But it’s the light-haired Crow who answers, “Weleath’cinnaren’t immortal. Well, those of us with a human parent.”
I take it thatlehkenmeans half-Crow. I also take it that Reid is not including me in thethose with a human parentgroup.
He sets the chair down for Phoebus, then lingers beside our table, hands on his narrow hips. “You were not aware, daughter of Cathal and Zendaya?”
“Fallon. Daughter of Cathal and Zendaya is a bit of a mouthful. And no, I was not aware. What about the progeny of Faeries and Crows? Are they immortal?”
Phoebus sighs, scooting himself under the tiny table. “Faeries and Crows cannot conceive children. Conflicting blood. Crows have too much iron, and iron poisons Fae.”
My mouth parts. Gods, I know nothing.
Right as Connor’s son begins to turn away, I call him back, “Reid, right?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you for keeping my friend company.”
Pink streaks across Phoebus’s cheekbones. “You make me sound like some abject runt.”
Not my intent.
“Your friend has many interesting stories.” Reid’s jaw isn’t as square as his father’s, and his skin, a much lighter shade of brown, like his hair, and yet there is a lot of Connor in that face.
“I’m certain you must have plenty of your own.”
“Not yet.” A tepid smile slides across his mouth. “But hopefully I will get to make more stories this time around. If our king can keep himself in one piece, that is.” He reaches for something behind the bar—an extra plate and goblet. “A feat when one’s curse-breaker favors the Fae lands.”
My spine stiffens at his quietly delivered affront. I’m tempted to engage, but Phoebus clasps my knee under the table and gives his head a little shake.
Reid backs away. “I’ll go fetch you some food.”
“No meat or fish,” Phoebus instructs. “And not too much salt, or I’ll be spilling way too many secrets again.”
Reid nods before finally turning away.
“I do not favor the Fae lands,” I mutter once it’s only the two of us.
Phoebus cocks his head to the side.
“I don’t, Pheebs. I only went there to find Meriam.”
“A task you could’ve left for immortals to oversee.”
“I assumed, when I left here, that my grandmother was on the run and that she’d run straight for me.”
“Picolina, if she’d been on the run and had run straight for you, what makes you think she wouldn’t have run you through?”
“If she’d wanted me dead, she would’ve killed me already. She wouldn’t have stopped at binding my magic.”
“Unless she couldn’t kill you at the time.”
I frown. “The woman created a magical barrier with her blood, Pheebs. She kidnapped my mother. Herowndaughter.” I don’t tell him about Gabriele’s belief that Meriam would’ve killed Zendaya. I’m afraid that speaking it aloud will somehow make it true. “Do you really think that someone as powerful and twisted as she is would have the least bit of trouble murdering another?”
Phoebus’s eyes are glazed in thought. “I meant that maybe she struck a bargain or something that kept her from killing you.”
“With who?”
“Marco?” He shrugs. “Who knows?”
