His jaw flexed as he took a moment to respond. “You’re right. That’s unfair of me to say. Here.” He gestured for us to take a seat on the ground. “Let’s have a seat, not as adversaries on this, but from a place of wanting to understand each other.”
I eyed him, wondering what his angle was. “And you’ll finally listen to me on this, like really listen?”
Putting two fingers to his lips, then touching his chest just above his heart, he said, “As the Mother is my witness.”
I learned about this tradition in one of the many books I’d consumed lately but hadn’t seen it in practice until that moment. It wasn’t a bargain, but theMother’s Oathwas a promise that the fae took seriously—each court having a different tradition as to how it was ‘vowed.’ There were even folk tales that had made their way into children’s books warning that a fae who promised on the Mother could be stripped of their powers should they falter—in fact, some went as far as to claim that it was the reason the ancients of old had lost some of their power, even worse was that a fae could become human.
Still hesitant, I took a seat, leaning against one of the smooth tree trunks, Caius mirroring me only a pace or so away.
“I must ask,” Caius started, “are you afraid that we will use the information we glean against you for our own gain, or are you afraid of reliving the memory?”
I swallowed hard, his question cutting through all of my defenses. Was I truly afraid they’d use what they’d learn to steal the power for themselves, or was that merely an excuse to shield myselffrom reliving the memory? Because if it was anything like the vision Endymion and I had shared…
I shuddered at the thought.
“It’s both, Caius,” I said in truth. “And yes, I’m terrified to relive that memory.”
He made to speak, but I lifted a finger.
“Evenifyou believe I won’t witness it in any meaningful way,” I said, acknowledging his counterargument before it could be made. “As for the other part, can you truly sit there and tell me in earnest that you’d willingly hand over the keys to stealingyourpowers?”
He regarded me for long moments, his tempestuous eyes going distant before refocusing. “No,” he finally said in earnest. “I’d be lying if I said I would. But my reasons would be prideful. Truth is, the fallout of someone stealing my powers is inconsequential in the grand scheme. It would just mean there would be a new High Lord of the Summer Court.”
“So, you’re saying that I should say yes because there’s more at stake?”
He nodded slowly. “I suppose I am.”
“Shouldn’t it being a higher risk mean that I should guard the truth at all costs?”
“No. It should mean that you guard your power at all costs.”
“I don’t understand the difference,” I said, flushing from my heart kicking up in frustration and defiance.
“Nyleeria,” he said gently, leaning toward me a fraction. “Don’t you understand your enemies already hold the key? Thaddeus knows how to steal your power, and we can only assume that he’s shared that knowledge with Wymond as part of their deal. Is it a risk to share the key with us? Yes, of course. But isn’t it reckless to dismiss an offer to change the lock if we can?”
“Damn it,” I breathed, the word thick with emotion. “I hate this. One impossible decision after another.” My chest was heavy and my eyes burned, as I choked on the bubbling emotions. Collectingmyself enough to gain my wits, I asked, “Have you heard from Endymion?”
The High Lord’s brows pulled together. “No, I haven’t,” he answered, his tone almost cautious.
“Is that normal?”
The crease between his brows deepened a fraction. “No.”
Ignoring the ache in my chest, I took a moment to gather what resolve I had left and sat tall. “Okay, Caius. I’ll do it, but under two conditions.”
Chapter 28
The Mother’s Oath
My conditions were simple:
One, anyone in attendance had to perform the Mother’s Oath. Whatever we learned—if anything—from my memory could not be used against me, nor could it be spoken about to anyone outside those who took the oath. I would have preferred for this to be a bargain, but the truth was that bargains were tete-a-tete, which meant a group could not enter into one. Another limitation of the wild magic that binds bargains was that one could only enter into two bargains within their lifetime. Or at least that was the law. Technically, one could do it more than twice, but it was believed that a bargain’s mark had a certain level of toxicity, and those broke the cardinal rule slowly went mad.
The second condition I’d presented to Caius wasn’t received as well, but he relented. I couldn’t help but shake a gnawing feeling that Endymion’s silence was a bad omen, and risking five more weeks to mount a rescue for the twins was untenable. We’d finally agreed that we’d go no later than a week from when Tarrin wakes up, given he might have valuable information that could change our plans.
Was I the biggest fan of Cassy and Leighton? No. But I’d stopped questioning why rescuing them was so important to me and accepted that compassion—even for those that hurt me—was a part of who I was. Though, I doubted that would ever extend to Thaddeus.
“Those were some ballsy demands you made of Uncle C,” Kaelun said at my side.
