Xeyvian eyes me where I stand by a heavy-laden bush adorned with large globes of purple flowers. He checks the sun, noting the time of day and orders a small lunch from the kitchens. Sera arrives not long after, with plates of fruits, sweet drinks, and the like.
I’m enjoying the spectacle of what appears to be a tea party in preparation of a siege when Xeyvian hands me a plate full of berries and cheeses, cured meats and sweet breads.I smile as Toren selects a seat beside the general. There’s a curious look on his face when he takes in their floral surroundings and the tall stack of neatly sliced sandwiches at the center of the table.
No one quiets when I draw near. Not a single word is hushed or a critical eye cast in my direction. While Leanna taught me that bedding someone could be a quick way to lower their guard, I hadn’t expected it to work quite so thoroughly. Certainly not on the general of A’kori.
“The fea in the northern woods have been made aware of the presence of the Vatruke,” Toren says, and my stomach pitches, “but none have reported seeing them.”
The general’s usual glower is fixed on the commander’s face as he listens to his report. A small tick in his temple the only implication that the male is strained beyond what I am accustomed to seeing.
“Arda,” he says under his breath, his eyes boring holes in the map beneath his flattened palms, as if he could discern the enemy’s location by intimidating the colorful canvas.
Toren nods. “That is my suspicion as well. If Arda had not accompanied the others, we would certainly have discovered their whereabouts by now.”
“Kezik, Vos, and Arda,” the general says, pinching his brow. “I admit, I never thought they would step foot upon these shores again. This complicates things.”
Toren nods, but the general’s eyes are on me when he says it.
“Have any of the fea in the northern woods gone missing?” the general asks and I tense, though I’m not entirely sure why.
Perhaps it is my concern for the sisters that hones my senses on Toren as he replies, “None that we are aware of.”
“If not for the fea, why would they come?” the general asks, disconcerted.
Toren sighs, replying, “That question has occupied my mind into the early hours of the morning lately. Though no explanation I can conjure feels right or settles my mind in the least.”
I slip away from the table, from the small company gathered to ascertain the whereabouts of the invaders. It hadn’t been the plan. When I left, no Drakai were ordered to come and assist me. No contingencies had been made upon my departure. Their presence will only jeopardize my mission, making it more difficult to gain access to the king.
My attempt to drag reasoning through the thick sludge occupying my mind is interrupted by a distant laugh on a gentle breeze. Every thought of the Drakai set aside when I head off to find the sisters. I’m sure to keep the general in sight, aware that every step I take away from the male while he remains seated is a testament to his self-restraint. I have little doubt that he would prefer if I remained within quite literal arm’s reach.
I make a show of smelling and inspecting the vibrant display of flowers artfully sewn near a well-worn, cobbled walking path. A small wooden swing rocks in the wind tethered to a giant oak, a dirt path etched into the ground beneath it from years of frequent use.
Tig is the first to reveal herself to me, though she remains carefully concealed by the thick bushes beyond the border of low blooming foliage. Her green eyes are nearly lost in the sea of leaves. Eon’s violet eyes and the pink eyes of her mate are buried within a heavy-laden peony bush nearby, and I find that I am curiously relieved to see the sisters again.
With a glance over my shoulder to be sure that I am still alone I ask Tig pointedly, “Do you think that I am like you? Fea?”
I’m relieved when Tig shakes her head fervently confirming my suspicions that all Felias implied was either wildly incorrect or simply said to unnerve me.
My gut hollows when Tig states confidently,“Breh,”the r rolling off her sprite tongue.
“What do you meanmore?” I ask, entirely unsure I want her answer.
“Tha’haynah vathai eh’breh,” she answers.The old blood of the fea ismore.
“I don’t understand what that means.”
“Le’sei’lie hai’voh.”
I shake my head, squinting in confusion as I try to piece together the declaration.
“Something about promises and fate,” I whisper under my breath.
Even through the thick spray of leaves concealing her face I see her brow pinch as she struggles to find the words.
“Vey’loh haiTha’haynah vathai.” Something left by the old blood of the fea.
My brow scrunches in confusion.
“How can the old blood of the fea leave itself something promised by the old blood of the fea?” My head begins to pound as my mind grasps at her meaning.
