I had just ducked behind a hedge when I heard Tamlin and Lucien approaching. I silently swore and froze. Maybe I could sneak across the fields to the stables. If there was something amiss, the stables not only had shelter but also a horse for me to flee on. I was about to make for the high grasses mere steps beyond the edge of the gardens when Tamlin’s snarl rippled through the air on the other side of the hedge.
I turned—just enough to spy them through the dense leaves. Stay hidden, he’d said. If I moved now, I would surely be noticed.
“I know what day it is,” Tamlin said—but not to Lucien. Rather, the two of them faced … nothing. Someone who wasn’t there. Someone invisible. I would have thought they were playing a prank on me had I not heard a low, disembodied voice reply.
“Your continued behavior is garnering a lot of interest at court,” the voice said, deep and sibilant. I shivered, despite the warmth of the day. “She has begun wondering—wondering why you haven’t given up yet. And why four naga wound up dead not too long ago.”
“Tamlin’s not like the other fools,” Lucien snapped, his shoulders pushed back to raise himself to his full height, more warrior-like than I’d yet seen him. No wonder he had all those weapons in his room. “If she expected bowed heads, then she’s more of an idiot than I thought.”
The voice hissed, and my blood went cold at the noise. “Speak you so ill of she who holds your fate in her hands? With one word, she could destroy this pathetic estate. She wasn’t pleased when she heard of you dispatching your warriors.” The voice now seemed turned toward Tamlin. “But, as nothing has come of it, she has chosen to ignore it.”
There was a deep-throated growl from the High Lord, but his words were calm as he said, “Tell her I’m getting sick of cleaning up the trash she dumps on my borders.”
The voice chuckled, the sound like sand shifting. “She sets them loose as gifts—and reminders of what will happen if she catches you trying to break the terms of—”
“He’s not,” Lucien snarled. “Now, get out. We have enough of your ilk swarming on the borders—we don’t need you defiling our home, too. For that matter, stay the hell out of the cave. It’s not some common road for filth like you to travel through as they please.”
Tamlin loosed a growl of agreement.
The invisible thing laughed again, such a horrible, vicious sound. “Though you have a heart of stone, Tamlin,” it said, and Tamlin went rigid, “you certainly keep a host of fear inside it.” The voice sank into a croon. “Don’t worry, High Lord.” It spat the title like a joke. “All will be right as rain soon enough.”
“Burn in Hell,” Lucien replied for Tamlin, and the thing laughed again before a flap of leathery wings boomed, a foul wind bit my face, and everything went silent.
They breathed deeply after another moment. I closed my eyes, needing a steadying breath as well, but massive hands clamped onto my shoulders, and I yelped.
“It’s gone,” Tamlin said, releasing me. It was all I could do not to sag against the hedges.
“What did you hear?” Lucien demanded, coming around the corner and crossing his arms. I shifted my gaze to Tamlin’s face, but found it to be so white with anger—anger at that thing—that I had to look again at Lucien.
“Nothing—I … well, nothing I understood,” I said, and meant it. None of it made any sense. I couldn’t stop shaking. Something about that voice had ripped away the warmth from me. “Who—what was that?”
Tamlin began pacing, the gravel churning beneath his boots. “There are certain faeries in Prythian who inspired the legends that you humans are so afraid of. Some, like that one, are myth given flesh.”
Inside that hissing voice I’d heard the screaming of human victims, the pleading of young maidens whose chests had been split open on sacrificial altars. Mentions of “court,” seemingly different from Tamlin’s own—was that she the one who had killed Tamlin’s parents? A High Lady, perhaps, in lieu of a Lord. Considering how ruthless the High Fae were to their families, they had to be nightmarish to their enemies. And if there was to be warring between the courts, if the blight had left Tamlin already weakened …
“If the Attor saw her—” Lucien said, glancing around.
“It didn’t,” Tamlin said.
“Are you certain it—”
“It didn’t,” Tamlin growled over his shoulder, then looked at me, his face still pale with fury, lips tight. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
Understanding a dismissal, and craving the locked door of my bedroom, I trudged back to the house, contemplating who this she was to make Tamlin and Lucien so nervous and to command that thing as her messenger.
The spring breeze whispered that I didn’t want to know.
Chapter 20
After a tense dinner during which Tamlin hardly spoke to Lucien or me, I lit all the candles in my room to chase away the shadows.