So why did Cairn drink mine?
One of the males stumbles to his feet when Cairn walks toward the wagon. He drops to his knees, head bowed.
“Eldráfn.”His voice shakes. “We thought you were dead.”
Another fae slides to their knees, then another, until all six are kneeling, their eyes fixed on Cairn with expressions of awe, disbelief, and hope.
“Please, get up.” Cairn’s voice is soft. “None of you need to bow before me.”
They rise, still staring at him like he’s a miracle made flesh.
“Can you ride?”
All six nod. “We were being taken as part of a dance troupe. Keeping us healthy was in their best interests.”
“Good.” He turns to Vel. “Check the other two wagons. See if there are clothes in there they can change into.” His head turns slightly, attention shifting to something I can’t see. “We’re close to where we need to be. A few hours’ ride at most. No more stopping now until we reach them.”
Them?Who are we going to meet?
“Therin, check the horses. Pick out six, and release the rest.”
The horses are nervous, stamping and pulling at their leads, made anxious by the smell of blood. Therin moves among them and gradually they settle.
Once the fae have been given better clothing, and they’re mounted on horses, Vel, Therin and Cairn summon their steeds, and I find myself lifted onto Selveryn’s back before I’ve quite processed what’s happening.
Cairn swings up in front of me, and my arms wrap around his waist, my cheek pressing against his back. After what I’ve just witnessed, what I felt while I was inside his mind as he killed, it feels different … more dangerous.
“Stop thinking so loud.” His voice carries back to me, as he touches his heels to Selveryn’s flanks. “I can feel it.”
My face burns, and I have to stop myself from burying it between his shoulders. “I wasn’t?—”
“You were.” There’s a dark edge of amusement in his voice. “And I can’t decide if I should be flattered or concerned.”
I have no answer for that. There’s absolutely nothing I can say that won’t make it worse.
Selveryn starts forward, breaking into a smooth canter that reminds me of a normal horse. There’s no warping of the scenery, it stays smooth and flowing. Behind us, the others follow. The freed fae ride awkwardly, but they’re riding. They’re free.
Because of him, and what he just did.
I watched him, Vel and Therin kill a dozen men without hesitation. I should hate him for it. I should be looking for any opportunity to run. Instead, I’m thinking about the way he looked as he moved. And the expression on his face as he looked at me across the road with blood still dripping from his blades.
I’m so screwed.
THIRTY-FOUR
CAIRN
The pull has beensteady all afternoon, drawing me eastward with an insistence that has grown stronger with every mile. I know who they are now. The threads are no longer just a vague impression. They’re clear enough for me to be able to identify each one.
Kaelith. Sorel. Vessara.
Three more of my Guard. Alive. And somehow, impossibly, free.
The road crests a low rise, and a village appears in the valley below. There must be thirty or forty buildings clustered around a central square. Smoke rises from chimneys. Lamplight glows in windows as the sun drops toward the horizon …
And the threads lead directlyintoit.
I pull Selveryn to a halt, and Alleria’s arms tighten around my waist, her body tensing against my back.
