“This puts a dent in things.” Alston stood from his chair and began to pace.
“What are we going to do now?” Shehan asked, her yellow eyes tracking the fae’s movements. “I, for one, don’t fancy fighting a goddess.”
“She won’t join the fight,” gurgled Gar. “We need to attack while they’re still in mourning.”
“Fool,” Finton, the fae warrior, spat. “Were you not present for what just happened? Do you really think the goddess is in the habit of making idle threats?”
The troll leaned back in his chair. “She said she would kill those who attack. As long as we take some of the enemy down with our own, what does it matter?”
Alston stopped and gazed at the troll. The high fae looked ready to fry the beast. “Do you think our supply of soldiers is endless? We are only as strong as the numbers we have, and even then we are only as strong as the weakest warrior. We cannot sacrifice our warriors on a whim.”
“So, we’re just supposed to do nothing?” Shehan asked.
“No.” Cain spoke up. “She said we couldn’t attack them. There is much we can do for the next four months. For starters, I can get to work on replenishing our vampire numbers.
“And, as Alston pointed out, we are only as strong as our weakest warrior. Our members need to be training … every day, all day.”
Myanin felt the walls closing in on her. The control she’d regained over the magic was attempting to slip through her fingers, but she clenched her hands into fists and locked it down. It wasn’t uncommon for a young—much younger than her—djinn to have momentary loss of control of their power. Granted, that was before she’d taken on the power of an elder, but she was beyond that. And she knew it wasn’t just her power that she was having problems with. The power she’d stolen from Lyra was determined to escape or gut her from the inside out. But even still, she wasn’t about to let that turn her into an adolescent. Myanin took several deep breaths as ideas ran through her mind. There was no way she was getting trapped here, working like a dog, sparring constantly with other supernatural beings. She’d go crazy. Her mind moved quickly as she considered her options. She had to maintain the farce that she was completely in support of the Order, for now. An idea struck just as Ludcarab looked her way.
“The Great Luna said we can’t attack.” She blurted before the elf king could address her. “But she didn’t say we couldn’t keep an eye on them. It would be foolish of us not to surveil our enemy, even if they’re supposedly mourning their dead.” Again, she didn’t give the king time to speak.
“I will be the Order’s eyes and ears. I’ll keep watch on our enemy and report back what I learn.” It was a simple statement of her intention, not a request for permission. She wasn’t about to set the precedent that she needed his approval for anything.
“How magnanimous of you,” Ludcarab said, the suspicion in his voice evident. “How do you know the Great Luna won’t consider that an act of aggression?”
“She specifically used the word attack,” Myanin replied, careful to keep her disdain in check. Once upon a time, he might have been an elf king, but he was not her king, and being questioned as if she was one of his subjects rubbed her the wrong way. “I’m not going to harm them. I will simply be a hidden observer.”
“It’s a good idea,” Alston interjected. “I will assign her a fae so she can travel easily.”
“While you’re out and about,” Cain said as he turned his chair slowly to look at her, “you could make yourself doubly useful by bringing in some human flock for changing.” His lips turned up in a smile revealing his sharp incisors that made Myanin’s stomach turn. She wouldn’t mind seeing those fangs ripped out of his smirking face.
She could see the challenge as her eyes darted between Cain, Alston, and Ludcarab. They were testing her. If she said no, then she looked disloyal. Damn she hated them. “Sure,” she said simply, because if she said more it would likely end with her destroying the building and everyone in it.
A moment later, a female fae entered the room. Pale yellow hair, braided on the sides, hung down past her waist. Her dull green eyes met Alston’s. “You called?” The woman’s voice was calm but tight. She doesn’t like Alston, which means I already like her.
“Tenia”—Alston motioned toward Myanin—“you will take this djinn—”
“Myanin,” she practically spat the words at the elder fae. “I have a name.”
Alston sighed. “Of course. Tenia, you will take Myanin where she needs to go in order to keep an eye on our enemies. Both of you will report back at least once a week.”
Myanin did not like the idea of having any kind of stipulation placed upon her by the Order. It was as if she could physically feel Alston attempting to put restraints around her wrists and tie her hands together, or worse, putting a collar on her as if she were a dog he could lead around. But she had no good reason to argue without appearing suspicious.
“As you wish,” Tenia said, though it sounded to Myanin as if what the woman was really saying was “screw you.” Yes, now I’m sure I like her. Which was a good thing. Myanin was going to be spending some time with Tenia, and she didn’t want to have to kill the fae if she didn’t have to.
“We will leave immediately,” Myanin said, turning on her heel and marching to the door.
“Remember who holds your pledge of loyalty,” Ludcarab said before Myanin’s foot could cross the threshold.
She paused. It was probably only a couple of seconds, but it felt longer as she considered turning around and simply letting go of all the control she’d been constantly reminding