An uneasy feeling had settled on my shoulders. It was hard to believe there was anything that could kill the immortal fae. But apparently there was, and Morgana was equipping her whole army with it.
Once we were settled around the fire, Uncle Gabriel told us what had happened to him. It was quite a fantastic story. Apparently, it was Maggie, the Alkana, who changed his form and snuck him out of the dungeons, putting someone else in his place.
“But how did no one see through the glamour?”
It was Tristan who answered. “The Alkana’s magic is more powerful than any spirit-fae, so it cannot be detected by anyone, mage, fae—” he glanced over at Ashara, “—or witch.”
Uncle Gabriel smiled and nodded. “True. Maggie managed to glamour one of the prisoners to look like me. He was the one who went to the block in my place.”
Tristan glared at Uncle Gabriel. “You let someone else die in your place?”
I knew Tristan valued courage above all, and what Uncle Gabriel had done would seem cowardly to him.
Uncle Gabriel looked calmly at Tristan. “The man she glamoured to take my place was a child rapist. He had raped and mutilated twenty children in the past year alone, but the magistrate only gave him a ten-year sentence in prison because the children were servants or commoners.”
Tristan’s midnight-blue eyes shone with silver sparks. “So justice was done.”
“He will never hurt another child again,” said the Duke of Silverthorne, his eyes pure steel.
Tristan nodded, satisfied by the outcome.
“But why didn’t you tell us you were alive earlier?” I asked.
“It is far easier to get things done when people think you are dead,” said Uncle Gabriel. “I’ve tried to teach you to always have a second and third plan in place.”
My eyes narrowed. “I don’t think the plan was to get yourself thrown in the dungeon.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Wasn’t it?”
Kalen laughed at this. “And what was your second plan, Your Grace? Getting yourself executed?”
Uncle Gabriel smiled at Kalen. “Exactly!”
My jaw dropped. “You couldn’t have possibly planned for that too.”
My granduncle looked me straight in the eyes. “Couldn’t I? Didn’t I say that it was far easier to get things done if everyone thinks you’re dead?”
My hand flew to my mouth. “You did plan it!”
He rubbed his chin, and his blue eyes twinkled when he nodded.
“How?” asked Penelope.
“I sent word to Maggie as soon as you came to me with the news about Lilith taking over the king’s body.” He turned his knowing gaze back on me. “I instructed Rafe to get Serena, Erien, Penelope, and Kalen out of the castle. If I had left as well, they would have hunted us all down.”
“So you sacrificed yourself for us,” said Kalen, his eyes wide as saucers.
Uncle Gabriel chuckled. “Not exactly. I knew Maggie would come and get me out. And I needed all of you to be safe so I could do what needed to be done.”
“Which was?”
“The Alkana told me it was of utmost importance to journey to Rohron and meet with the witches. She tasked me to convince the witch king and his witches to join us. At the time it seemed like an impossible task. But Maggie assured me they would listen.” He looked over at Ashara, who was sitting on the other side of me listening to the story. “The witches are known for staying away from mage wars; they do not normally interfere or help. And I was right. When I first got there, the witch king refused to help—that is, until I mentioned we would be fighting for you.”
I looked at Ashara, who smiled and nodded. “The witch king also agreed to send more witch warriors to Brandor to assist Prince Santino in shutting down the mines and rescuing the slaves.”
“Thank you,” I said, genuinely grateful for their help.
Ashara crossed her powerful arms in front of her. “Many of the slaves are our own people. Justice will be swift—the witches take no prisoners.”
“Good,” said Tristan nodding, suitably pleased with Ashara’s brand of justice.
Uncle Gabriel continued his story. “I accompanied them to Brandor to meet with Santino and to let my daughter know I was alive.”
“Aunt Serena must have been so happy to see you,” I said, thinking back to the state my poor aunt was in when I left Brandor. “She was distraught, to say the least, when she heard what had happened to you.”
Gabriel Silverthorne nodded. “I know it was hard for her, but it had to be done. I couldn’t stay long, but I was there long enough to meet with Santino and make some plans regarding the war.”
“Witches and Brandorians don’t really get along, Gabriel,” said Penelope. “How can you be so sure they will listen to Santino?”
Uncle Gabriel’s eyes twinkled. “It seems our pirate prince is not all he seems.”
My eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
Uncle Gabriel shot a glance at Ashara. “As you know, Santino is the son of the emir and a slave that resided at the palace.”
I nodded. “Yes, he told me.”
“But what he didn’t know,” said Uncle Gabriel, “is that his mother was from Ashara’s war tribe and is her youngest sister.”
“In return for our help against the Detoris, Prince Santino has agreed to free all the slaves in Brandor,” Ashara said.
Penelope’s eyes widened and her eyebrows rose. “All of them?”
Silverthorne smiled. “Every last one.”
“And the mines?” Penelope asked.
Silverthorne rubbed his chin. “Santino is still fighting the Detoris. If he succeeds in securing the east, only then will he get a chance to shut them down and free the slaves.” He furrowed his brow. “But the fae army can still pass through Brandor.”
Penelope shook her head of golden hair. “Izadora has made it very clear the Elder Council will not send the fae army to fight a war against an army that possesses weapons of blackened iron and the Dark Dagger. The fae will be wiped out and could face extinction.
