Page 60 of Omen of ice
Even if I wanted to lie to him, I couldn’t. The link saw to that. A hesitant grin spreads across my lips. “It was…different.”
His lips twitch. “How? Good different? Bad?”
“Verygood,” I say. The smile that follows is completely involuntary. I’m the first druid in centuries to access our magic without a priestess sigil—if that’s what happened. There isn’t anything I can think of to compare it to. “Better than a good brashing.”
“Is that right?” His eyes widen a little, but the surprise only lasts a moment. “I, uh, joke about it, but I didn’t know Aphelians were allowed to—”
My cheeks heat. “Why wouldn’t we?”
“Well, to be honest…” He clears his throat. “You humans have, uh, fickle hearts.”
“Fickle hearts? What is that supposed to mean?”
He waves his hand. “One proper brash, and you think you’re in love. Humans in love do foolish things. They hurt themselves and others and turn their back on their responsibilities.”
“So, you assume Aphelians are prohibited from having a physical relationship with another because we will—and let me be sure I have this correctly—fall in love, hurt people, then run away?”
“Well, when you put it like that…” At least he has enough sense to look apologetic.
“How does that make us fickle?”
He sighs. A surge of regret—probably for bringing it up in the first place—filters through the link, followed by a blast of confidence. “Your human nature makes you fickle. There is nothing constant about you when it comes to relationships. Nothing sure.” There’s no accusation in his tone, no teasing. Only what he considers fact. “You brash and kill each other at random or for insignificant reasons. You are always in love and then out of it, or angry or sad over the smallest consequences.”
“So, the fact that wefeelmakes us fickle? Aphelian damned her people because she loved Servis and the Fae. What about that isfickle? And let’s not forget about the war. It wiped most of you out!”
“Technically, the Great Drain is what took out the courts,” he says. “And Aphelian was the exception, not the rule. It’s the fact that humans, in general, feel so little.” He thrusts both hands into his pockets and shrugs. “It’s probably generalizing to sayhumans. Aphelians are…different. But for the most part, humans are like stars in the sky. Like the sun. They change position constantly. Their loyalties, affections—their promises—all as solid as a rotting carcass. Most human attentions shift as quickly as the wind.”
I put my hands on my hips. “And you can say this because you know so much about humans?”
“I’ve seen them come and go for years. Liani told me stories about them from before I was born. The Winter Court actually employed humans at one time. Obviously, this was a long, long time ago, but my point is, they had to stop. It caused too much trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Exactly the trouble I stated. They fell in and out of love with every new Fae they met. It caused quite a bit of chaos, from what I’m told.”
I wonder how many of the stories he’s been told have been relayed truthfully.
You used to beg us to take you in. Touseyou.
Buri has been around a long time, too. I wonder if what she said held more fact than I wanted to think about. “And I suppose the Fae are superior?”
“You sometimes see us as cold, but when we love, it is with only one other for the entirety of our existence. When we pledge our loyalty, it’s eternal. We don’t offer ourselves easily. The word of a Fae is more than a promise. It’s our lifeblood. If you manage to win the trust of a Fae, you have an unwavering, ceaseless support system. There is nothing we won’t do for those in our circle. That doesn’t change. It doesn’t fade. Petty squabbles don’t interfere.” He puffs out his shoulders and grins. “So, yes. In many ways, we are superior.”
“Interesting.” My tone is casual, but on the inside, I want to throttle him. “That doesn’t sound superior to me.”
His jaw clenches, the muscles in his neck twitching. “Oh no? Enlighten me, then. What does it sound like to you?”
“Have you ever considered that what you view as superiority is really more like a flaw? Take yourself, for example. You’ve pledged your loyalty to Orbik. You allow him to take your magic—to, as you put it, treat you like little more than a prisoner—so that you might one day help your people. All this, while you stand idly by as he does nothing to save those within his power.”
His shoulders stiffen, and I feel the argument rising inside him, but I keep going.
“Yes, human loyalty can shift. But sometimes that shift is necessary. Not even the Fae can predict someone’s path. What starts out as a noble service might one day turn bitter and cruel. And love? Don’t get me started on that bit of crap.”
“You seem to have the lives of the Fae so perfectly figured out.” There’s no malice in his words, just an abundance of sarcasm. “Please, continue.”
“You fall in love once during your lifetime. Is that right?”
“If it ever happens, yes. It is with just one individual.”
