Page 102 of Threadbound

“Because I dinna intend to bring you into it,” Bran replied, his voice low and infuriatingly even.

“But we’re threadbound—doesn’t that mean that I’m in it whether I want to be or not?”

“I was hoping that if we dinna complete the bond, you wouldna have to be.”

“So you were, what, protecting me?” That was irritating. “Why? Because I’m a stupid human?” Jamie might not understand fae culture, but looks of derision and pity were universal, it seemed, and he’d received enough of the former and seen enough of the latter directed at Bran that he knew many of the other fae didn’t think much of his presence at the Court of Shades.

“You are na’ a stupid human,” Bran replied, sounding exasperated.Welcome to the club, Jamie thought viciously. “You dinna understand our ways, and you dinna have magic. That makes Elfhame especially dangerous for you.”

“Neither one of us has been attacked in Elfhame,” Jamie pointed out.

Bran sighed again. “No, and I dinna think thegeàrd soillierwould come after you in Dunehame. Me, yes, but I dinna expect you to be in any danger there.”

“Well, I was.” Jamie tried not to think too hard about the dead man they’d left in the close, his blood congealing into the cobblestones.

“Aye, you were,” Bran confirmed. “Which is why we’re here now.”

“So then I’m involved, whether you like it or not. So tell me.” Jamie crossed his arms over his chest, scowling at the smaller fae.

Bran studied him, maybe trying to decide whether or not Jamie was going to be stubborn about this. He was.

“I dinna suppose you know the stories of the Oak King and the Holly King…” Bran began, his voice tired.

Jamie blinked. “Actually, yeah. Momma used to tell us that story every year at Christmas and Midsummer. How the Oak King and the Holly King were always at war with each other, how the Oak King ruled the summer, and the Holly King the winter.” Jamie blinked rapidly. “Are… are theyreal?”

Bran’s lips twisted wryly. “Aye, they are.”

“Andthatis the war?”

“Not… exactly.”

Jamie waited.

Bran tugged on a feathered lock of hair with agitated fingers. “There is always a balance struck, between day and night, between summer and winter, between Sidhe and Sluagh. The cycles of life and death and rebirth. In the old days, there was a Great War, and the Holly King and Oak King fought bloody battles that raged across the fields and forests of both Elfhame and Dunehame.”

“Dunehame, too?” Jamie couldn’t help but ask.

“Aye,” Bran confirmed. “This was an ancient war, long before the people who built what is now Edinburgh.”

“Like… Neanderthals?”

Bran frowned. “I dinna know what that is,” he replied. “But this was in the days before the Romans came and brought their iron wars to the mortals’ wall.”

Jamie thought back through what he knew about Scottish history. “Hadrian’s Wall,” he said out loud. “So pre-Roman conquest.” Then he frowned. “Weren’t you… not alive?”

Bran’s lips quirked again. “I was not,” the fae confirmed. “Since we are the same age. But the Oak King and Holly King—Darach mac Craobh-na-Beatha and Cuileann mac Eug—have been alive far longer than the petty kingdoms of humankind.”

Jamie swallowed. “And one of them wants me dead?”

Bran’s expression was grave. “Darach mac Craobh-na-Beatha, aye. You and me both. And my father, and the Holly King himself.”

There was something so mind-numbingly terrifying about being targeted by a being that was older than modern civilization that Jamie simply stared.

Bran stepped forward and hesitantly placed a hand on his arm, causing him to start. “I willna let him hurt you,” the fae said softly.

“He’s older than bloodydirt,” Jamie protested. “How the hell are you going to do that?”

Bran pressed his lips together as though trying to stop a smile. “I work for Cuileann mac Eug,” he replied. “And the Holly King is just as old and just as powerful.”

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