A Prince Among Killers - By J. B. Redmond Page 0,21

slid back to normal awareness, she muttered, “Why does he keep returning to that spot? We’ve examined that shrine hundreds of times.”

“There is nothing in that place but rocks and leftover prayers to the Goddess,” Blath agreed, as below them the boys began to lope southward, into the teeth of the Judgment Day madness and—Dari realized with a jolt—into the company of a visiting dynast lord they had yet to identify.

She spun to fetch her woolen robes, and began to dress herself as quickly as she could.

Blath was still at the window. “Perhaps,” she said, “Aron wants your attention and sympathy more than an understanding of reality. Maybe that’s why he spends himself in pursuit of phantoms at the Shrine.”

Dari pulled on the gray robe Stormbreaker had fashioned for her on their journey to the castle. “He’s just a sad boy, Blath.”

“He is almost a grown man,” she countered, turning the force of her gaze on Dari, who waved her off.

“He won’t even be sixteen until after the first of the year.” Dari reached for her summer boots and snagged one with two fingers.

“Which will make him a grown man, and only a bit more than a year younger than you.” Blath’s stare deepened, and Dari endeavored to keep her focus on her second boot.

When she didn’t respond, Blath moved a step closer and spoke even more quietly, yet forcefully. “He has the height of a man now. The thoughts of a man. He is passionate.” She paused a moment, then added, “And passingly handsome, as Fae go, which you might have noticed.”

Dari jammed her foot into her boot and straightened herself to face Blath. For reasons she couldn’t explain, her face felt hot, and she had an urge to let her own fangs grow—at least long enough to give Blath a moment’s hesitation before she continued her lecture.

“What are you saying?” Dari asked, hearing the edge in her voice.

Blath’s determined expression never shifted. “I am saying that it may be time to pass Aron’s training on to someone else.” She reached for Dari’s arm and let her fingers brush Dari’s elbow. “I’m saying—again—that it may be time to leave this place.”

Dari swallowed hard. The spot where Blath had touched her burned, as if Blath had imparted some absolute fact, some dire warning, and the universe had chosen to underscore her meaning.

A mix of anger, worry, and affection for Aron lurched through Dari’s consciousness, surprising her and confusing her at the same moment. Tears jumbled into her eyes, and more emotion rose to the surface—Kate, and the war, and her long absence from home. How utterly out of place she still felt in the lands of the Fae, and how hopeless she had become about finding her sister.

In that moment, she was closer to agreeing with Blath than ever before.

And in that moment, a knock sounded at her chamber door.

Dari’s senses and feelings were so raw and exposed that she knew immediately her callers were Stormbreaker and Windblown. She was struck by a mental image of both men standing outside the wooden door, Stormbreaker with his fist already raised, ready to knock again.

Blath kept up her searching stare, as if willing Dari to tell the men to go away, as if praying Dari might finally agree to depart. To flee Eyrie, and go back to the relative safety of her own people.

Stormbreaker knocked a second time.

The melancholy flood inside Dari slowed to a trickle faster than she imagined possible, and she looked away from Blath, to the smooth gray stone of the chamber wall. “Let them in,” she whispered, and tried not to let her tears fall when Blath’s face fell into the very picture of disappointment.

Without further comment, Blath complied, moving quickly to the chamber door and admitting Stormbreaker and Windblown. Both men wore their ceremonial robes, a richer, silkier gray than day-to-day garments, and both seemed barely able to contain their agitation.

“Lord Altar has come for an audience, and to witness Judgment Day, as is the right of any dynast lord.”

Stormbreaker held himself back for a moment, and Dari knew he was giving her time to absorb his words.

Lord Altar.

Lord Altar, here.

Why?

“Lord Baldric would like you to attend the meeting in his chambers,” Windblown finished, tugging at the chain around his neck. “He wants Aron present, too.”

Dari’s mouth came open. “That’s far too dangerous! What if Lord Altar grasps his identity and informs Lord Brailing of Aron’s whereabouts?”

Stormbreaker seemed ready for her objections and held up both hands.