Saeldian looked straight forward, unmoving. Cold radiated from Osalor as he turned pale, slitted eyes on Jubilee.
“Saeldian has a pendant,” Jubilee said.
They still wore that old thing? Did they still wear it when they washed?
Osalor glanced at Saeldian for one heated second but nodded to Jubilee. “Continue.”
“They keep it tucked away, but they never take it off. Ever. And the witch was staring right at Saeldian’s chest. If she’d been a dog, she would have been licking her chops.”
“I’d thought of a cat,” Lorzok said. “She knew Saeldian was afraid. She liked that.”
“I’d bet your favorite button against a pocket of gold that Saeldian depleted their magic getting here,” Jubilee said, “and you’re going to toss us straight into the fire!”
Saeldian cringed like they expected a shout, a slap, something breaking. Timtim thumped both paws on the gleaming floor and lowered his horn like he would charge an archfey’s ankles if it came to that. But Osalor kept his temper, and he didn’t even have to try to look like Jubilee’s outburst didn’t bother him. His robes warmed, taking on the subtle pink and gold in its tones that Kell hadn’t noticed until they were cold and blue. He was a flower again instead of a dagger made from ice.
Now he was terrifying. If Osalor shifted that quickly all the time, Saeldian must do everything they could to keep his mood blossoming. His severe demeanor softened, and his charm was silk and honey once more.
“I’m tossing you to the edge of the fire,” Osalor corrected. “Jubilee of Righthoof Manor, is it?”
Jubilee nodded.
“If I extend you hospitality, and someone of the fey courts notices, that will be the middle of the fire. They will put you on the game board to be part of the struggling drama of the seelie and unseelie.”
“Why?” Kell said. “What part do you have in the fey courts’ eternal game of Light and Darkness?”
“And you must be the ex-apprentice. Kell?”
Ex-apprentice? Osalor was trying to needle him. “I am as you’ve named me, but the question remains.”
“I have no part,” Osalor said. “I’ve stood outside that strugglefor a long time, and that makes each side certain I’m an agent of the other. I can’t drop you into that, not while you have a sworn mission to carry out. So I must put you out, but I might have advice. Where are you going?”
Kell bit back his first impulse and answered, “It’s a domain called Hearthaven’s Repose.”
Osalor maintained a cordial curiosity Kell didn’t believe was real.
Everything Kell knew about the mask of acting slid over his body while he adjusted his assumptions. Saeldian didn’t talk about their patron often, but to hear them tell it, Osalor was everything Saeldian strived to be—beautiful, irresistible, charming, refined. They spoke of a mentor who believed in Saeldian’s potential more than they did. They had always been grateful and awed where he was concerned.
Meeting him now, Kell didn’t want Osalor knowing about his family, or Essanderon’s Rest, or anything he could turn into a knife.
“Hearthaven’s Repose. Yes.” Osalor sorted through memories while he drifted away to refresh a silver vase of cut orchids. “I’ve heard of it. But I only remember the name. I don’t get a lot of gossip while I’m tucked away in here. But you should go to Eightbridge, like I said. If anyone knows, they’ll be there.”
“Is Eightbridge a seelie court?” Lorzok asked.
“Partially. Eightbridge is the domain that other smaller domains border. There’s more than eight, but—I can’t tell you the story. You’ll be here too long. The point is that they have guides there. Did Saeldian tell you to look for a sign of a walking figure carrying a star on their lantern? They’ll be on inns close to the gates. A lot of refugees from the Hungry War wound up in Eightbridge, or a neighboring domain.”
He looked pointedly at Kell for that last bit. “It’s so sad to lose those you love. Unbearable pain, I imagine.”
Kell added one more entry to the list of reasons he should not punch an archfey. He did not want Osalor thinking about his family as a way to settle any offense on Kell’s part. “But you’re saying if anyone survived it, they fled to Eightbridge.”
“Correct. The refugees needed to go somewhere, and the place that’s on the way to everywhere else tends to collect people. Saeldian arrived here because they needed to. I expect you can do the same,” Osalor said.
Kell didn’t like the possibility of Osalor being right about anything. But he had to listen. “How do we find it, then?”
“Listen carefully. Just outside my domain, you’ll find a stone bridge in the middle of the wood. Whatever water it crossed is gone. But any bridge can lead to Eightbridge, if you need it to badly enough. If you do find water, bathe in it. Leave no trace of your coming here. Saeldian, to me.”
Osalor reached out his hand, then dodged Saeldian’s attempt to take it. “The amulet. No, don’t take it off.”
Saeldian let the high, forbidding gorget melt away so they could lift the pendant from under their jerkin. Osalor held it in his hand.
