Page 21 of Forbidden Obsession
Vander is looking straight at me when he asks, “What did they tell you about the new registry? And why do they only want your kind? What about the rest of us?”
Trust Vander to want to be included in something, even if that something is shadier than a dark alleyway at midnight on the Samuin.
Because he’s watching me, so do the others. I hadn’t wanted to share my thoughts first, but it would be even more awkward to stay silent.
My tongue feels thick in my mouth. “I know only as much as you do.”
“But you were in the village during the pronouncement.” Vander pushes. “What did they say?”
I take a swig of my ale, trying to maintain a casual air, as if I hadn’t been fretting over the what-ifs around this subject for weeks. “Only what you’ve already heard from the countless others who were there. I have no new information, same as you.”
Does he think I attended some secret meeting of mixlings he wasn’t privy to? We don’t have those. And if we did, Vander would already know it. He’s got his nose in everything.
Lemon clears her throat. “Our father spoke with Anax Grippa Sunday last. He says the royal party was very tight-lipped about the whole thing. Strikes me as odd. They usually love to hear themselves talk.”
“Do you think it has to do with the humans stirring up trouble in the south?” asks Basil. He and Petzyl sit shoulder to shoulder, crossing their legs toward each other in a mirror image. If Basil thinks the humans have something to do with it, you can bet Petzyl does as well. I wouldn’t be surprised if it turns out they share the same brain.
Jindal leans in closer to me. “But those are only rumors.”
Vander is quick to shake his head. “Not rumors. There’s fighting in the southern region. My father has spoken with his cousin, who has business from Lemossin to Irondale. Violence has broken out in the streets. Humans attacking fae. And when the fae fought back, the humans were forced into hiding. The southernmost trade routes are compromised.”
My breath stalls in my throat. Jindal hooks our elbows and squeezes.
As much as I dislike Vander, his information is usually trustworthy. He comes from a long line of traveling merchants and, as such, has family scattered all around Luminia. They always seem to know what’s going on before the rest of us. No wonder he’s curious about the registry. He isn’t used to having unanswered questions.
I’m not the only one at a loss for words. Jaws are dropping left and right. My gaze shifts to Falen, who shifts uncomfortably in his spot next to Bird.
“Did anyone die?” asks Salah, her face stricken.
“I don’t know, though enough blood has been spilled to declare the area dangerous to travelers. So far, the trouble is contained in Irondale, but already some fae are migrating north. An influx arrived in Willowood just last week. Great for business. They left much of their belongings back home and had to buy all new things. They say staying wasn’t worth the risk. Too many humans in Irondale, not enough fae.”
So it’s true. It’s happening. An uprising, just like my grandfather had imagined. A wave of fear prickles the hair on my nape as the howl of the wind through the pines above us roars louder.
“But what has that got to do with the mixling registry?” Bird presses her lips to a worried thin line. What conversations have she and Falen had about this? Are they anything like what Jindal and I have been discussing?
Or very carefully not discussing.
Basil answers, “I don’t know anything for sure, but it makes sense the queen would want to shore up loyalty among the halfbre—er, mixlings. If it comes to fighting, it’s better to have them on our side than on the humans’.”
And there it is. The heart of the matter.
Will I be expected to choose sides? Is that what this is? Though it’s what I’ve feared since my nightmares began all those years ago, hearing it aloud makes the looming possibility all the more real.
I am both human and fae, yet I’m also neither, but more important than that, I don’t wish to fight.
Falen’s voice is gentle when he speaks. Our gazes meet over his words. “When will you go to Lemossin, Rahz? Shall we make the journey together?”
Jindal stiffens next to me. Perhaps it’s finally becoming real to him too. If I’m to make this trip, I’ll need to leave him for a time. We can’t both go. There’s too much to be done here in Jodpirn for us to leave together. The animals to care for, the crop to grow, the chores to be done. Not that his father would let him leave anyway. Had he really not thought of this part?
“I don’t know when.” In truth, I hoped not to go at all, but I don’t see an easy way out of it, not if the town expects it of me. “But I would welcome your company, yes.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Lemon blurts. “I mean, how will they even know if you don’t?”
“We’ll know,” says Vander. His tone holds the hint of a threat.
“So what? What do you care what Rahz and Falen do?” Lemon counters, and I love her all the more for saying the things I cannot.
“It’s a royal decree.” Vander’s ale sloshes in his mug as he gestures a little too enthusiastically for my liking. “To deny the order is to commit treason.”
