The Cruel Prince (The Folk of t -(The Folk of the Air #1) - Holly Black Page 0,45

and the Roach and I look over at him.

Prince Dain is frowning over the letter, and suddenly I understand—he recognizes my copy of the handwriting. Nicasia’s mother, Queen Orlagh, must be the woman who obtained poison for Balekin. She wrote that she was repaying a debt, although knowing Nicasia, I would guess a little nastiness wouldn’t give her mother much pause. But the Queen of the Undersea’s kingdom is vast and mighty. It is hard to imagine what Balekin could have over her.

Dain hands my letter to the Roach. “So do you still believe he will use it before the coronation?”

The goblin’s nose quivers. “That’s the smart move. Once the crown is on your head, nothing’s going to get it off.”

Until that moment, I hadn’t been sure whom the poison was for. I open my mouth and then bite the side of my cheek to stop myself from saying something foolish. Of course it must be for Prince Dain. Whom else would Balekin need some special poison to kill? If he were going to put regular people to death, he’d probably use some kind of cheap, regular-person poison.

Dain seems to notice my surprise. “We have never gotten along, my brother and I. He has always been too ambitious for that. And yet I had hoped …” He waves his hand around, dismissing whatever he was about to say. “Poison may be a coward’s weapon, but it is an effective one.”

“What about Princess Elowyn?” I ask, and then wish I could take back the question. Poison for her, too, probably. Queen Orlagh must have a cartload of it.

This time, Dain doesn’t answer me.

“Maybe Balekin plans on marrying her,” the Roach says, surprising us both. At our expressions, he shrugs. “What? If he makes things too obvious, he’s going to be the next one to get a knife in the back. And he wouldn’t be the first member of the Gentry to wed a sister.”

“If he marries her,” Dain says, laughing for the first time in this conversation, “he’ll get a knife in the front.”

I had always thought of Elowyn as the gentle sister. Again, I am aware of how little I really know about the world I am trying to navigate.

“Come,” says the Roach, waving me to my feet. “It’s time you met the others.”

I cast a plaintive look in Dain’s direction. I don’t want to go with the Roach, whom I have just met and whom I am not at all sure I trust. Even I, who have grown up in the house of a redcap, fear goblins.

“Before you go.” Dain walks over until he’s standing directly in front of me. “I promised that none might compel you, save for me. I am afraid I am going to have to use that power. Jude Duarte, I forbid you from speaking aloud about your service to me. I forbid you from putting it into writing or into song. You will never tell anyone of the Roach. You will never tell anyone of any of my spies. You will never reveal their secrets, their meeting places, their safe houses. So long as I live, you will obey this.”

I am wearing my necklace of rowan berries, but they are no protection against the magic of the geas. This is no regular glamour, no simple sorcery.

The weight of the geas slams down on me, and I know that if I tried to speak, my mouth wouldn’t be able to form those forbidden words. I hate it. It’s an awful, out-of-control feeling. It makes me scramble around in my head, trying to imagine my way around his commandment, but I cannot.

I think of my first ride to Faerie and the sound of Taryn and Vivi wailing. I think of Madoc’s grim expression, jaw locked, doubtlessly unused to children, no less human ones. His ears must have been ringing. He must have wanted us to shut up. It’s hard to think anything good about Madoc in that moment, with our parents’ heartsblood on his hands. But I will say this for him—he never enchanted away our grief or took our voices. He never did any of the things that might have made the trip easier for him.

I try to convince myself that Prince Dain is only doing the smart thing, the necessary thing, in binding me. But it makes my skin crawl.

For a moment, I am unsure of my decision to serve him.

“Oh,” Dain says as I am about to leave. “One more thing. Do you