Page 128 of Atop the Faerie Throne
“Rose, slow down!” Bree calls, laughter in his voice as I weave between stairways and waterfalls, choosing the fastest path.
Jaro, Caed, and Lore are already there, but they back away as they catch sight of my approach.
Drystan has just managed to dismount his horse and pass over the reins to an unusually pale stable hand when I slam into him at full speed. I crush myself against his chest, sending every ounce of my relief and happiness and gratitude down the bond without any kind of restraint.
“What happened?” I demand. “Where did you go?”
Silence.
It’s not like him to hold back. I honestly expected him to start grouching at all of us the second he returned or at least make some barbed quip at Caed.
I turn my face up, searching for the answers in his eyes.
But they’re not there.
His hood is filled with the shadows that take the place of his head whenever he removes it, and the golden flames flicker lightly as he regards me. Instinctively, I search his saddle next but find the loose-woven bag tied to the leather empty.
“W-where’s your head?” I ask, my mouth fumbling the words.
He can’t reply. Like this, he can’t even hear me.
I’m probably nothing more than an aura shaped blob.
“Dragonfly,” Bree starts, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I think we ought to bring him inside and call for Kitarni.”
I shake my head, not at his suggestion, but in pure disbelief.
Slowly, the pieces line up.
He was in pain, and my mating bond to Caed returned shortly afterwards. Now my dullahan has misplaced his head, and his end of the bond isn’t vibrating with panic like it ought to be in this situation.
One of Drystan’s hands cups the side of my face, thumb caressing my cheek once, before prying me from his body and leaving me with Bree as he approaches Caed.
My Fomorian mate’s hands ball into fists, but he doesn’t back down as Drystan stops right in front of him and waits. Something silent passes between them, making my heart stutter, before Caed jerks his head down.
I’m not sure how much detail Drystan can perceive from auras, but he grabs Caed’s shoulder once in a strange gesture of solidarity, then releases him and turns away, striding into the palace as if he expects us all to follow.
A hiccough-laugh threatens to erupt at the familiar arrogance of the motion, but I seal my lips to contain the sound. If I let one emotion free, there’s a good chance the rest will follow, and none of the gathered fae need to watch their Nicnevin break down days before we’re due to fly into battle.
I’ve regained half a bond and lost half a mate.
“It’s the Goddess’s handiwork,”Kitarni decides, dropping Caed’s hand. “I sense her power over them both.”
I lean forward on Jaro’s lap, searching for Danu in my chest, hoping for some explanation or even a tiny bit of reassurance.
Nothing.
Danu is a dark river within me; calm on the surface, with the depths so completely obscured that I can’t tell what she’s thinking.
“As for her intention…” Kitarni hums as she paces a circle around them both in the centre of the throne room, trailing her twiggy fingers through the air around them. “A bargain was struck, but the terms…” She shakes her head, sending blossoms falling to the floor as she cradles her forehead like it pains her. “No. That is beyond my ability to discern.”
Lore appears on Drystan’s shoulders, waving his hands through the shadows there, only for the dullahan to toss him to the floor. He lands flat on his back with a grin, completely uncowed by my grumpy Guard’s folded arms and tapping foot.
“It seems obvious to me,” Caed grunts. “He asked for our mate bond back, and it cost him his head.”
Kitarni sighs, brushing petals from her robes as she steps away. “Drystan is far older than you and an experienced negotiator. The Goddess, too, is said to have passed on her ownlove of bargains to her children. If what was agreed was as simple as that, I would be very surprised.”
“There could be other terms that we’re unaware of,” I surmise, head falling into my hands as Jaro presses a kiss to his mark on my neck and rubs my upper arms soothingly.
