“And we will lose men if it’s a trap.” My father rises from his chair and the room quietens. “We will confirm what thesituation is first. Marak.” He turns to Lord Marak, the general of his army. “Send a scouting party, armed but cautious. Once we have information, then we decide how to respond.”
If my dream was real … if I really saw what he did … then the scouts my father is sending are going to find bodies and empty cages.
“Your Majesty.” Lord Vessen speaks again. “If the collars at the Dell have been broken, what of the other fae? What about the ones kept in homes and in other preserves? Should we be warning those who own them?”
“Yes. We will issue warnings, and request mages check every ward and collar they can.”
The discussion continues, but my mind is still caught up in the nightmare I had, replaying it in my head over and over. The way the poker glowed as Cairn pressed it to Cowen’s cheek. The crack of bone as his fingers were severed one by one. The smell of burning flesh.
I didn’t just see it. Ifeltit. The rage, the satisfaction, the deliberate cruelty.
How is that possible?
“—anything you can tell us that might help?”
I blink. My father is standing beside my chair, the council chamber emptying around us.
“I’m sorry. What?”
“The fae—the one who took you. Is there anything you remember that might help us understand what has happened, and what it’s thinking? Anything about how it escaped or how it might have broken through the wards?”
The nightmare rises in my mind again. Bodies with their throats cut. Cowen screaming. His head on the wall.
I can’t tell him that. I can’t say Idreamedit without sounding crazy. And even if I could explain it, if they believed me, whatwould happen then? They’d want to know how I’m seeing things that happened miles away.
And I don’t have answers for that.
“No.” I force myself to meet his eyes. “There’s nothing I can tell you that I haven’t already said.”
He studies me for a long moment. I hold his gaze and try not to think about blood and burning flesh, and the sound of Cowen’s screams.
“Very well.” He sighs. “You can go. I have to go and speak further with Marak.”
My legs don’t feel entirely steady when I stand up. But I walk to the door, with my back straight. The hallway beyond is crowded with lords, ladies and courtiers wanting to know what the meeting was about, their voices raised in heated discussion. I keep my head down and move through them as quickly as I can.
The whispers start before I’ve even taken ten steps.
“—the princess defended fae, and now they’re breaking free?—”
“Quite the coincidence, don’t you think?”
“My husband says she hasn’t been right since she came back.”
I walk faster, but the whispers follow me.
“Something is wrong with her, you can see it in her eyes.”
“She screams in her sleep.”
“Fae do things to the mind.”
By the time I reach the east wing, my hands are shaking. I press them flat against my thighs to still them, but the trembling just moves up into my arms.
And then Lady Maren steps into my path.
She’s flanked by her two companions, the same two who were discussing fae entertainment in the gardens.
“Princess.” Maren’s voice is smooth and sweet, and carries just far enough for the people behind me to hear. “How terrible this must be for you.”
