Page 91 of A Fate so Cruel

“Too quiet. I miss the city.”

He wasn’t sure he agreed. He’d always loved the lake house, even if Saoirse complained about the lack of room service. She never brought slaves. He’d always thought it was because of him, but Rion was fairly certain their mother had never allowed slaves on the grounds either. Maybe it was some unspoken rule he’d never learned.

A light breeze carried a revolting scent that had Rion recoiling. Selina crinkled her nose. “Well, whoever that is isn’t having a pleasant day.”

With nothing better to do, the pair followed the scent. It led them outside the village and toward a narrow river bend.

Four Fae males stood beside a dead horse, all whispering in hushed tones. Their gazes looked the approaching pair up and down but none reached for their weapons, fear didn’t sting Rion’s nostrils, and one even waved in greeting.

He definitely preferred this over the city.

“If you’ve come for water, best to head back. The innkeeper should have a reserve.” He was short with a stocky build. The calluses on his hands spoke of hard labor. Rion doubted the male had ever wielded a sword in his life. He still noted the hunting knives in their belts.

“What happened?” Selina asked, staring at the poor creature with its tongue rolled out. Rion grimaced. He could deal with bodies, but for some reason horses always got to him. He might have even called them a favorite animal if he were given the time to think about such things.

“The water,” another said, his voice even gruffer than the first. “It’s been killing our livestock for weeks. We try to keep them fenced off, but occasionally they’re too smart for their own good and work around the latch.” The male shook his head. “A shame he wasn’t smart enough to avoid the water.”

Selina exchanged a glance with him. “Has anyone else been . . . hurt by it?”

“We had a few younglings fall ill, but they recovered. The nearby wells are tainted, too.”

“How do you get water then?” Rion asked.

The four males looked him over, sizing him up, he realized. They made eye contact, puffed out their chests . . . then relaxed.

“There’s a small lake on the edge of the mountains.” He pointed north. “We take a wagon full of barrels every few days to restock. Works well enough.”

“That sounds . . . miserable.”

“It’s starting to affect the crops, too. Dain’s entire field shriveled up last week. And Imogen’s is beginning to do the same.”

“Have you gone upriver to see what’s contaminating it?”

They nodded. “We went as far as we could travel in a day, but didn’t see anything unusual. Just more dead animals along the way.”

“The wolves forced us to turn back,” another chimed in. “Unlike you lot, we’re not exactly equipped to fend them off. Especially not a pack that size.”

“I keep telling you, those weren’t wolves. Wolves don’t leave footprints that size.”

“Don’t go scaring off travelers with your theories.”

“I’d love to hear them, actually,” Selina inquired.

One of the males rolled his eyes as the other continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. “There’s Dark Fae about.”

“There are not,” his friend chided.

“There are,” he argued. “They’ve come down from the mountain.”

“Why?” Selina asked and Rion thought she might honestly be interested.

The male shrugged. “Who can say? Maybe they’re tired of being confined.”

Vines snaked up from the ground and Rion stiffened, anticipating a fight, but they simply wrapped around the horse’s back hooves. “We ought to bury the poor fellow. Lest those wolves­—”

“Dark Fae,” his companion interrupted.

“Lest they catch the scent and decide we’re their next meal.” He glared at his companion.

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