“Everything.” There was a faint shakiness about her.
“He took it badly,” I guessed.
“He took it the way Tay takes things, even without the queen’s enchantment curdling his soul.” Her hand rested at the tent entrance but didn’t lift the flap. “He listened carefully, and he was calm, and then he told me why it wasn’t necessary.”
Corbyn and Tay came after us, their conversation easy. Corbyn guided him toward the tent. When Tay looked up and saw my mother and me, he looked glad for a moment. Then his face shifted as he understood.
“I don’t want it.” Tay shook his head. “You don’t understand what you are doing to me.”
“Tay, the queen enchanted you,” I told him gently.
“Yes. She healed me.” His eyes were wide and frustrated and perhaps a bit sad. “No mortal could do that. Only the queen. And you want to undo it.”
“No, Tay. You’ll still be healed. She did heal you. It’s done. The sickness is gone, and the enchantment she has over you now isn’t healing.”
“You don’t understand.” He sounded patient, and suddenly I was back in our little cottage, listening to my brother’s soft, kind words. He was terrified; his near-panic was written clearly across his taut face, and yet he was still so gentle. “I know you’re trying to help, Cara. But you’re going to hurt me.”
“I’m not. Tay, I’m not.” I touched his arm, wanting to comfort him, but he shied away. As if he expected me to force him.
There was a lump in my throat, and I swallowed it down. “We have to do this.”
“No, you don’t.” His hands raked through his hair in his frustration.
“You’ll be fine when it’s done. You’ll see.”
“Because you know everything about Fae magic now?” He smiled slightly to soften the words, but nothing of that smile reached his eyes, and it fell fast. “What if you’re wrong? What if I grow sick and die?”
Images of what it had been like when Tay was sick and dying flashed through my mind. “Please let’s go into the tent and talk, Tay.”
He looked as if the tent were a death sentence. “I’ve been sick for so long. Do you know what it’s like to be free? To not be afraid every morning that today is the day it comes back? The queen gave me that.”
Then, his voice was quiet and ragged. “Do you understand that? For the first time I can remember, I’m not afraid.”
Unvoiced but not unheard:until you.
“Cara.” Tay’s gaze on mine was hopeful, and that wrenched at my soul. “Please. Understand.”
He was not quite begging.
Something hot pressed against the backs of my eyes, but I wouldn’t let myself cry. I wouldn’t let myself back down.
Fear was at my side. His arm brushed my shoulder. When I looked up at him, his gaze was steady. There was none of the cold anger from our fight or the charming deceit at dinner. He was my ally.
But still, he didn’t offer. He wasn’t doing me those kinds of favors these days. If I needed him—if I wanted him—I had to ask.
I had to swallow hard, as if my pride blocked my throat. “Will you come with us, Fear?”
He moved before I could even finish speaking. He took command so easily. “Let’s talk about it inside.”
Somehow, Fear got us all into the tent. Even Tay. He said something quietly to him, and Tay softened, then went. I felt a sudden rush of jealousy. I wished I could soothe people as he did, instead of nettling them.
I glanced over my shoulder before I entered the tent. We were being watched. Corbyn threw out an uneasy glance. He was the leader, but his power wasn’t absolute. He had brought Nightwalkers and my brother, all under the queen’s enchantment, into these people’s last refuge.
There was only one way to protect them, and my brother was resisting.
The tent felt far too small once we were inside. I hesitated at the door and hated myself for hesitating.
Tay looked at Fear the way he looked at all the shifters when he’d first arrived, with the careful assessment of someone who had grown up hearing stories and was startled to find themselves standing inside one.
