashton says, mock serious.
I shake my head, and can't help but smile. “Maybe that’s why you needed a human. To remind you how to act like adults.”
Cassius inclines his head. “You may be right.”
The warmth returns, just a little, as we sit there eating and relaxing after a long day of riding and walking. I’m about to pass out when Cassius asks, “How old are you, Alette?”
“Twenty-three,” I mumble.
Sylvian, with a sleepy smile, says, “Yet, she’s the most mature one here.”
I close my eyes. Me? Mature? I’ve never really thought about myself that way, but maybe I am. And maybe I do have something to add to this quest after all.
Something other than being the “chosen one.”
19
Alette
I’mjolted awake from a dreamless sleep, my heart pounding, overcome by a need to run. To hide. The remnants of sleep cling to my mind like cobwebs, but as I blink open my eyes, I feel goosebumps roll down my spine.
Something’s wrong. But what?
I scan the dimly lit space around me, watching as shadows dance across the labyrinth hedges like phantoms. The fire has long since died down, leaving behind only the faintest glow. All it does is illuminate just enough of the clearing we’re in to make everything look eerie and frightening.
