“She has business in the human realm.”
“All faeries do. That’s the best part of our existence. Hopping into the human realm and meddling with their lives gives us purpose. But she can’t ignore her duties for such a long time. Your faerie woman is needed in her homeland. Unless, of course, you’d rather I contact her family and let them know she’d like a visit?”
He shook his head. Of what he’d heard Elva say, she wouldn’t like to see her family. They were the last people he needed to walk into this castle when she hardly trusted him.
Yet again, the Troll Queen had backed him into a corner he couldn’t’ get out of. He couldn’t deny Scáthach entrance into his home. She had a right to visit Elva when so much time had passed.
Donnacha didn’t like it. There was a reason why the Troll Queen invited her in particular, but he couldn’t figure out why. What was she planning?
Grumbling, he got up onto his feet. “Fine. She’s welcome in my home.”
“Only if I invite her,” the Troll Queen reminded him.
“Of course, your majesty.”
“Now, those are words I like to hear.” She looked him up and down, then lifted a brow in question. “You aren’t worried at all, are you?”
“Should I be?”
“Of course, you should. Scáthach would like nothing more than to see you dead. She’d have you removed from this castle faster than you could breathe.”
He shrugged his massive shoulders. “She’d have to convince Elva first.”
The queen pressed a hand against her chest and let out a long breath. “You trust her, don’t you?”
Did he? Donnacha hadn’t really thought about it so much. He’d simply been enjoying her company. And he did enjoy her company more than he’d enjoyed anyone else’s in a very long time. She made him laugh and think about his life in a light he hadn’t known possible. She was a good person; he knew that to his bones.
But did he trust her? Apparently so, because he found himself nodding. “I do.”
The Troll Queen stared back at him, and if he’d thought she was capable of any kind emotion, he might have thought it was sadness in her gaze. “Oh, Donnacha. Haven’t you learned you can’t trust anyone yet?”
The mirror went dark.
What did she mean by that? Every time he spoke with her, it felt like he was presented with another puzzle that didn’t make sense.
The Troll Queen clearly thought Scáthach would come here to make trouble. That was clear enough to him.
In his dealings with the warrior woman, he’d admit she hadn’t seemed to like him very much. But that didn’t mean she was dangerous or wanted to see him destroyed. In fact, now that his castle had disappeared from the Isle of Skye, she’d likely be more kind to him.
Unless the Troll Queen knew something he didn’t know. A sick feeling swelled in his stomach, pressing the contents of his belly into his throat. What if he was missing something? What if this was all about to change, and he was going to lose something rather important to him?
Donnacha blustered down the hall toward the center of the castle where he knew he’d find her. Elva had taken to training every day in the only place where she could. Usually, he accompanied her to comment on her form.
She didn’t like it when he pointed out that her training was lacking. Scáthach herself had trained Elva, but she was still just a human. Faeries were capable of so much more than humans.
He lumbered into the gardens, not stopping until he was directly in front of her.
Elva paused in the middle of her swing, the blade hovering but an inch from his nose. She’d been perfecting a rather difficult spin he’d taught her a few days ago. He’d only seen another faerie do it once, and even that was a man who had been training his entire life in the art of dance.
But she could do it even better than that man. Elva was the most capable woman he’d ever met in his life. He handed her a problem, and she fixed it. Simple as that. There was no arguing, no questioning; she just took an issue and ran with it.
The blade shook a moment and then dropped. “What are you doing here?” she snarled. “I could have run you through.”
“You’re far too careful for that.”
“It’s a new attack,” she muttered, sliding the blade into the sheath at her hip. “You don’t know I have enough control yet.”
“You do.” He didn’t question that in the slightest. She wouldn’t have even tried the new move if she hadn’t thought she could control it. Donnacha watched her stare at him for a few moments before he sat on his hind quarters. “Besides, not much can hurt me.”
She looked up and down his bear form before a small smile appeared on her lips. “Yes, well, I suppose you are right about that.”
He wanted her to look at him like that every day. The mirth in her expression was enough to remind him that he’d done something good. He’d made her smile, and that lit up the entire castle with her happiness. Or maybe, it was just that it lit him up from the inside out.
“Listen,” he said clearing his throat, “I’ve been informed we’re accepting a visitor.”
“Oh, really? I didn’t think many people came to visit you.”
“They aren’t here for me.” He watched her stride toward the bench where she placed the sword down. “They’re here for you.”
Elva froze, her hands outstretched and still touching the blade. “Who is it?”
“Scáthach.”
“Ah.” The stress eased from her shoulders immediately. She stood straight and turned back to him, a smile safely on her lips. “Well, that’s not so bad then.”
“I just wanted to
