to us. But then he stops, turning to me. “Before we go, you were saying you had figured out something back when we were talking to Nimeyah.”
My smile broadens as I nod. “Yeah… and actually, you sort of proved my theory with Deandra.”
“Which was?”
“I realized while you were dealing with Nimeyah that you’re the one with the power. I had thought it was her because you were so deferential to her the last time, but I realize you were playing a part. Today, you were being the real you, and she didn’t challenge you. Just as I know that you would have followed through on your threat to Deandra and her entire family if necessary.”
Carrick’s gaze holds mine.
“You’re the one who is most dangerous here in Faere. I suspect you’d give Kymaris a run for her money, too, but it’s my fight, not yours, because the gods would just command you to take her out.”
“I’ll be by your side. It’s both our fight.”
I give him another smile, and, to my surprise, he bends and kisses me.
An incredibly tender kiss, including a brush of my hair back to tuck behind my ear.
“Let’s go see Arwen,” he says, then holds his hand out once again.
I take it, and we move across Faere in the blink of an eye as Carrick pulls Arwen’s home toward us.
We step out onto a grassy area about twenty-five yards from Arwen’s domed hut. Her tripod cooking stand has a pot hanging from it, but there’s no fire underneath.
As we walk that way, I ask Carrick, “By the way… back at the castle, you asked Nimeyah not to say anything about what you told her, and she agreed to a binding. What does that mean?”
“It’s a spell only the gods and demi-gods can perform,” he advises me. “But when we have information to impart that we don’t want to be told to anyone else, we ask for a binding promise.”
“And it’s unbreakable?” I ask.
Carrick shoots me a sly look. “Oh, it’s totally breakable. But if Nimeyah tells anyone, then she’ll lose her tongue.”
I stop dead in my tracks, turning to Carrick. “You’re kidding?”
“Not kidding. Her tongue is mine if she breaks the promise and tells anyone.”
“Then why didn’t you do the same with Ozigeor?” I ask.
“Because it’s not for humans?”
“Why not?”
Carrick sighs with slight exasperation. “I don’t know the reasoning for everything. The gods created the spell. It was handed to the demi-gods. It’s only to be used on gods, demi-gods, fae, and daemons. While Ozigeor is immortal, he is still a human through and through.”
“Huh,” I huff, finding that fascinating.
“Although,” Carrick continues with an ominous tone but teasing in his eyes. “I have no qualms about cutting out a human’s tongue on my own if he divulged something I had asked him not to. In Ozigeor’s instance, it would be his head and balls.”
“You’re scary sometimes,” I say. “But it’s also effective and kind of hot.”
Carrick smirks and nods toward Arwen’s hut. “Let’s go visit Arwen and then get the hell out of here.”
We turn that way, walking around the tripod cooking pit, and stop at the front of her door. It’s a flap of hides, so you can’t quite knock.
“Arwen,” I call out, loud enough for her to hear. “It’s Finley and Carrick. We were in Faere and thought we’d just stop by for a quick visit.”
There’s no reply. There’s no clear movement inside the hut either that I can ascertain. Perhaps she’s sleeping, so I call out a bit louder. “Arwen… are you in there?”
Still no response, so I turn around and survey the surrounding landscape to see if she’s somehow off in the distance we can see. Nothing but fields, tree lines, and a blue pond several hundred yards away.
“Maybe she’s out visiting someone,” I murmur, bringing my gaze back to Carrick.
But his is pinned on the left side of the domed hut. With narrowed eyes, he walks around to examine it closer, and I follow.
Carrick focuses in on a large, blackish-gray stain down low on the hut that seems to have seeped through the taupe-colored hides that cover the outside. Squatting, Carrick peers at it closer, and my stomach rolls when he says, “It looks like dried blood.”
“Oh no,” I gasp and whirl away, intent on entering the hut. Carrick doesn’t try to stop me, but he’s close on my heels.
Flinging the leather hide door up and then over so it drops onto the side of the dome, I stoop and enter the