“Kel didn’t travel with us,” Dayton says. “He’s in the Winter Realm.”
“Did I ask, Sunshine?” She rolls her eyes. “Follow me. I command the east sector. If High Prince Ezryn sent you, it must be important.”
Dayton and Farron explain our situation to Tilla, but I fall behind, mind working. Tilla … Caspian had brought her up at a dinner we had months ago. She was with Kel romantically, at least for a time. Does she know who I am? That Keldarion is my mate?
Sickening jealousy courses through me as I realize he’s probably done more with her than he’s ever considered with me.
Tilla leads us around a corner to an outcropping that overlooks the entire cavern. From this high, the workers all look like little ants scurrying about. There are deep chasms as well with swinging bridges leading across. If someone were to fall…
My stomach drops.
Tilla stops beside a grand anvil, throwing her hammer down. This must be her own personal workspace. “Ezryn sent you. Why?”
“Goblin forces have been spotted wielding Spring steel,” Farron explains. “We’re trying to figure out how they came by it. Have there been any attacks against the forge or any missing stock?”
Tilla narrows her eyes. “We often hear the goblins chittering from the deep, but they don’t dare come up here. They burrow out of the tunnels across the Starweaver Mountains, sure, but we’ve had no attack or loss of our weapons. Everything is accounted for.”
Once again, the immensity of the Below staggers me. I’ve been to Cryptgarden but have since learned the Below is so much bigger. Tunnels, caverns, and cities stretch beneath all of the Enchanted Vale. It’s like a whole other world.
“But the goblins had the steel. Steel that only comes fromthisforge,” Dayton insists.
Tilla’s face hardens. “I’m not doubting you, Daytonales. But they didn’t get it from Draconhold.”
I bite my lip and breathe in the warm, smoky air. “Have there been any reports on attacked shipments? If you export the steel, perhaps one of the wagons was overtaken on the road.”
Tilla crosses her arms. “Not that I’ve heard.”
Reaching into the bag slung around Dayton’s chest, I pull out one of the swords we retrieved from the goblins. “We found this in the possession of a goblin. The others were armed similarly.”
Tilla takes the sword and places it on a stone slab. She runs a hand over it, her palm glowing with flame. Red markings begin to spark across the sword. “This is recently made, from our latest batches. One we sent to…” She pulls her hand away, the red marks fading.
Dayton opens his mouth, but I gently place a hand on his arm. This isn’t the type of woman who can be pressured into revealing anything.
She eyes me carefully, then hands Dayton back the blade. “There has been an unusually high shipment of weapons up to Queen’s Reach Monastery since the boy prince took over.”
“Kairyn.” Saying his name makes me feel like I have shadows on my tongue.
“What do a bunch of holy folk need weapons for?” Dayton asks.
Farron smacks him on the chest. “Probably for the Queen’s Army. Though they haven’t seen combat in centuries.” He must notice my blank expression and continues, “They’re an elite force of fae soldiers, training day and night until our Queen has need of them.”
“Prince Kairyn sent word that the weapons they had were naught but rusted toys. It might have nothing to do with it, but there have been troubling reports of goblin raids in the high mountains by Queen’s Reach Monastery,” Tilla says.
“Perhaps Kairyn thought reporting a goblin raid on his weapon shipment would make him appear weak, so he hid it,” I suggest, though even as I say the words, something darker simmers in my stomach. “Either way, it’s obvious where we should go next.”
“No,” Dayton whines. “I don’t want to go to the creepy monastery.”
A deep laugh fills Tilla. “I helped you, now you help me. There’s a bucket of raw gold at the bottom of this slope. Be good strong fae princes and carry it up. More than a quarter of our workers are away today.”
Dayton and Farron both sigh before going to retrieve it. I move to follow when Tilla says, “Stay. They can handle it.”
I swallow, my throat dry and wonder if she plans to throw me off into the depths of the Below.
The thought is not as troubling as it should be.
“A quarter of your workers away,” I whisper. “That seems high. Is there a holiday I don’t know about?”
Tilla shakes her head. “If only it were so. A strange illness seems to be passing through the city. Fever and hallucinations. Saw one bugger drop his hammer and start swatting at the air. Nearly threw himself off the bridge before we caught him.”
