Rachel blinks, convinced she’s seeing things. When the scene doesn’t dissipate, she shakes her head and closes the distance between them. Whatever heinous fate awaits her, she can’t bring herself to watch him struggle like this. After all, it’s not the most dignified position for a king to be in, no matter what realm he hails from.
“You lift, and I’ll check if it’s down there.” Rachel gestures for Nova to get off the carpet.
He looks up at her, unreadable in that moment.
“I insist.”
Nova stands and pats the dust off his clothes, before he moves behind the armchair. He tilts it back, and Rachel bends down to check if there’s anything resembling the missing item. She rights herself and mumbles a, “Nope,” before gesturing to the next armchair.
He gently sets the chair on its feet and follows her direction.
Nova’s quicksilver gaze meets hers. “So, you traveled all the way to Amaris in the hopes of retrieving my brother?”
Rachel purses her lips together, looks beneath the armchair, and shakes her head.
Moving the wooden bookcase, he says, “Humor me.” Nova strains to push the large piece of furniture away from the wall. He scans the area, before shifting the bookcase back into place.
“Yes,” Rachel relents.
Nova turns his attention back to her. “And?”
“Well, I didn’t really have time to talk to him, seeing as I unintentionally led a horde of Sluaghs into his camp.” She crosses her arms and breaks eye contact.
“Ah, that explains it then.”
Rachel glimpses his way. “Explains what?”
“Rumor has it the Halfling army, or rather what’s left of it, is moving to join their forces in the northern parts of Amaris.” He opens a drawer and rummages around inside. “Swaying my brother won’t be easy when he’s waging a war. He’s rather single-minded that way.” Nova closes the drawer and heads for the writing desk. “I suppose he brought you here during the fray with the Sluaghs?” He crouches and peers beneath the desk.
“Yes. Do you know what they are? The Sluaghs, I mean.”
“Nasty creatures,” he mumbles.
She waits for more of an explanation, but when Nova doesn’t continue, she says, “Care to elaborate?”
He stands again, scratching his chin. “We believe Sluagh are unrestful souls, specifically of people—Human, Halfling, Fae, it doesn’t matter—who were exceptionally evil and cruel during their lives. They exist and gain power from souls, especially the souls of the dying.” Nova shrugs. “From what I can remember of my studies about them, they group together, and are mostly active during the night. During daylight hours, Sluagh usually hide in dark, forgotten places.”
“And they’re just found in the Fae Realm?” Rachel asks.
“No. The Wild Hunt—that’s what we call a horde of Sluagh, by the way—is found in every known realm. Sometimes there are stragglers from the horde, though, and the lone wolf abides by a different set of rules. For example, a Sluagh that’s struck out on its own doesn’t mind the sunlight,” he says. “The bottom line is that all Sluagh sow chaos and feed off destruction.” Nova looks around the room. “Where could I have put it?”
“Did you check the palace?” Rachel asks.
“Of course I checked the palace.”
And he calls Orion single-minded.
Rachel walks up to the bookcase and scans the leather-bound volumes housed on the shelves.
“Finding you here has placed me in a somewhat difficult position. If I take you as my prisoner, Orion may reconsider this pointless campaign against me. On the other hand, he may not feel anything for you, which makes it an utterly impractical strategy,” Nova says as he scours the desk.
She spots the leather folder in the bottom shelf of the bookcase, placed on top of a stack of books. Rachel picks it up, and says, “May I add another point for you to consider?”
Nova signals for her to continue with a curt nod.
“Imprisoning me would be both incredibly rude and an unjust reward, especially seeing as I found your folder.”
With only the illumination of the lamp and the moonlight coming in through the cabin windows, he seems almost normal. Nova spins around, eyes sparkling as Rachel hands over the leather folder.
“Where did you find it?” Nova asks, unwinding the leather thong keeping the contents within safely together.
“In the bookcase.”
“Thank you.”
Rachel leans her shoulder against the shelves, watching as he closes the folder and smooths his face into a neutral expression.
“Coming back to our previous conversation,” he says, moving the leather folder behind his back. “There is a possibility that you will become a bigger threat to me. Thus, if I imprison you now, I could save myself from future problems.”
Rachel gives him a half-smile. “If you use that particular argument, your subjects may wonder why their great and powerful king fears a human. Logic suggests it will cause you much bigger issues in the long run.”
Nova eyes her from afar. “Well, you’ve just confirmed you’re not stupid.” He inclines his head her way before she can respond. “I apologize for my unannounced intrusion and bid you farewell.”
Rachel shrugs off his apology. “Goodnight.
Their gazes meet again briefly, curiosity flashing in his eyes, before the King of Amaris vanishes into thin air.
Twelve
Blood of my Blood
On the fifth morning of Rachel’s visit to the Fae Realm, she awakens to the sweet aroma of freshly baked bread wafting throughout the cabin.
Half-crazed with hunger and willing to eat pretty much anything, she follows the delectable smell into the kitchen, where a picnic basket waits on the counter. Beside the basket, sits a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. Rachel dives into the basket, her craving for anything substantial too great to be ignored. Inside of it, she finds fresh bread accompanied by jams, sweetmeats, and cheese. She breaks off a doughy morsel and places it in her mouth, savoring the yeasty goodness. Another controlled bite, before she breaks off a piece of cheese and stuffs it into her mouth.
She closes her eyes and chews the cheese slowly, moaning, “So good.”
Rachel unpacks the much-needed
