I squeezed his forearm to acknowledge his words, but my mind was spinning, trying to make sense of the truth. “You know my father?”
“Yes. Do you want to meet him?” He said the words so quickly that I was certain he had thought through his conversation already.
“No.” My voice came out harsh. The thought of adding one more uncertainty into my life at the moment was overwhelming. Then, more softly, I added, “Not yet.”
Kiegan paused his horse, which pranced nervously. The horse’s eyes were wide as if it were afraid.
“There’s tracks, and low Fae don’t ride horses. Obsidian has gotten ahead of us.”
Fear cursed, but immediately settled, as was his way. “Perhaps it will work best if we take the knife from them instead of from its hiding place.”
“Not long now until we reach Nez’s castle,” Kiegan said, and he stayed close to us after that, as if we were entering a place of greater danger.
We dismounted when we were close. The horses threw their heads at being tied up, their eyes wide and rolling, as if they saw things in the woods that we did not.
We approached the rest of the way through the forest. Kiegan and Fear flanked me without discussion, and I had no complaints.
The trees thinned first, their roots breaking around old stone, and then the ground dipped into a shallow basin carved into the hillside.
“Old orc castle,” Kiegan mouthed, the words barely audible, though I saw no architecture yet. “To have taken it from the orcs…he would have had to be powerful.”
“He was. He ruled the low Fae as the queen wished.” Fear’s voice was also barely a breath. “Apparently his service is at an end.”
The castle sank into the earth. Half of it was below ground, the upper level low and sloped, its roofline hugging the earth. Narrow windows, iron-latticed, looked outward like watchful slits. The rest of the structure disappeared into the hill behind it, swallowed by moss and shadow.
Eight enormous horses stood tethered at the front. They shifted restlessly, one stamping at the ground and then going still at a word from the Obsidian shifter watching them. He had his sword drawn, and his posture had the ease of someone who expected no real resistance and was prepared for it anyway.
His attention swept the treeline. None of us moved. My heart beat too quickly in my chest. I didn’t turn my head, but I could feel Fear and Kiegan at either shoulder, tense and ready for a fight.
But if we did fight them, if we could not keep our identities from them, we would have to kill them. Fear had made that clear, though as a last resort. He preferred trickery.
Trickery, when he first set out the plan, had seemed as if it would be sufficient. Now I looked at the eight horses, and while I understood why Fear had wanted a small party, I wished I had the whole of Bismyth at my back.
The door opened behind the shifter. A mortal came out.
He gripped a tray in hands that shook as he carried it toward the shifter. He was enthralled and yet still terrified.
I glanced at Fear for an answer I didn’t need. This low Fae had bought enthralled mortals like those we had seen at the Night Market.
The Obsidian shifter took the tray without looking at him. Apparently an enthralled mortal didn’t merit a look. They were not threats, no matter who they served.
The mortal stepped back too quickly and moved back toward the door. He paused at the entrance, though, looking over the woods as if he was looking for rescue. But rescue from what? The low Fae who owned him or the Obsidian shifters who had invaded?
The door closed. The silence settled, heavier than before.
Fear gestured us back, and the three of us retreated through the woods.
“We either have to steal the knife from them unseen or take it from them by force,” Fear said softly when we were back at the horses.
“I vote force,” Kiegan said, surprising no one.
“I prefer trickery whenever possible,” Fear said dryly, also surprising no one. “They’ll recognize me too easily unless?—”
“They won’t even see me,” I cut in. “They’re not looking at the mortals.”
I did not want to descend into that dark castle and search for the knife, pretending to be enthralled.
But I would do it for Tay. I’d do anything for Tay.
