Page 126 of The Iron Dagger
“But,” croaked Mog with difficulty. “The others—”
“Silence,” said Adira, and he was struck mute once more. “There is little time to waste. Corvus’ men will be here by sunset, and we must move court quickly. I will speak to each sorcerer myself to reveal the truth in time. But you and Armot’s councilors will have no part in the interrogation. We need none of your barbaric methods.”
A chill crawled over Hara’s skin. She knew that the fae could be cruel; she had seen glimpses of their torture in Turnswallow’s memories.
“Lady Angharad and her companion are free to go, with my gratitude. And hear this, all of you,” said Adira, and a rough, deep timbre entered her voice when she next spoke. “No fae shall reveal what was said in this room. You are bound to this order by your very blood. May it boil you from the inside if the words pass your lips or are shaped by your hand.”
Though it was not meant for her, Hara felt the curse sear over her skin as though a branding iron had passed too close. The fae gathered around the room grimaced as they felt the discomfort of the curse enter their blood.
Adira turned her sorrowful gaze to Hara, and Hara tried to communicate her gratitude into the empty air between them. None of Armot’s sympathizers would sell her out to Corvus, Falk, or any other person who sought to gain from her abilities. The fae queen had safeguarded her secret.
It did not take long to assemble all the fae to move court. There was an entire passageway full of traverse tapestries, and Hara stared in open-mouthed wonder as they passed enormous stitched scenes of mountains, lush valleys, and other portalsto their keeps. The fae clustered around a tapestry depicting a serene ocean and grassy cliffs.
“Where are they going?” Hara asked Caelon.
“Our oceanside stronghold. It is the most remote of our courts and has not been used in a couple hundred years,” he said.
Hara reflected on how instantly the fae’s allegiance had changed. She remembered what Adira had said, that their people were much like a hive of bees with instinctual loyalty to their queen. The way she had cursed an entire room of her subjects by a simple command was a breathtaking piece of magic.
Hara glanced over her shoulder at Adira, who was surrounded by her attendants as they each waited to travel. How would it feel to be handed a crown and a kingdom so abruptly after twenty years of exile, and by such violent means? Even if she was called to it by her blood?
“I cannot imagine how she feels about all this,” said Hara.
“Remorse, of course, but we fae are not as sentimental as humans,” said Caelon.
Hara hesitated, not quite knowing how to ask, but then she found that her curiosity won out.
“What did Armot mean when she said Adira always wanted what was rightfully hers? Armot was the one who banished her twin and took the throne for herself.”
Caelon’s gray cheeks grew a bluish flush.
“Well. When Adira and Armot were assigned consorts, you could say that Armot had a preference for me. But Maunel’s family insisted their son was matched with Armot, and so Adira was paired with me instead.”
So it was jealousy over a mate that made Armot despise her sister so. Hara secretly thought she would have preferredCaelon over a toad husband as well, but she did not have a fae’s eye for beauty. Hara wondered if that was the true reason for Adira’s banishment. If Adira and Caelon were absent from court, Armot wouldn’t have to see them together.
“And the curse she gave . . . why did Adira not use that power to convince the fae that Corvus was a threat? She could have made them listen to her,” said Hara. She was desperately curious to understand the limits of the fae’s magic.
“She tried to use her authority, but her orders didn’t stick. It is quite rare to have two Rexinas; it isn’t natural. When they work in opposition to each other, their magic is not as effective. Usually one is killed, but thankfully, Adira had the sense to take her banishment without a fight,” said Caelon. “She is also hesitant to use her authority, which is why Armot was able to overpower her. We do not have many ethics when it comes to magic, but Adira was always unusual.”
There was a moment of quiet while Hara absorbed this.
“What I do not understand is how the knife took on a life of its own,” said Caelon pensively. “You did not throw it, so what happened?”
Hara bit her lip, but did not say anything. She was not sure what would happen to Odesssa if she told the truth, but she did not know if she was doing the right thing by protecting her secret. The fae would escape in time, so it was good that Adira was their new queen, but a part of her wondered if she was trying to find reasons to justify Armot’s murder. Her stomach turned with unease, and she felt a little disgusted with herself at the thought.
After Hara and Gideon had left the room behind the thrones, they’d waited as Adira questioned the remaining sorcerers. Odessa emerged unscathed with the rest of them, so she had obviously proved that she was a capable liar.
“I’m not certain,” said Hara. “One moment it was still, and the next it felt as though it was being tugged from my grip by an invisible hand.”
Caelon glanced at her, then looked away. “I’ve never seen a magical object behave in such a way. Especially one made of iron.”
Hara shook her head and replied truthfully, “Nor have I.”
Caelon sighed. “I suppose it does not matter. Adira is the Rexina now, and I trust her to stand up to Corvus.”
Hara found it rather baffling that he and the other fae seemed to feel no grief or more than a passing curiosity at the manner of Armot’s death. It appeared Caelon spoke truly when he said the fae had little sentimentality among them. He gave her a deep nod and went to stand beside his mate.
Hara found Gideon nearby, staring at a plate of cherries on a table that had appeared out of nowhere. She raised her hand to his cheek and turned his head to look at her, and he shook it slightly.
