“Perhaps add,We come in peace.” Justus shrugs when my father shoots him a glower. “It may incite them toopen upquicker.”
Reluctantly, my father adds,We come in peace.His tone is so gruff, it sounds more like he says,We’ll chop you into pieces. I’m almost surprised when metal clicks and hinges groan, and the large wood door is drawn open.
A silver-eyed, silver-haired halfling regards the lot of us guardedly. “On the market for a sleigh?”
“On the market for a runaway princeling.” My father is so tall that he need not extend his head to peer over the old man, who’s far from short himself.
“I’m afraid I’ve none in stock.”
My father’s striped gaze drops while the corners of his mouth lift, and then he guffaws, which makes the man white-knuckle his door.
I shuffle in front of my father before he can stop the man’s heart. “General Salom has informed us that some foreigners paid you a visit last night.”
The male’s gaze brushes over me, lingering on my purple eyes. “The general’s mistaken. We’ve had no visitors.”
Justus sidesteps me. “Here.” He pulls out his ruby-encrusted snuffbox and thumbs the top lid open. “A pinch of salt does wonders for one’s memory.”
“My memory works fine. Now, if I may kindly ask you to leave . . .”
As he begins to shut the door in our faces, smoke distorts the lines of my father’s body. I lay a quick hand on his arm to keep him from rushing inside and murdering everyone, then call out to Lore,No cutting off any appendages.
A grunt sounds through the mind link, because of course my mate is contemplating bodily harm to make the man spill his secrets.
I prick my finger, then draw the arrow facing down on his door, delighting when the wood shrinks and shrinks. Right before it puffs to sawdust, I crouch and slash the sigil.
The gray-haired halfling gapes, mouth as round as his eyes. “What are you?”
“A girl looking for her Shabbin grandmother. You know, the one who created the wards around the queendom? Meriam. Name ring a bell?”
Though I painted no upward arrows on his eyeballs, they bulge like a frog’s.
“Like my father mentioned, we come in peace. Wealsocome with your king’s blessing. Now, would you be so gracious as to tell us how many sleighs were purchased by the foreigners and in which direction they took them?”
The man’s pulse strikes his throat with such gusto that I worry I may have overwhelmed him.
I paste on a smile and add a pleasant, “Please?”
The man keels over.Merda.Did I kill him?
A younger man rushes to his side and crouches, sinking two fingers into the crook of his neck. He must feel a pulse because he doesn’t glove his hand with magic or reach for a weapon to strike us down.
He stands, orders two other men to carry his father to a cot in the back, then crosses his arms and says, “They purchased five sleighs and a tow chain.”
I’m guessing the tow chain was to hook into Meriam’s throne. I’m also guessing my grandmother must not have appreciated being dragged like cargo.
“As for the direction . . . They headed east but perhaps changed course. We’re not in the business of tracking our customers.” When his gaze sidles along my body, Lore wraps me in his shadows.
Relax, my love. The man’s not seeking a flaw in my armor through which to slip a blade.
I’m aware.
Then flitter off please. I don’t want you putting yourself at risk.
The only thing at risk is the half-blood’s sight.
Lore . . .With a snort, I reach my fingers through the churning, vaporous body of my mate.
“How many men would you say there were?” Justus asks.
