“She couldn’t give me a straight answer to my questions.”
Davien chuckles. “That’s just fae mannerisms.”
“No.” I hold him as he tries to step away, jerking him back toward me. “You weren’t here to hear what I was asking. How I was asking.” I wonder if Allor left without saying very much to Davien to sow this very doubt that’s taking root. “I think she’s a double agent and I think we’re going to walk right where they want us. I asked her if the king was going to attack us—yes or no—and she wouldn’t answer.”
“That’s Allor.”
“Stop making excuses for her.” My grip finally goes slack. I search his face, desperate for him to believe me. “Davien, who do you believe more? Her or me?”
He inhales but no words come. I stare up at him, expectant. I wait until I ache, until his silence is a weight that wounds me with slow, crushing force. He said he loved me, but he won’t believe me. So what good is love? This is just further proof of what I’ve always known—love is good for nothing.
“I need the magic. Everything can be put right once I have it,” he says, finally. “That is what Vena and all of Dreamsong wish for.”
“And I want to give it to you but—”
“No buts. If you are truly on my side then you will help me. Now what did she say?”
“Just that the king’s focus is on Dreamsong.” I open my mouth to continue speaking but he ignores it, stepping away.
“We ride within the hour.”
My hands ball into fists and that same feeling of magic overtaking my better sense returns. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. Davien will never forgive me if I turn his magic on him.
One last attempt. “Davien, can we at least wait until tomorrow? Delay a little? Maybe by changing our schedule we can throw them off.”
“There is nothing to throw off because there is no attack coming on us. Though we have all the more reasons to hurry.”
“But—”
“I need my magic to protect Dreamsong and the more we delay the greater the risk. I have spoken on this and I am your king.” His voice raises at the end to a near shout. Davien points at the ground, as though he is trying to stake the very earth as his own.
“No…” I shake my head. “You are not my king. You are the Fae King. And I am clearly nothing but a lowly human vessel housing your magic. So fine, we ride, Your Majesty. But if there is blood today then know it is on your hands.”
I turn back to the horses and ignore him as he storms back into the safe house.
* * *
The borderof the Acolyte’s territory on the north is nothing more than a break in the trees. As the sun hits my shoulders, the same crawling feeling as the last time I crossed through the great barriers that surrounded the forests of Dreamsong inches up my back, causing shivers. On the other side, I am exposed and more alert than ever.
But there is just more forest ahead of us, at least until we reach a glassy lake. The trees on the other side are sparse, with moss hanging off their skeletal arms. The ground looks lower, wetter. More like a marsh than the firm earth we’ve been riding on for the past day and a half.
However, what is most notable is the wall of swirling fog that obscures even the sun. It’s impossible to see more than one tree deep. Anything could hide in that milky mist.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” Davien says softly.
“The fog of histories, fog of kings, the rite of passage kings of lore traversed to be blessed in the ancient waters of the Lake of Anointing,” Giles says as if reading from a storybook.
“So this isn’t the Lake of Anointing?” I whisper to Giles. He shakes his head.
“I find rumors of haunted places to be greatly exaggerated.” Shaye nudges her horse, guiding it around the lake. We three share a look and follow behind her. “Usually, it’s just places someone wants to keep others from and doesn’t know how to do it better than some silly story.”
“It’s not a silly story.” Giles catches up to her. “Why do you think King Boltov never came to anoint himself?”
“Because he anointed himself in the blood of his enemies and didn’t need a lake to validate his claim to the throne after that?” Shaye’s words are dry and peppered with bitterness. I swallow thickly at the thought. My eyes are already scanning the mists for Allor. She could be anywhere in that murk. And she is just as bloodthirsty as the king I know she serves most faithfully.
“Because he knew that the fog would refuse to let him pass since he wasn’t a legitimate heir of Aviness. He would be lost forever.”
“We will have no such trouble,” Davien proclaims.
