I want to cry, but I just feel so wretchedly hollow.
“I might not be with child,” I whisper.
Our eyes meet.
“I won’t know for sure until….” I can’t say the rest.
But there’s a certain bleakness in his eyes as we nod. We both know it’s inevitable.
The Mother of Night always gets what she wants.
Thiago’s circle meets in the usual set of chambers.
Thalia and Eris were there to greet me last night, but not the others. I bend to press a kiss to Finn’s cheek as he welcomes me and nod at Baylor. The gruff giant keeps to himself, and I respect that.
“You look terrible,” Finn says, leaning forward in his chair to peer at me. He turns an accusing glare on Thiago. “Have you not been letting her sleep?”
Usually it’s a joke, but it falls flat this morning.
“I’m fine,” I mutter.
I am not fine. Not at all.
“News from the borders, my prince,” Baylor says, flipping open his set of notes as per usual. “We’ve—”
“Later.” Thiago takes his seat with curt grace. “The borders can wait. Adaia can wait. We need to make the Crown of Shadows our priority, and we need to come up with some means of keeping Vi safe from the fetch.”
They all share a glance.
“I’ll guard her,” Eris says. “Day and night.”
“Well, you didn’t do much of a job of it last time,” says an irritatingly annoying voice from somewhere to my left.
Finn has a knife in hand as he leaps to his feet, “What in Kato’s name is that?”
Eris hurls her dagger, but Grimm merely vanishes, and two seconds later Baylor yelps as a shadow forms on his lap before leaping onto the table.
“You couldn’t kill me if you tried,” Grimm sneers, managing to walk across all Baylor’s papers and simultaneously kick them to the floor.
“Stop!” I yell as Eris flips another knife into her hand. I glare at the grimalkin. “The doors to this chamber are locked and warded. How did you get in?”
His tail lashes. “Please. There’s not a ward in this world that can stop me from getting into a place I desire to be. And if all else fails, I simply stand outside and meow loudly until someone rectifies their mistake.”
“You know this creature?” Finn demands.
“Careful, pudding brain.” Grimm’s head swivels toward him. “I am not a creature. I am a grimalkin. I am He Who Walks the Shadows. I am—”
“Yes,” I say abruptly, and then hastily explain Grimm’s appearance before we learn about the Merciless Night and the Claws That Slash Like Knives.
Eris sinks into her chair.
Baylor mutters under his breath as he picks up his notes, a growl escaping him when he sees the paw prints that smudged his ink.
Finn crosses his arms over his chest. “Pudding brain?”
“Pea soup?” Grimm purrs.
Finn’s eyes narrow. “It’s one thing to be insulted by Eris. Quite another to have a walking carpetbag try and abuse my intelligence.”
“Try? I’d have to find evidence of it in order to insult it.”
“Well, I think he’s adorable,” Thalia coos.
Grimm examines her, and then he jaunts across the table toward her and nudges her hand for a pat. “This one is my favorite.”
“He’s not staying,” Thiago warns.
Thalia gives him her best impression of wide eyes.
“That hasn’t yet been decided,” Grimm tells him, eyeing my husband with disdain. “I quite like this castle. I may decide to rule it if the cooks keep leaving warm milk out.”
Thiago closes his eyes, and I swear there’s going to be a royal order demanding all milk supplies to the demi-fey who litter the castle cease immediately.
“That’s not your milk,” I growl under my breath to the grimalkin.
He looks affronted, as if to say, who else does it belong to?
“Can we focus?” Thiago snarls. “On matters belonging to the security of the realm?”
Thalia picks at the bacon on her plate, breaking it into bite-sized pieces and offering it to Grimm. “I intercepted an interesting letter to Vi from Princess Imerys. About the crown.”
Thiago shoots her a look. “Why do I feel like I’m not going to enjoy this?”
“Because you’re not. It involves sending Vi into Unseelie again. Without you.”
His shoulders square. “No.”
Thalia points the fork at him. “You can’t go. We don’t know where your father is or if he’s still looking for you—”
“He’s still looking for me,” Thiago growls. “He will always be looking for me. The answer’s still no.”
I glance between them. As his cousin, she knows more of his history than I do. But this is the first time his father’s been mentioned in anything more than a “I don’t want to talk about it” kind of way.
“Why Unseelie?” Eris asks.
“Because that’s where the saithe oracle is,” Thalia replies. “Imerys writes to say that she finally remembered where she’d heard the name of the crown. It was in a written treatise on prophecies that the saithe oracle has made.”
My stomach bottoms out.
I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.
Or maybe I do.
The oracle will show you a glimpse of the future or the past, but it comes at a cost.
“No,” Thiago says sharply. “Vi’s lost more than enough of her memories. She doesn’t need to lose any more.”
“I’m merely presenting it as an option,” Thalia says, spreading her hands. “The oracle isn’t technically immortal—she passes from body to body—but she’s a repository for all the memories of all the oracles that have come before her. And those memories she’s taken in payment from those who journey to see her.”
Silence rings throughout the room.
Thiago’s still shaking his head, but he’s not the one who makes this decision.
“How do I get there?” I ask quietly.
Every head in the room turns toward me. Thiago’s nostrils flare, but I hold up my palm.
“We need to find the crown,” I tell him, and our eyes meet as I try to remind him why this is suddenly urgent. “No matter what we must do.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The saithe oracle lives alone in a swamp deep in the heart of Unseelie.
My stomach keeps tying
