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DONNING THEIR NEW CLOAKS over their clothes, the door unlocked and swung open when Dacrith approached it. Both were dressed far more finely than they had been when they’d arrived, but few of the other patrons took notice of them. Fairies, goat-legged satyrs, a couple of yellow gnomes and other creatures were packed into the tavern. All were talking about the storm and their fading magic in hushed, worried voices.
They had a hurried breakfast, then stood to leave. Hexam let out a warning bark and Dacrith smoothly guided Asha towards a side exit rather than the main door. Seconds later, six Unseelie warriors entered. They were unmistakable in their black armor. Dacrith closed the door before any of the soldiers spotted him.
“What’s wrong?” Asha asked in alarm as he hurried her away from the inn.
“A contingent of warriors just arrived,” he told her.
“Shouldn’t I just hand myself over to them?” she asked, raising her voice above the howling wind.
He slanted her an incredulous look, remembering how naïve she was. “I would not recommend it, my lady. Word has spread about you. You can’t trust that they would simply escort you to the palace. They might attempt to claim you for themselves. All Unseelie fairies seek to better their standing, especially those who work for the Court.”
“But not you?” she pointed out skeptically. Not watching where she was going, she tripped over an uneven stone. He caught her by the elbow before she could fall.
“I am your guide and your protector,” he said, then released her. The Cerberus came bounding through the rain, causing him once again to reach for the sword that wasn’t there. “Thank you for the warning, my friend,” he said and thumped the beast on the side the way he liked best.
One of Hexam’s tongues licked him on the cheek while another snuffled at Asha’s new cloak, then sneezed. The third head kept watch for enemies that abounded in this land. Dacrith wiped the drool away and gave the beast a sardonic look.
Just as waterproof as their boar skin cloaks, their new outerwear kept them dry as they slogged through the downpour. Thunder still kept up a constant rumble, making the ground shake every now and then. Lightning flashed without surcease, targeting the tallest trees. The forests were magical and each death was like a blow to the other trees. Asha grieved with them, wishing there was something she could do to ease their pain and torment.
Fairies and other fae creatures occasionally appeared and passed them by. They received curious stares, but no one stopped to make conversation. Dacrith and Asha both sensed the beings coming long before they became visible. So did Hexam and he always became alert, even baring his teeth at some of them to warn them to keep their distance.
Sensing several of his kind up ahead, Dacrith slowed when the hound began to growl. Four male fairies ambled towards them. They also wore waterproof cloaks over their weapons. Each had a sword strapped around their waist. He could make out their pommels beneath their cloaks. While they appeared to be relaxed on the surface, Dacrith knew better. He’d had eons of battle practice and he knew when someone was poised to attack.
Drawing Asha behind him, he was ready for it when two of the men leaped at him. They erroneously believed they could overwhelm him and didn’t bother to reach for their weapons. Neither had been formally trained and Dacrith was a master with both the sword and hand-to-hand fighting. It was almost pathetically easy for him to render his opponents unconscious with blows to their heads.
Hexam growled menacingly at the other two men who were trying to sidle around him to get to Asha. He grew larger, then lunged at them, snapping at them both with two of his heads. Fleeing with shouts of terror, they vanished into the storm.
Asha had been on enough missions fighting monsters not to be alarmed. There hadn’t even been much bloodshed. Best of all, she hadn’t had to rely on her darker half to protect herself.
Dacrith stripped the unconscious fairies of their weapons and money, then they strode away before they could awaken. He handed Asha one of the swords and she strapped it around her waist with a nod of thanks. She’d told him she’d used a machete plenty of times and that it was basically like a sword. It was strange to think of so tiny a woman battling monsters, but it wasn’t unheard of. Fairy females often chose to become warriors, although it was less common in the Unseelie realm.
“What did they want?” Asha asked when the attackers were far behind them. None of the fairies had spoken before they’d attacked and they hadn’t been warriors.
“To rob us and to use you however they saw fit would be my guess,” Dacrith replied. He saw her shudder hard and Hexam moved to rub against her comfortingly. Shrunken down to his usual size, he’d returned shortly after causing the men to flee.
“Are all fairies here like them?” she asked in a low voice.
“I am afraid most are, my lady,” he replied. “When Prince Sindarian rebelled against his mother and father, darkness seeped into his heart. His pride, envy and ambition twisted him. He’d gathered a following while he’d planned to overthrow his parents. The rebels chose to follow him into his exile after the war. Each was as filled with greed as their ruler and they drew other likeminded fae to them. Their evil spread to the far ends of the realm when their numbers increased and their influence grew.”
“Is there no hope that they’ll ever become good again?” she asked in a desolate tone.
He was silent for a few moments before responding. “There is simply no way to know for certain. They have succumbed to the evil and it is doubtful they would want to amend their selfish ways now.”
Her shoulders slumped as she voiced the concern that was weighing her down. “I’m going to become like them, aren’t I? I’m already half-goblin and I turn evil when I’m threatened. It won’t be long before I end up like everyone else in this land.”
Hexam whined and butted his head into her shoulder. Stumbling sideways, she crashed into her escort. Dalrin her deftly and peered down at her from beneath his deep hood. Up close, his gray-gold eyes were mesmerizingly beautiful. “I hope not, my lady,” he replied. “It would be a shame if someone as pure as you became as debauched and wretched as the courtiers you will be ruling over.”
Asha had read enough of her friend, Pru Weaver’s, books to know what debauched meant. “Dryad royalty can’t sleep around,” she reminded him. “We only ever have one partner.”
“Indeed,” he said, one corner of his perfect mouth lifting before he released her arm. “The man who claims your heart will be very lucky.”
“I’ll be lucky if I can find someone who I’ll allow to touch me at all,” she told him, drawing her cloak around herself protectively. “I tend to rip men apart when they try.”
“You just haven’t found the right man yet,” he replied. “Besides, I’ve touched you on a number of occasions and you’ve yet to harm me.”
“You haven’t tried to touch me inappropriately,” she said glumly. “Believe me, you’d regret it for roughly three seconds before I turned you into a fairy pincushion.”
“That sounds rather unpleasant,” he conceded. “I’ll have to make sure my touch remains chaste then.” He slanted her another look that she couldn’t decipher, then turned his attention back to the black road.
