Page 42 of A Shard of Ice

The general raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “All in good time, icefae. All in good time.”

I swallow hard, trying to push down the rising fear in my chest. The shadows seem to dance around Belen; a sinister aura clings to him like a cloak. “We haven’t been offered anything to drink.” I’m parched. My tongue is sticking to the roof of my mouth. My lips feel like they could crack open at any moment. I’m sure the others must feel the same.

“How rude of my guards.” He hands me a skin. “Drink your fill, and then we can sit and have a talk. You can remove the binds.” He flaps his hand.

Why do I hate the sound of that? A talk. It sounds sinister.

I take a few gulps from the fat skin as a guard removes the binds from Damon, and then I hand it to him. He drinks his fill, giving it back to me. I drink down a few more mouthfuls when Cyrano starts moaning against his gag.

“You can remove that, but I want no more outbursts from you,” the general tells him.

Cyrano moans some more.

“Very well, you can remove his binds as well as the gag,” he instructs me.

It takes me a few fumbled attempts before I get it loose. As soon as his hands are free, Cyrano pulls away his gag and says, “This fae has been talking against the queen.”

My mouth drops open. I can’t believe what I am hearing.

“Treason!” he booms. “It’s all treason, I tell you,” Cyrano goes on, taking a step toward the general. “Kyrie and I have nothing to do with it. It’s him, all him.” He points at Damon.

“What are you doing?” I yell at the stupid idiot. He’s trying to save himself – me, too – but at what cost? “He’s talking nonsense,” I tell the general. “Don’t listen to the ramblings of a fool.”

I glance at Damon, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t respond in any way. Doesn’t even try to defend himself.

“You have the wool pulled over your eyes. He isn’t your friend,” Cyrano speaks fast, his face turning red. “He is a liar.” He glares at Damon. “And not to be trusted. Ask him who he is, General. Ask!”

The general folds his arms across his chest. He has an amused look on his face. He quirks a brow. “Why not? What is your name, icefae?”

I see something flash across Damon’s face. I’m not sure what it is exactly. Regret maybe. “Damon,” he says, holding his head high.

The general’s lips twitch, but he quickly schools his emotions.

“Where did the three of you come from?” He folds his arms, looking at each of us in turn. He is smirking like he has all the answers already. I think he does. I think this is a game to him.

There are orders to take Damon to the Ice Court. To her. Orders not to kill him. General Belen is toying with us.

“We—” Cyrano starts to say.

“No,” I tell him. “You’ve said enough.”

“Why are you protecting him?” Cyrano yells at me. “Ask him about the markings on his back, General Belen.”

Damon’s eyes harden, and his jaw tightens. If I hadn’t been paying attention, I would have missed it. “It’s nothing.” He shrugs.

“Not nothing.” Cyrano shakes his head. “Damon told us that he used to be very powerful. He isn’t a nobody. He had a spell cast over him. He thought he was human. The spell was broken when—”

“That’s enough.” I slap the bastard across the face, my hand stinging. “What is wrong with you? You’re the traitor.”

Cyrano holds a hand to his reddening cheek. “I should be asking the same of you. What is wrong with you, Kyrie? Why in Kakara’s name do you defend this prick?”

“This is all very interesting.” The general looks thoughtful. He turns to Damon, narrowing his eyes. “Did you speak against our queen?”

“He did. He—” Cyrano starts to say.

“I have heard enough from you, human,” the general tells Cyrano. There is a bite to his voice.

Cyrano takes a stumbling step back as if physically struck.

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