“I think the moss is trying to consume his soul,” I murmured.
“But he’s the god of death.” Rosalind turned to Osmos, as though to confirm this fact.
His brows drew together. “According to what we heard in our cells, King Donn’s power transferred to his son, but has King Drayce taken his throne?”
I gulped, remembering that Drayce told me Queen Melusina had wrenched him from the Otherworld before he could come into his power and hadn’t given him the opportunity to return.
“Will it make a difference?” I asked.
Osmos winced. “Perhaps you should convince Cliach the harpist to help.”
I jolted on the mattress. “You found him?”
His lips thinned. “Aengus rode out with a squadron of guards. Only one of them returned, as the harpist took offense to being summoned.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“He charmed the water wraiths to rise up and drag the guards along with their capall into the depths of the lake.”
“They’re dead?”
“They’ve now fallen into the realm of the Spring Court,” he replied.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Which is submerged in water. I can’t afford to disappear.”
“The only option is to destroy the Fear Dorcha, who could be anywhere,” added Rosalind.
“He’s in the Summer Court.” I swung my legs off of the mattress, hoping Drayce wouldn’t return to that four-poster bed. “King Drayce said the Fear Dorcha was also responsible for cursing them to an eternal sleep.”
“What will you do, Your Majesty?” Osmos asked.
I sat on the edge of the mattress and glanced over my shoulder at Drayce, who hadn’t moved from where we had left him. Perhaps Aengus had been wrong to summon such a powerful musician without offering him something in return.
Drayce was right. I would bargain with him to play the harp. If the harp’s magic broke Drayce’s curse, we would venture into the Summer Court and face the Fear Dorcha.
“Ready a carriage.” I said to Osmos. “I’m taking Drayce to the harpist.”
Chapter 8
We stepped out into a moonstone courtyard, where a white carriage awaited that stood on a curved frame of solid gold held up by huge, white wheels with golden spokes. Its dark windows glinted in the light of the setting sun like polished jet and reflected some of the twelve-inch, gold statues of faeries standing on its roof. On each corner of the vehicle, four golden lamps shone as bright as the sun.
Even the quartet of winged capall tethered to the carriage wore bridles of gold. They were all flesh-and-blood beasts, with no sign of Drayce’s skeletal mount.
Trepidation rippled through my insides. I glanced at Osmos, who stood on my left. “Isn’t this a little conspicuous?”
“Cliach said if the queen wants him, she can come herself,” said Aengus from behind. “Nobody but the Queen of the Faeries would ride a carriage like that.”
I stared down at my leather armor and gulped. The only alternative to seeking out this harpist was venturing into the Summer Court, where the Fear Dorcha was probably waiting to put me under a sleep enchantment.
“Alright,” I whispered into the wind. “Let’s go.”
Osmos walked across the moonstone courtyard, his footsteps clinking like the clop of a newly shoed horse. I dropped my gaze to his silver breeches to find that he had hooves instead of feet.
Rosalind walked on my right. “Queen Pressyne often enchanted her ladies-in-waiting to attend to matters on her behalf. Would you like me to take your place and meet Cliach?”
I shook my head. “If this harpist has the power to awaken Prince Drayce, I need to be there to negotiate with him.”
She inclined her head.
Osmos opened the door and stepped aside. “I will manage the Royal Court in your absence, Your Majesty. Will you give me the discretion to rehouse the remaining humans?”
I paused at the door. “We need to treat them as guests until we can work out how to resettle them.”
His lips pursed with disapproval, but the movement was so quick that I might have imagined it. “Very well, Your Majesty.”
“Just make sure they’re comfortable, well-fed, and aren’t harassed by the faeries.”
Osmos inclined his head. “It shall be done.”
I stepped into the carriage’s interior and inhaled lungfuls of wood polish mingled with the scent of jasmine tea. Two doors stood on the left and right of its narrow, walnut wood interior, giving me the impression that it was larger on the inside than it appeared.
“His Majesty awaits you in the royal suite,” said Osmos from behind. “Please take the door on the left.”
The royal suite consisted of wooden walls illuminated by wall lights and was wide enough to fit a bed for two at its far left, where Drayce lay beneath a silk sheet, his head resting on a matching cushion. The lamps at his bedside glowed with dim light that warmed his dark skin.
A half-wall provided a division between the small bedroom space and a parlor area of an ivory sofa decorated by gold-embroidered cushions. Beneath the window opposite was a wooden table that seated two, already laden with a single covered dish.
I walked past the meal and sat on the edge of the bed and clutched the seeing-glass.
Osmos followed after me and lifted the dome off my plate, revealing a meal of roasted pigeon in a red wine sauce, served on a bed of string beans and wild rice. “Would you like Destry to keep you company?”
I shook my head and smiled. “Rosalind and Aengus are enough.”
He bowed and stepped out of the royal suite, pausing to allow Rosalind and Aengus to enter the front section of the coach.
By the time the capall launched themselves off the mountain’s ledge, the sun had completely set, leaving only the barest trace of light behind the distant hills. I rose from the edge of the bed, sat at the cushioned dining chair, and leaned
