“It’s over,” I said, opening my eyes again to clear skies and order. “And I don’t see anything lying in wait for us.”
When we finally reached town, most of the major damage was restored. The ground was littered with fairy dust and bits of wing, pebbles and ash. A dozen busted wine casks were scattered in front of the Kraig residence, and the deep purple fluid splashed beneath our horses’ hooves where it ran in rivulets over the dark stone path, trickling halfway through town before waning to nothing. Troughs were overturned, crowns of houses were lying in rubble on front porches, and horses were painted with berry juice and shimmer. But the fires were no longer burning, the floods had been diverted. No bodies lay in the street.
Rider met us near the center of town. I could tell by his appearance such had not been the case when they’d arrived.
“I suggest making your way to Ruby’s house,” he said. “It appears her protections worked quite nicely to deter the fey.” He glanced around, clearly not wanting to voice the real reason in front of a crowd. “Rhys waits for you there.”
I nodded, understanding his hesitation. They’d saved one, and by the looks of the elves here, they wanted no part of it.
“Is anyone hurt?” I asked.
“Ruby is tending them,” he said. “Seems they’ve taken to her, here at least.” He saw my uncertainty. “We have everything else under control.” He was right, but it wasn’t easy to walk away.
Rider glanced past me to Anvil. “What did you get into?”
I followed his gaze to find Anvil’s forearm caked with blood. I’d not even noticed.
Anvil waved it off. “They weren’t trackers. Sent some muscle to tear up things while we were down there looking for them.”
I wondered briefly if there was more truth to his words than he realized. Council might not be at the temple at all. But I didn’t mention it, this was no time for supposition. Chevelle and I left Anvil and Rider to exchange stories and assist the others. As we rode through Camber, the passing elves stopped to watch, a mixture of emotion meeting our presence.
Ruby’s home stood out among the rest, clean of assault, and I had to wonder if it had been her protections as Rider had suggested, or if the fey had done this intentionally.
We stopped in front of the house where another horse stood, drinking from the only unmolested water trough in town. I stepped down, staring at the poor beast as it nervously puffed into the water. A smattering of small handprints painted its ribcage while its mane stood in thick, gooey spikes. I shook my head absently; I would never understand their fixation with horses.
Chevelle waited for me at the door, where I took one deep breath before nodding for him to go on. We slipped in quickly, dreading what we’d find on the other side.
Ruby’s living area seemed smaller, though I couldn’t say whether it was owing to my memory or the pale blue fairy that hovered above the couch, flittering nervously from side to side.
“Myst,” I sighed, undecided if I was relieved to know her.
“Lord Freya,” she crooned, “so good to have a friend here.” Her expression was hopeful until she saw mine did not change, and then her shoulders fell.
I moved forward, taking a seat across from her as she dropped gracefully onto the couch. Her feet never touched the floor as her slender legs curled up beneath the wispy fabric of her skirts. It would have been too fragile for most fey, but Myst was more than a few decades old. Not that anyone could tell by looking. The fey were ageless, growing to full maturity within a couple of years and remaining as such until death, which came by some means other than old age more often than not.
I glanced briefly at Rhys, who appeared in fair condition. Myst would have been exceedingly well behaved in her current predicament. Given what she’d find outside, escape would be far worse than anything we could do to her.
She waited patiently for me to speak, though anyone could see it pained her to stay still. One corner of her pale bottom lip was tucked under her teeth and she picked at the poppy seeds detailing her skirt. But her colorless eyes remained on me.
“Tell me you’re not in league with Grand Council,” I said.
She laughed, but it took on a uneasy stutter when she realized I was serious.
I leaned forward. “Why are you here? All of you?”
“We were supposed to have free rein once council was removed.” Her gaze flicked to Chevelle and then back to me. “You know, before someone called war.”
I glared at her. We’d not even left the castle before they’d attacked, let alone given them reason to declare war.
She shrugged. “We got a little excited.”
I stood, suddenly no longer able to bear being in this room, this situation.
She stood as well, silk-covered feet landing noiselessly on stone. “What about me?”
I smiled. “You are free to go.”
Chapter Twenty
Messengers