“Before,” he said quietly. “Long ago. Yes.”
Perhaps there was some scrap of Reshaye that still lived within me, because I could feel something thrashing in my core, raging at the sight of him.
“You have it,” he said. “I can feel it in you.”
He stepped forward, and at the movement, flames tore up Max’s staff, simmering at the edge of the blade. And at that, Ishqa stopped short, his eyes snapping to Max.
“You. You held it too. Your magic, it feels like…”
He trailed off, as if he didn’t know which word to choose.
My eyes fell to his ears. His pointed ears.
“You are Fey.” The worlds slipped from my lips without my permission.
“I am.”
“But the Fey are… gone.”
“No. Though for a long time, we preferred the humans to think we were.” Ishqa eyed Max, who was still staring him down warily, weapon ready. “You can put that down. I would not save you just to kill you.”
“And why, exactly, would you save us?”
“Because something far worse than what you just witnessed is coming,” he said. “And I need your help to stop it from happening.” He cleared his throat, and for a moment, he actually looked self-conscious — a strange shade on a face that seemed so inhumanly elegant. “I understand that what I am about to tell you will sound… unbelievable. But I am asking you to listen. Please.”
Max paused, then lowered his weapon, though he still held it carefully at his side.
“The Fey were never gone. But for centuries, we came very close to it. Once, we were so divided that nothing was more important to us than destroying rival Houses. Hundreds of years ago, in a conflict that has fallen from your history books, humans and Fey clashed. Your people, war torn and drunk on bloodshed, eventually turned that aggression against us. They murdered entire Fey houses and ripped apart our cities searching for the power they needed to win their own wars.” A flicker of regret passed over Ishqa’s face. “We were so divided, then. Short-sighted. Instead of facing an imminent threat by banding together, we used it as an opportunity to cut down our rivals. I believed in that as much as any other.”
He paused, and those unnerving gold eyes lifted to us, holding just a hint of shame.
“I gave the humans someone…” He stumbled over his words. “…Someone who trusted me, in exchange for their alliance. The power to win their wars in exchange for the power I needed to win mine. She had rare magic among the Fey. And when I gave her to them, they used her power to create a cataclysmic weapon. The weapon you now know.”
My mouth was dry.
“Reshaye,” I said, quietly. “You gave them Reshaye.”
Max swore beneath his breath.
Ishqa said, solemnly, “That betrayal was the greatest mistake I have ever made.”
“A mistake.” Max shook his head. His knuckles were white around his staff. “Do you understand how many people are dead because of that act? That’s bigger than a damned mistake.”
“I do understand. Yes.”
“So why are you here now, hundreds of years later?”
“We had our own battles to fight. The humans and their monsters faded from our minds, just as the Fey faded from yours. But now…” Ishqa’s gaze went far away. “Things began to change. A new king has risen, uniting what remains of the scattered Fey into one House instead of many. Before him, I would have never thought it possible to see my people become whole again. And it has been… greater than I ever imagined.”
And then that admiration faded, his expression hardening.
“My king’s dedication and vision allowed him to rebuild our civilization, yes. But such qualities can so easily be twisted into dark obsession. It is that darkness that is coming for you. Starting with what you experienced tonight.”
A beat of silence. Words escaped me.
“Let me make sure I understand.” Max pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re saying that a mad Fey king is responsible for the monsters on our doorstep?”
Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. My mind struggled to grant it even the slightest chance of truth
“He has plenty of reason to hate you,” Ishqa said, quietly, “Long ago, the humans slaughtered many of our people to save themselves from each other. Your lives are so short compared to ours. Those days are nothing but a distant shadow in your ancestors’ lost memories. But us? We lived it, and that grief and anger still smolders within us. All it needs is a single spark.” His lip twitched, a hint of a sneer. “And someone among you has dared to provoke that.”
My brows lurched of their own accord.
“Provoked how?”
“Fey have gone missing. Not many of them, but the king is certain it is the work of the humans.”
“The work of which humans?” Max said. “There are millions of us, in hundreds of totally unrelated countries.”
“The humans did not care which of our people, our Houses, they had to slaughter to get what they wanted,” Ishqa said, sharply. “Forgive us if many are not willing to extend a greater courtesy, not when our—”
He shut his mouth abruptly, letting out a long breath. When he spoke again, his words were careful and measured.
“If I am to be honest, I hate your kind too for what you have done. But my king walks a dark, dark path.” He stepped forward, his gold eyes burning. “Perhaps I have not been clear. He wants to kill all of you. Every last one. He is a great king because he values every Fey life. And for that same reason, he will be a ruthless adversary.” Those eyes fell to me. “And he has been looking for you, in order to do it. For what you hold. For who you hold.”
My mouth was dry, my head swimming. And through that fog, a slow realization fell over me.
The
