"The Wild One requests your presence," one of the soldiers—a woman—says.
Tavian shoots me a worried look. It appears we have no choice but to walk with them.
We reach a massive and ancient palace made of stone and carved with more of the glyphs I saw on the steps. Inside, the walls are decorated with tapestries and silk curtains of blues and greens, and everywhere there is water. Fountains, pools, indoor waterfalls… the sound is soothing, and the air fresh.
Fae mingle about, talking, laughing, drinking and eating, reclining on colorful pillows and stone chairs. Their skin is dark, unlike most of the Fae I meet. None seem concerned by the dying vampires and Shade outside their door.
When we enter the throne room, a woman who could only be Metsi sits upon a raised throne, ancient and covered in vines. She wears a long gown of silk and satin, blues and whites. Her skin is dark, like that of the other Fae here, and pale blue tattoos cover her long arms and bald head. Her serpent, Wadu, curls around her left arm. She smiles when she sees Tavian. "It has been far too long since we've been graced by your presence. What brings you to our corner of Avakiri?"
"The realms have heard rumors of the Midnight Star’s return, of power being restored. Of war being waged against the vampires. I came to seek the truth," Tavian says.
I remain quiet. Waiting. Worrying. He could easily betray me. Tell them who I am. Get the money he so desperately wants.
Metsi flicks her hand and someone brings her a silver goblet with drink in it. "So much talk. So many rumors. Some have merit, others less. We will soon have the Midnight Star in our control. And the vampires, well, they will meet their end. Their time has come. It's our turn now. Our turn to reclaim what is ours."
"I've seen the Outlands. People speak of your defeat at Stonehill while they cower and drink away their sorrows, and yet you speak of victory? You are not prepared."
I glance at Tavian, wondering why he speaks so freely. Who is he to question a Druid?
Metsi laughs. "We have many weapons and soldiers here. We have Druids coming back into power. We have a spy amongst the enemy’s midst. And… we have an ally. One of the princes is on our side. He will ensure our victory from within."
Tavian and I both flinch at her words. A prince is working with Metsi? Who? I cannot think of even one who would side with the Fae.
Metsi smiles, probably in response to our faces. "I would very much love to include you amongst our supporters," she says. "Come, Tavian. Join us. Give up your vagabond ways and I will make you wealthier than you can imagine. I will give you anything your heart desires. Join with your kin once more and help us defeat our enemies."
Her speech is persuasive, but I won’t fight my brothers. Tavian however….
"I appreciate the offer, but I am done with war, Metsi. You know this." Tavian sounds casual, but I see the tension in his muscles. This does not seem to be the conversation he expected.
Metsi rises from her throne and walks down the steps to stand closer to us. She stops a few feet in front of Tavian. "Have you not brought me anything then?" she asks. "Do tell me, who is this friend of yours? Has she a tongue?"
"This is Darnsa, my apprentice," he says without missing a beat. "We were just passing through and wanted to pay our respects. I have nothing to offer this visit, but if you have a request, I will do my best to oblige."
He's smooth, but she's looking too closely at me. I resist the urge to clutch the sword at my hip, but my hand is twitching. I'm ready.
"Oh, Tavian Gray. How you disappoint." Metsi raises her hand and waves it over my face. "Look here. Not a mere apprentice at all, but rather Kayla Windhelm. The bastard Shade of the late king. And a pretty prize, indeed."
A low growl forms under Tavian's breath. "She's with me, under my protection."
Metsi flashes a look at him, her eyes narrowing. "I will pay you handsomely for her. Rumor has it you are in want of a small fortune. I can provide that, no strings attached. Leave the girl here and you may leave with what you can carry."
I suck in my breath, waiting. This is what Tavian has wanted. And even if he refuses, why would that stop a Druid? I look around, searching for windows and doors, searching for a way to flee, wondering if I can find my way back to the Waystone. I see no options.
A moment. The air thickens between the three of us.
Tavian takes three measured breaths before answering. "Metsi, you do not wish to press me. We leave now."
"Guards!" the Druid screams, and dozens of armed soldiers surround us.
I pull my sword out, but Tavian lays a hand on mine. "Trust me, please," he whispers.
I don't sheathe my sword, but I lower it slowly.
All eyes are on us.