“They do tend to show up at times of war and, well, suffering.”

Great.

“Jessie,” Maven calls out. “Can we speak privately? This really is a matter meant for royalty, not the peasants.”

Arion grits his teeth and whirls around. “You’re one to talk, brother.”

Maven smiles that dazzling smile. Even in the darkness, across the meadow, I can see the bright white of his teeth. “Whatever do you mean?” He has no idea he’s walked right into Arion’s trap.

“Didn’t your mother tell you?”

“Arion,” I warn, because I’m not sure this is the time or place for big family revelations.

But he ignores me.

“Your mother had an affair with a lowly winter courtesan. Which makes you, dear brother, a bastard and me the heir apparent.”

Maven’s smile grows taut against his teeth.

“Her plan was to marry you to Jessie, legitimizing your lowly blood,” Arion goes on.

Maven’s nostrils flare. I can sense his desire to accuse Arion of lying, but of course, as a summer fae, Arion can’t lie. Not like I can.

Everything he’s said is the truth.

“Deep down I think you always knew you didn’t belong,” Arion adds. “I know I felt it.”

“Maybe you believe it to be true,” Maven says. “Doesn’t make it so.”

Arion shakes his head. “Your mother admitted as much to Jessie. I heard a recording of her confession.”

Maven’s just digging a deeper hole, every word Arion says cementing the truth a little more.

The Fairies of Suffering are spreading wider as the brothers talk. The way they move is not unlike that of the shifters. Nearly silent, hard to detect without staring right at them.

“Mouse,” Bran says again, the warning clear in his voice.

The air is charged with impending carnage. I can feel it. I know Bran does too.

I put myself in front of Sam. “Please promise me you’ll run if things go south?”

She snorts. “You’re funny.”

Dammit Sam.

If only I didn’t have such a stubborn, badass best friend.

Before we left, Cal gave her a blade that she has strapped at her hip. It’s a fine weapon, crafted by some infamous weapons master that Cal has on speed dial apparently. The blade has a stout handle but with delicate filigree along its side. It’s hard not to think he had the blade specifically made for Sam because when she took it in hand, it fit her perfectly, all of it balanced for her grip and size.

But will it be enough to fight fae known as the Fairies of Suffering? Highly doubt it.

“I came here to retrieve my future wife,” Maven calls out. “Regardless of what stories you’ve been fed, brother, that fact will not change. Jessie and I will be married, and we will unite the courts and restore the balance to the fae realm.”

“Think again,” Bran says, his voice ringing out and then he shoots across the clearing, headed straight for Maven.

Now that I’ve been in the middle of several fights and battles, I have to wonder if all war starts the same: quietly at first, and then all at once.

Unseen one moment, absolute carnage the next.