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DACRITH WAS AT A LOSS when the warriors returned without Asha. He found he wasn’t the only one who was dismayed. “Where is she?” Lord Nicolaia asked the lead soldier.
“She vanished into the forest, my lord,” he replied. “We followed her tracks, but they suddenly stopped. The Cerberus followed her to one of the largest trees then they both seemed to have disappeared.”
The spectators and participants had been told to leave and the rows of seats were now empty. Dacrith and the six advisors stood at the center of the field where they couldn’t be heard or spied upon.
“What do we do now?” Lady Mildra demanded. “The realm can’t be healed without the dryad girl. Someone has to hunt her down and drag her back.”
“Why don’t you go after her then?” Lod suggested sourly. “If you hadn’t noticed by now, my daughter is deadly when she’s in her hybrid form. I’m certainly not going to volunteer to find her.”
“None of us are going to force Asha to do anything,” Dacrith said firmly. “As your Prince and soon to be King, it is up to me to right this.”
“And how do you plan to do that, your highness?” Lord Nicolaia asked sardonically.
“I’ll think of something,” Dacrith replied. “For now, we should return to the palace and see how much damage has been done by the storm.” There was someone he wanted to talk to and he didn’t have any time to waste.
Taking the lead, he strode across the arena to the exit that would take him to the palace. Nothing had changed, he saw when he entered the building. The décor was unchanged and so were the courtiers who roamed the halls. He received sly looks and reluctant bows and curtseys. Ignoring them all, he saw most of the windows had been shattered by the blast of thunder. The brownies were hard at work using what was left of their magic to repair the damage.
“At least our servants haven’t completely lost their ability to be useful,” Lord Vanse said derisively.
Dacrith cut the scarlet haired courtier a look. He’d never liked any of the advisors, but that yellow-eyed fairy had always grated on his nerves. “I’ll be in my suite,” he advised them, then strode away before they could speak.
Taking the halls he still remembered after all this time, he found his old rooms. He could tell they’d remained unoccupied all the time that he’d been gone. It was like they’d been patiently waiting for him to return.
He shut the door, then locked it and placed his helmet on a sideboard. “Bindel,” he said without bothering to raise his voice. “I need to speak with you.”
“I’m busy,” the brownie replied in annoyance when she appeared beside his helmet. She was joined by the two brownies who had decided to become Asha’s servants. All three of them were staring at him accusingly.
“I’m sure you can spare a few minutes,” he said dryly.
“What do you want, princeling?” she asked, looking him up and down, not particularly impressed with what she saw.
“What did you mean when you said I said the wrong thing to Asha at the wrong time?”
“Men!” she said, throwing her hands in the air.
Olsa nodded in solidarity, but Unwin looked as bewildered as Dacrith felt. “Um, I’d like to know, too,” he said.
Heaving a sigh, the head brownie planted her hands on her hips and glared up at the warrior. “Asha had no idea you were Prince Sindarian’s son. She thought you were just a soldier who had been exiled long ago. When your true identity was revealed, she thought you’d duped her deliberately. To make it worse, you haughtily announced to her that you’ll now bond with her and you’ll be the King like she already belongs to you.”
“So?” he asked, even more confused now. “I will be her husband. It is inevitable.”
Olsa put a hand over her face and shook her head. “Would it have killed you to tell Asha you fought for her rather than just to become King?” she asked, dropping her hand to speak.
“Of course I fought for her,” he said indignantly. “I battled my way to the last man so I could win her hand.”
“That’s what you should have said!” Bindel said in triumph, pointing up at him. “But you had to go and ruin the moment and break the poor girl’s heart with your stupid arrogance.”
“I’m completely lost,” Unwin confessed, sharing another confused look with Dacrith.
“Asha isn’t like the Unseelie fairies,” Olsa explained with exaggerated patience. “She doesn’t plan her every move and word with strategy in mind. She thinks with her heart and her emotions are real, not fabricated.”
At Dacrith’s blank expression, Bindel lost her patience. “She loves you, you dolt! Or she loves the man she thought you were.”
“She loves the man who saved her from the ravenous boar,” Olsa added dreamily. “The man who shielded her from the storm and brigands and who treated her with courtesy and respect. That’s who she fell for.” Her expression became hard when she sneered at him. “Then she finds out you’re just like all the other fairies, except worse. You’re the son of the Dark Prince himself. You’re a duplicate of the evil man who ruined this land and twisted it to suit his gloomy soul.”
“I am not my father,” Dacrith ground out tightly.
“Are you not, ‘death’?” Bindel asked pointedly. “Your first thought when Asha told you about her destiny was to become the King.” He dropped his eyes, which was as good as admitting the truth out loud. “How are you worthier than Tartor, or Corvine when you’re exactly like them?” she asked in contempt.
Stung by the comparison, Dacrith refused to allow his anger to rise. It wasn’t their fault that he’d driven Asha away. He came to a realization and his wings flared in response to his sudden hope. “I need to prove to Asha that I care more about her than I do about being King,” he said.
The trio of brownies exchanged doubtful looks. “Do you care about her, your highness?” Unwin asked.
“Yes,” he said, then shook his head at the admission. “I hate the idea of her being out there in the forest, alone and frightened.”
“She won’t be alone if the Cerberus is with her,” Olsa said in a kinder tone. “Hexam will guard her until she returns.”
“Will she return?” he asked, afraid to hear the answer.
“Of course,” Bindel said briskly. “Young Asha knows the realm needs her. She won’t shirk her duty.” Looking him up and down again, her expression became speculative. “You mentioned you need to prove yourself to her,” she said. “Exactly what did you have in mind?”
“A quest,” he replied. The moment he mentioned the word, he felt a tingle in the back of his head that meant magic was involved. “I need to find the beings Asha cares about the most and rescue them from their exile.”
“Who are these beings?” Unwin asked in puzzlement. The dryad barely knew anyone in their realm. She hadn’t formed any ties to anyone in particular yet.
“Your kin,” the prince said and the bonds of his quest snapped around him.
“You’re going to discover where our families were taken and break them free?” Bindel asked in a hushed tone.
“That’s my plan,” he said with a firm nod. “If I can release them from their captivity, Asha will know how much she means to me.”
“It could work,” Olsa said. “She truly does care for us and she wants us to be free and to be able to choose whether to stay or go.”
“There’s only one problem,” Bindel pointed out. “No one knows where our kin are being held.”
“Six people know,” Dacrith corrected her. “We just need to get the advisors to confess the brownies’ whereabouts.”
“Leave that to me,” Bindel said with a crafty smile. “I think I may know a way to get one of them to talk.”
Dacrith had no idea what her plan was, but he was going to have to trust her. What other choice did he have? He’d declared his intentions to embark on this quest and now he was bound to fulfil it, or to die trying.
