Page 32 of Omen of ice
“You’re the expert, then? On Fae? On the affairs of our court?” His eyes darken. “So, tell me, Aphelian, whatshouldI do?”
“If your uncle won’t help them, then you should. All your power and wealth must be good for something.”
“I have no power and wealth.” He breathes in slowly, then out. In, out. In, out. Like he’s trying to keep the ice at bay. Thankfully, we aren’t close to the village, but if he loses control, I’ll be squarely in the blast zone. I got lucky that day after the market. I’m not eager to tempt fate.
“I’m essentially a prisoner,” he says once he’s calm.
If Valen looks the other way as Orbik allows his people to starve, doesn’t that make him just as guilty? If he’s that complacent about something so dire, what else is he willing to ignore?
“Then fight your way out of captivity,” I say.
“You make it sound so easy. I have responsibilities. Things that I must—”
A high-pitched whizzing sound, followed by a blurry projectile, flies past my head. An instant later, another. The second is accompanied by a sharp pain across my shoulder. “What the—”
Another object zooms by, this one impaling the thick trunk of an oak to our left.
An arrow.
I grab the back of Valen’s tunic and hurl him sideways just in time to escape the next arrow. From the brush on the other side of the clearing, several figures emerge.
Four large Fae, all armed, cross to the center of the clearing. “Do I have your attention now?” the one in front calls. He holds up his bow and bares his teeth.
“Wanlo said you’ve refused to help us,” the one beside him yells. He’s the shortest of the four, with onyx hair and a rusty broadsword.
“That’s not true.” Valen tenses but plasters on a smile. He spreads his arms for a moment in a placating gesture, then tugs at the edge of his collar. “I offered the lot of you lessons to attract the fairer sex, but he turned me down.”
The shortest swings his sword, twirling it in an impressive display.
Show-off…but impressive.
I curse. Our argument is going to have to wait, because there’s a good chance Valen’s mouth is going to get us in trouble. “Could you be serious for a single instant?”
Valen snorts. “Have you ever considered you’re more than serious enough for both of us? Besides, tell me I’m wrong. I mean…look at them. They need all the help they can get.”
He turns to the group of Fae and opens his mouth again, but I jump in front of him. “Wanlo is a damned liar,” I shout at them. “I was there. Valen told him we would inform Orbik when we returned to the estate.”
They laugh for a moment before the leader quiets them with a wave of his hand. “So, as I said, you refuse to help us.”
“We’ve got a resolution. One where everyone wins,” another of them shouts. He’s wearing a wolfskin cloak and stands several heads taller than the others. The side of his face is pocked and rough, like he’s been badly burned in the past.
“What is your idea?” Valen steps around me. “I’ll be sure the Winter Lord hears it.”
The one in front lifts the crossbow. “It’s not a what. It’s a who.You.”
“The way we see it, the only way to get Orbik to pay attention is to do something drastic.” The tallest grins. “Maybe if we send you back to him one piece at a time, he’ll finally help our village.”
“Is that any way to treat someone who’s trying to assist you in finding love? Or, at the very least, a good time.” Valen delivers the words with his trademark jest, but the tone lacks amusement. Beneath each syllable is a razor ready to slice. His body tenses, shoulders rigid and arms taut.
The air around me grows frigid. One look at Valen, and I know what he’s thinking. I lean just a bit closer, keeping my voice low and my eyes on the enemy. “If you do it, they’ll know about the magic. You’ll have to kill them all. If that’s something you can live with, then proceed. If not, take a deep breath, calm yourself, and stand down.”
He hesitates for a moment before his fingers go slack. He isn’t a cold-blooded killer.
But I can be—if I need to.
“Turn around and go back to the village,” I say to the group of them. “I don’t want to hurt you, but if you force my hand, Iwillcut you down.”
There’s no verbal response, but the spark of fury in their eyes says it all.
