Page 24 of Cold Hearted
“Aron, stop,” one of the other fae barked, shooting his companion a dark look. “If the lass is telling the truth and we don’t take her seriously, we’ll be whipped.”
That shut the fae, Aron, up. I resisted the urge to shoot him a smug smile.
The other fae turned toward me. He’d been one of the men who initially appeared confused, but now he regarded me seriously. “I’m Bram,” he said. “We’re part of the infantry in the Northern Army. You say the commander’s been captured? How do you know this?”
“I was with the commander when we were set upon by bandits.They knocked me unconscious and took him. It’s been hours, so it’s imperative we start looking for him right away.”
“How do you know our commander and why were you with him?” he asked, suspicion clouding his eyes.
This was the tricky part. I’d claimed to have news about Lord Roan when I’d first arrived in Ethereum, and I’d somehow ended up shackled for my troubles. I didn’t want a repeat of that experience, so I needed to tread carefully.
“The commander is a friend,” I lied. “He was escorting me to Noreum.”
“A friend, you say?” Bram asked with a pointed look at the cuffs circling my wrists.
I cursed myself for not having the foresight to pull my sleeves further down over them. I was slipping. “Technically, I’m a captive of Zander’s. But for completely ridiculous reasons. I can assure you, we are on friendly terms.”
His eyebrows winged at the informal way I addressed his commander and the unintentional suggestion that Zander and I were close in an intimate way. This time my cheeks did warm, and I cursed myself again. I was doing this all wrong.
“Zander?” Bram said and then shared some sort of silent communication with his companions. I wasn’t getting a good feeling about this. After a few short moments he nodded, and all four of them rose to their feet, ignoring their unfinished meal and drinks. “I don’t know if you’re telling the truth, but I’ll take you to Captain Regis and let him decide for himself. For your sake, I hope you are because the captain doesn’t suffer liars. If you’re being untruthful with us, a beating will be the least of the possible punishments you’ll face.”
His threat was meant to scare me, but instead they caused a surge of relief to flood my system. Thank the stars we were finally getting somewhere.
After they dropped some coins on the table, I followed the fae out of The Sad Bass Tavern.
“She has the commander’s horse,” one of the men said with worry.
“I told you I’m telling the truth,” I snapped.
With that, I swung up onto Omen while the men readied their own horses. Once they mounted, I followed them through the streets of Harpy Bay and up into the foothills, where the military was camped.
We reached the military encampment in under fifteen minutes. There were about two dozen white canvas tents set up in a flat clearing. After stowing our horses in the makeshift stables, Bram, Aron, and the other two fae I didn’t know the names of marched me to the center of camp, two before me and two at my back. We stopped in front of a brown tent easily four times the size of any of the others. Two unseelie guards with fish scales running the length of their arms and neck flanked the entrance to the shelter.
Bram broke off from the group to whisper something to one of the guards, who ducked into the tent a moment later. It wasn’t even a full minute before he came back out and gestured for me to enter. I gave Bram a sidelong look as I passed him, and he just stared back with a resigned look on his face. They didn’t bother to unarm me before I entered the tent, probably believing a female wasn’t much of a threat.
Idiots.
The inside of the tent was blessedly warm. Lanterns were positioned around the perimeter of the space and a fire burned in the middle,the smoke releasing through a hole above it. There was only a single fae in the tent. He appeared to be in his late thirties or early forties and was seated at a long desk off to the side. There were papers scattered in front of him and he didn’t bother standing or even glancing up when I entered.
“Captain Regis?” I asked as I approached.
He finally looked up then, his eyes a glacier blue and his red hair pulled back at the nape of his neck. I tried not to stare at the pair of thick brown horns protruding from his forehead.
Unseelie.
“That is, indeed, my name,” he said. “But the question is not who I am, but rather who you are and if you truly have information on the commander or not.” His gaze was piercing, but I wasn’t intimidated easily.
“My name is Dawn, but who I am is of no importance. What’s important is that we start looking for the commander right away.”
Captain Regis’ gaze dipped to my wrists, which were now covered, but I had no doubt he already knew about the cuffs. Standing suddenly, he skirted the desk and came at me, hands reaching for my arms.
I sidestepped him, jerking away from his grasp as my hand itched to grab the dagger at my side.
Stopping, Captain Regis tilted his head. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to my wrists.
I didn’t want him to look at the cuffs, but I didn’t see a way out of it, so I resigned myself and held an arm out to him. He pushed my sleeve back and gently twisted my wrist this way and that as he studied the infuriating device.
Finally, he let me go and stepped back to lean up against the desk. He folded his arms over his chest, his face unreadable. “Those are indeed Commander Zander’s,” he said. “How do you expect me to believe that you want to help him when you’re still cuffed with his shackles and have seemingly stolen his horse?”
