made my way to the chair, aware once again of all eyes on me.
Yeah, I wasn’t made for this court thing—and this wasn’t even the whole court. This was just a few advisors and a couple allies.
“I feel rather overlooked,” a voice announced before I could sink into my chair.
I whirled toward the voice. In the time it took me to turn, everyone else in the room materialized weapons. Falin’s long daggers were in his hands as he stepped protectively in front of me. Dugan’s sword dripped shadows, as did the blade Nandin had produced. Lyell wielded what appeared to be a frozen halberd, Maeve held an icy whip, and Rianna had produced her magical spear. Even Brad produced a small knife from the folds of his cloak, though he stepped behind Nandin, letting the king shield him. I was apparently the only one stupid enough not to immediately grab my dagger. Totally not made for this Faerie court thing.
My gaze landed on the source of the voice. The man who’d spoken had propped himself against the far wall in a shadowy corner, one knee bent, arms crossed casually over his chest.
“Wow, check out that aggression. I think I’ll sit next to the planeweaver; she’s the only one not threatening to gut me just for speaking,” he said, flashing a very Cheshire cat–like smile. He tipped his head slightly in my direction, eyes gleaming with mischief.
“What are you doing here?” Nandin ground out the words, lowering but not vanishing his blade.
“A little nightmare told me you were searching for allies against light. I’m hurt no one called me,” the man said, not straightening from where he leaned against the wall. He pressed a hand against his chest, feigning injury from the slight of not being called for aid. Did he not care that most of the people in the room still held drawn weapons? “I’m here to join the good fight. To save all of Faerie.” That last bit almost sounded sarcastic.
Dugan scoffed under his breath, but his sword vanished. “You, fight?”
The man pushed off the wall and made an exaggerated grimace. “You mean like with weapons, and blood, and pain? No. You’re right. I better leave that to a brute like you,” he said, flashing a mocking and not quite friendly smile at Dugan. Then he grabbed the long staff beside him and strolled across the room.
Most of the fae in the room still had their weapons drawn, but he didn’t seem to care. He was in no particular hurry as he made his way across the space, his focus on where Falin and I stood. If it had been any other fae, I likely would have felt threatened and a little worried about his lack of concern for the dangerous situation he was willfully ignoring. But I knew this fae. Not well, certainly not enough to trust. But I found myself more curious than nervous about his presence. Falin hadn’t lowered his weapons, though, so clearly he didn’t feel the same. But I felt no need to go for my dagger. Not yet at least.
Lyell stepped forward, his halberd raised, moving to block the path to his king. The newcomer paused, then, looking around the other fae, his gaze found mine. He cocked an eyebrow over an eye lined with dark makeup. He expected me to intercede? There were two kings and a prince in this room. I was not the top authority here.
I studied him. As Dugan had implied, he certainly didn’t look like much of a fighter. He was just as tall as the shadow royals and Falin, but he wasn’t nearly as broad or muscular. He wore black leather, but not the fighting armor Nandin and Dugan wore; more of a punk goth style than anything that would protect him. That look was accentuated by the thick eyeliner and his short hair spiked around his face. He carried no visible weapons—not that that seemed to mean much in Faerie—but aside from some black chains dangling from his belt loops, he carried only a long staff. And not a fighting staff. More like a thin pole topped with an hourglass. Sand trickled steadily from the top globe of the hourglass into the bottom, a third having already fallen.
“What is your hourglass counting down to this time, Kyran?” I called out.
He flashed that Cheshire-like smile again, but Dugan visibly startled at my words, and Nandin turned to regard me with dark eyes.
“You know him?”
I nodded. “Self-declared ruler