Page 5 of This Midsummer Heart
“I find myself in a generous mood,” he says airily. “You can have a few spots on one of my ships—ifyou can pay for it.”
“Of course I can pay for it. The House of Fetes wants for nothing!”
Auberon smiles. Curse him, he’s gotten a rise out of me again!
“Good. Then you won’t mind paying twenty-thousand conters.”
Twenty-thousand?Is he mad?
The awful truth sinks into the pit of my stomach. If I sail to Nox, I’ll be leaving most of my people behind, with less than half the House’s wealth to sustain them as their loss of magic robs them of their abilities, too—even some of their livelihoods. I would send for them, of course, once I have the runeships repaired in Nox. But what if, even in that ancient city, no one knows how to fix runeships depleted of their magic? And even if they do, how am I to pay for it?
I close my eyes. What would be left if Idon’tgo?
“Twenty-thousand it is,” I agree, almost through gritted teeth. I hate the way the words ring in my ears. I hateAuberon.
Without another word, I stand and make for the empty bar, where I leave coins for all the tea I’ve drunk. I’m beginning to feel queasy, my belly overfull. I’m also beginning to feel like I’ve just signed my people’s future away, all on one last, desperate gamble.
And isn’t trusting Auberon again the biggest gamble of all?
I leave the alehouse without once looking back at him. But it does not change that I can feel his presence behind me, and smell his woodsy, earthy scent. Or that I can feel his eyes boring into my retreating back.
I hate that he’s won. But more than that, I hope my people won’t hateme.
Chapter three
A Decision
Auberon
“Areyousureyouwant to do this, Auberon?” Robin the fae puk asks, omitting any use of my title. Or the deference I am due.
My decision is final. Why would I change my mind now? Everything I wanted to happen already has or is currently going according to plan. The House of Elves has a fat satchel of fae coin and valuable goods, being packed in crates with the rest of the House in preparation for our departure. Titaine has humbled herself before me at last. And tomorrow morning, I and every remaining elf in this House will leave for the City of Nox to build our new unified House of Elves—this time with the magic we require to thrive.
What we will not have is the House of Fetes joining us there, to foil us again and again as they have since this was merely the House of Wood Elves. There will be no fae to undercut us in trade agreements, or charge us astronomical prices for the enchanted weapons and goods our people need, despite the fact that we are the ones who craft those items they enchant. After tomorrow, Titaine can do whatever she likes; the bulk of the House of Elves will be on the enchanted ships, and the rest have returned to their forests or woods.
The House of Elves has defeated the House of Fetes at last. Only Titaine doesn’t know it yet.
And if I want it to stay that way, I clearly need to keep an eye on Robin the Goodfellow. I do not like that furrow in his brow, or the concern in his voice. The puk has been with me for many years now, but it’s obvious his sympathies for his fellow fae are resurfacing.
I grip Robin’s slim shoulders in both my hands, dwarfing him. Against his fair skin, the blue tint from my dark elf heritage makes him appear almost ruddy—or is this a flush of displeasure I’m seeing? “This is the wrong time to get a conscience, Puk.”
Robin holds my gaze with a steely edge. “Your entire plan hinges on the assumption that Titaine will not reach Nox without those ships.”
“She might,” I concede, releasing Robin’s shoulders and making my way to the window. From my study, I can spot a corner of the gatehouse on the House of Fetes’ plot of land, here in the heart of the city. “But she will not reach it for many months, and by then, the House of Elves will be established in our new home, and the House of Fetes will still be looking for a residence with whatever coin they’ve scraped together. It’s not an advantage I plan on allowing them to make up.”
The House of Fetes was the first to establish itself in Laufee…and they’ve never let the House of Elves forget it. Bad enough that it took generations for our people to unify. We have always been under the thumb of the House of Fetes when it came down to it, even though the elves became our own people, sovereign and distinct from the fae, thousands of years ago. The merchant houses of the entire Western Cross are reluctant to cross the fae, and in the case of the oldest and most powerful mortal families, their contracts with the fae existed hundreds of years before the House of Wood Elves put down their roots—so to speak—in this city.
Everything is going to change when we reached the City of Nox. My only regret is that I will not see the look on Titaine’s face when she reaches the empty docks, every one of the twelve runeboats I booked, collectively known asZephyr’s Bounty,already embarked upon their journey. The House of Elves will be on the Diam Sea for hours before the fae even know we’re gone.
Everything is going to be perfect. As long as Robin doesn’t muck it up, that is.
“You wouldn’t betray me, would you, Robin?” I ask, my eyes still fixed on that alabaster sliver of Titaine’s gatehouse. “You owe your allegiance to me.”
“I was born fae,” Robin says cautiously. “I am fae.”
“But?”
“Titaine gifted me to you like a bride brings a cord of firewood to her new home for luck. I am not an object. You know where I stand on this subject.”
