My focus shifted to Kaelun for a moment. “Is that true?”
He nodded in response.
Tucking that information into the back of my mind, I turned to his older brother, noting his grimace as he struggled to pull his tight leathers over his head.
“Say I concede to your point,” Tarrin said. “Do you believe that holding fast to these kinds of delineations is divisive or connective?”
“It’s not about that,” Kaelun argued. “It’s about respecting heritage.”
“And at what point does heritage trump peace?” Tarrin countered. “Because as I remember our feud from five hundred years ago,usversusthemwas the main tenet for war—and always is. When do we put aside what makes us different and celebrate what makes us the same? I’m assuming you have a dick, two balls, and fuck just the same as me, so as I see it, the words are synonymous. I don’t call youmanin insult. I call youmanas brethren.”
My focus had long since shifted from a struggling Sidrick to Tarrin, his wisdom pulling me up short—and oddly echoing Endymion’s sentiments on the matter. Kaelun stayed quiet as he reassessed his human counterpart. I’d read fae texts that immortalized the atrocities Thaddeus’ father had committed. The fae clutched onto their victimhood, passing it down from one generation to another. And who could blame them? He’d committed genocide. Even worse, his progeny breathed every breath with one goal in mind—to finish what had begun half a millennium ago.
I’d known this truth. Had truly thought I understood it from both sides. But as I stood there in the Autumn Court with black blood still caked on me in places, the fear of being captured nipping at our heels, and Tarrin’s words echoing in my mind, I realized I’d only understood it academically—had only ever understoodmypart in itacademically. Like those who learn history in a classroom, believing the past cannot crawl out of those pages and harm them, they do not heed the warnings as the guideposts they are meant to be but rather toss them aside like an outdated map they’ll never have to use.
How had I been so blind? Gods above and hells below, I’d been stupid. My mind raced to understand why Caius would ever agree to let me go into a viper’s den. Stars, IthoughtI’d understood Tarrin’s words when he explained why it made no sense—but again, I’d understood it academically. Even theoretically, I still didn’t fully comprehend the role I play in Lumnara’s decline, but I sure as hells understood genocide, and given the vile nature of this court, I was truly terrified to know what evils Wymond would create should he get his hands on me.
And then with the force of a thousand boulders, it finally hit me.
There was only one reason they’d risk going on this mission. That they’d riskmeending up in the hands of our enemies.
“You came here to kill them,” I said, my words filled with quiet disbelief.
Slowly, so slowly, Sidrick abandoned his efforts and turned to face me. The instant his deep mahogany eyes hit mine, I knew the truth.
Tarrin and Kaelun tensed by my sides.
“Wait,” Tarrin said, his voice lethal. “This was an assassination mission—and none of you felt the need to inform us?”
Sidrick didn’t answer, and of course he didn’t. Hecouldn’t. But the apology in his eyes let me know that he’d argued in favor of telling us.
“Who?” Tarrin demanded.
I let out a humorless laugh. “Both of them. That’s why Caius sparedbothof his commanders. One for Wymond. One for Thaddeus. Isn’t that right, Sidrick?”
The war Caius’ third waged against himself was evident, his mind raced in every which direction to explain, only he couldn’t find a way around the gag orderhis oath demanded of him.
Kaelun stepped up to his older brother, and the hurt that marred his features made him look younger as he looked up at Sidrick. Then, whispering more to himself than us, he said, “It’s true.”
“Kaelun, I’m sorry,” Sidrick said, reaching for his brother, who pulled away.
“Is there anything else you’ve kept to yourself that youcantell us?” Tarrin asked, and I didn’t miss how tight his jaw clenched, which meant only one thing—he was running out of patience.
The summer fae lowered his head before answering, and my heart sank. “I…” He stumbled over the word, then looked up, as if forcing himself to offer us the respect we deserved. “I don’t think I can valen anymore.”
“Sidrick!” I shrieked, but Tarrin lifted a finger to silence me. I saw then that he’d shifted from a man asking for answers to a commander demanding them so he could assess the situation and plan—regardless if he liked the information he received.
“Anything else?” The question laced with a low warning.
“No.”
“Okay then,” Tarrin said with a calm born of practice. “We’re still a good eighteen hours of straight travel away from the border. That’s without breaks, assuming you don’t deteriorate further, or that beasts don’t magically erupt from the ground. With you and Ny unable to valen, Kaelun limited to teleporting two of us to a place he’s seen before, and the very real possibility that Wymond would show up if we pulled that ripcord, it essentially takes that option off the table. And while I wasn’t keen on being in Artton’s place before, I’m certain I don’t want to be tortured for information on a dual assassination I know utterly nothing about—other than that it exists. Now, take off your damn base layer so we can patch you up so we can get the fuck out of this gods-forsaken land. Okay?”
No one argued. The truth was, between my revelation and Tarrin’s stark words, we were in trouble. Big trouble.
“I need help getting my shirt off,” Sidrick admitted, then turned so his back was facing us.
I gasped, bringing my hands up to my mouth to muffle the sound. His back was ruined. I stared in horror as blisters of black puss popped, only for his fae healing to swoop in and create a new one in its place.
