Page 83 of Hidden

She’d never seen him with a beard. They were not the custom among the fae, and his was a tangled mess. He wore a loose, casual tunic with a richly embroidered robe thrown over it. Clothing he wore reading a book by the evening fire, and most likely what he was dressed in the night he’d been dragged away by Teegar’s troops. The fine fabrics were now threadbare rags.

He squinted down at her, showing red-rimmed, watering eyes. She dimmed the light she’d left floating above them until he could hold her gaze without blinking.

“Lila?” His voice cracked, as if he hadn’t used it in a long time. “How did you get here?”

“Never mind that. We’re taking you to safety.”

“We?” He looked around, seeming bewildered.

Rafe had pulled the door closed without engaging the lock. He stood beside it, hands clasped behind his back.

“Who is he?” her father asked.

“A better friend than we deserve. Come on.”

Lila tried to help him stand, but he was too unsteady to keep his feet. Though he had not been spelled into sleep, it was plain that he’d been left in the dark with little food or drink. She sat him down again.

He slumped forward with a deep sigh, shaking his head. “Leave me. I thank you to the depths of the Abyss and beyond for finding me, but I would not risk your lives for mine.”

The last words were so faint, Lila could barely make them out. She took her father’s hands and held them lightly, all too aware of the bones of his long, almost fleshless fingers. A memory rose of those hands holding a brush. Her father had been known for his fine, flowing calligraphy. He’d always loved beauty more than the sword.

Tears filled her eyes. She blinked them away, refusing to let him see. “Be at peace. As they say in the city, I’ve got this.”

Or she hoped she did. She was shaky herself after healing six wolves already and digging deep into her reserves. But this was her father, who had always done his quiet best to ensure she was happy and—above all—free. Lila could not hold back now.

This time, no finesse was required. There was no spell to break. All she needed to give was her strength. A soft glow gloved their hands as she sent her healing to him. As always, it was like flowing into a maze more than it was filling a cup. There was no central reservoir to supply, but dozens of small places where damage was done.

“Lila,” her father said, a note of protest in his voice. “You need your strength.”

She squeezed his hands. “I said I’ve got this.”

The injuries she found were weeks old, maybe months. She realized she was not entirely sure when he’d been kidnapped from his own home. One more thing her mother had not shared.

Lila felt the ground list under her feet and realized she was swaying where she stood. Rafe’s hand settled on her shoulder, steadying her. She sensed his worry and was thankful he trusted her to work anyway. When she finally released her father’s hands, Rafe stood behind her, letting her lean against his solid form.

Her father rose, unsteady at first. Lila reached out, but he caught his balance.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his hands, palms out. “No, daughter, you’ve done your work well. I will walk out of this place with dignity.”

He smiled then, the wry, crooked humor she remembered dimmed but present. Lila’s heart squeezed with relief and love, and the tears she’d been holding back spilled down her cheeks. She flung her arms around her father’s neck and squeezed him tight.

“How long have you been here?” she asked on a sob. “I thought you were in the king’s custody.”

“If so, I’ve heard no charges or accusations, and King Elroth is scrupulous about observing protocol.”

“Then what happened?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve been here since I was taken, though I am not certain where we are. The vehicle that brought me here had no windows, and no way to see which roads we took.”

She bit her lip, pulling back. “We are beneath a way station Lord Farras built for the king.”

Her father’s look of confusion said it all. He’d been no more aware of this place than she had been when Sala had convinced her to come find Ademar.

“Douse the light,” Rafe whispered, urgency in his tone.

Lila didn’t ask questions. She let the light go, a little relieved to spare even that small drain on her energy. They stood in the dark, still and silent. It was then she heard what had alerted Rafe—footsteps roaming near the door where the wolves had escaped. Ademar would have deactivated any magic keeping that exit secure when he’d helped Teegar escape. That wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Sure enough, a moment later, she caught the charcoal stink of a fresh spell being cast. Judging by the intensity of the smell, it was strong and nasty magic. Defensive magic, no doubt. A trap or a tripwire.

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