Chapter 15

I bolted upright in my tent to find Sylos staring down at me. He stood quietly, with an unreadable expression on his face.

I swiped a hand over my face, relieved that I'd only been dreaming, yet still troubled by its ending. Dreams were not dreamt in vain. They carried messages and they carried meaning. Even more so after the gypsy’s words. Lorelei was too deeply entrenched in my mind, and yet, I needed those memories of her to sustain me. I frowned. "What time is it?"

"Not yet dawn," he replied.

"What are you doing in here anyway?" I grumbled, pushing my hair from my face. "Females get invitations into my tent…I didn't invite any, and I most certainly did not invite you." I pointed to the pile in the corner. "Make yourself useful and toss me my shirt."

As I stood, Sylos scanned the tattooed emblems glowing in green light across my forearm and back. Marks that forever reminded him we were of very different stations.

His face pulled into a grimace. "As if your tent was one I'd want an invitation to." He threw me my shirt and stepped out of the tent, still talking. "But you were dreaming of her again. Calling out the girl's name in your sleep. I came in to wake you and keep us both from being found by the nearest troll or night hunter. You are welcome, by the way." His voice elevated.

I grunted my thanks as I dressed and exited the tent. It was dark still, and that was good. We had a long journey ahead of us, and it was best to head out under cover of darkness before we reached the plains of Eyomere. We now knew the path they'd traveled and where they were at the time of the spell. But Adrius would not keep them in one place for long. Without anyone to locate their next destination, I had to get as close to where they'd last been seen as possible, before their trail went cold again.

Sylos and I set out and managed to reach the first village before the flaming sun sank below the horizon. The village we encountered was bustling with life. Peasants, farmers, and the occasional Sylph, testing out her charms an anyone who would give her a second glance. Before Sylos could be that anyone, I tugged him into the nearest gaming house.

"Odd time for a round of darts," he muttered as we shuffled through the round doorway.

"I've had many dealings with the Dwarves. Anyone with inside knowledge of Lorelei and Adrius would spend their time here." I knew enough of those who dealt in underground favors to know that much would be true, even in these parts of the Nevermore.

I approached the Dwarf dealer taking bets on who would win the race…the one-legged fowl or the two-headed serpent.

"Excuse me. I’m seeking a girl who may have traveled through here."

"Ahh, aren't we all?" He slapped me on the shoulder and chuckled.

I slid back my hood, and his face fell.

"Well I'll be. A Faerie Lord, out here in these parts? Bin an odd week for sure of it."

A few gasps sounded in the dank room. From the far corner I heard a gruff voice half-whisper, "Pfft. He ain't the only royal I seen in these parts."

I handed the Dwarf a small sack of coin, giving him a dark smile. "You did not see me here. Understood?"

He nodded eagerly, scurrying away with more wealth than he would ever have come by in gambling wins, while I made my way to the small room at the back of the bar.

The air was thick with fear, stale bread, and foul odors I could not place. My emotions heightened at the thought of being so close to finding her, and things near me became coated in frost.

A stout, bearded Dwarf sat with his back to the wall, a Sylph squished onto his lap. Muttering into the jug of ale he held in one hand, the other hand was firmly wrapped around the girl.

Not bothering to silence my entry, my feet crunched through thin layers of ice with every footfall. The girl the oaf had been mauling looked relieved to see us break up their festivities. She scampered away into the night, brushing past me on her way to the door. My sights were fixed upon the one being who could tell me what I wanted to know.

"Ay," he protested. "That was my prize, she was. Won 'er fair an' square."

Giving Sylos a side glance, I approached the Dwarf. "You know the girl I am looking for," I said, taking in his stained clothing and foul stench.

He looked up at me and sneered. "I don't talk to Fey scum," he muttered, then spat on the ground next to my boot.

Sylos laughed. I, however, was in no mood for laughter. Millions of thoughts converged in my mind, but I shoved them aside to focus on the task at hand. He would give me the information I was seeking. Either I would pry it from his mind or from his dying lips, but either way I would have it.

Sylos leaned against the wall, as casually as if he had played this game more times than he could count. In truth we both had.

"Have you had the pleasure of meeting my friend here?" Sylos said. "He's no stranger to fights, although I must warm you, he is a stranger to losing them. That, in fact, has never happened in all the long years I've known him." He flashed a charming grin. "I have, however, seen the fragmented bodies of those too stupid to heed my warning, so cooperate, or not…the choice is yours." He shrugged lightly.

Showmanship. That was what Sylos did best. But if he could talk this one down from battle, it would be just one less stain against me in Lorelei's eyes. As if she were keeping some sort of tally. She had no idea of what I was doing—how many I cut down in my mission to find her. And yet, I felt beholden and accountable. It mattered, knowing she would not approve. So, in another unprecedented moment, I was grateful for Sylos's warning, and hopeful that our friend here took the warning to heart.

I fixed my icy glare on his shifty, red-rimmed eyes. "Where is the girl?" I moved toward him. "You know the one I mean. She travels with the Prince of Mythlandria."

He bolted, darting away from me, but didn't get very far. He was heading for the blade resting against the wall, but tripped over his own feet.

I shook my head. "Might want to lay off ale for breakfast. Not an asset to one's coordination." It was almost a shame he didn't quite make it. It would have been useful to spar a little before this ended. I so seldom got the chance lately.

The Dwarf stretched his fingers, desperately reaching for his sword.

Sylos raised his brows at me as he stepped on the Dwarf's fallen blade, preventing him from pulling it any closer. He glanced over at me. "Now be nice. It’s what she would want," Sylos teased.

I gnashed my teeth as I looped an arm around the Dwarf, who was now attempting to flee the room weaponless. I grabbed hold of him and shoved him against the wall, then pressed my blade to his jugular. "Now," I repeated in my most dulcet tones, "where is Lorelei?"

His eyes widened with fear, and I could tell in his drunken haze he was trying to work out the likelihood of being set free once he gave me the information I wanted.

"I can't tell you," he whispered, clearly having come up with the wrong answer. "Prince Adrius will have my head."

I pressed the blade a little closer. A trickle of blood seeped from a nick in his flesh. No wider than a hair, but enough to convince him I was a far more dangerous threat than the fugitive Prince. Stubby, trembling fingers reached up to the wound. "I'm bleeding," he cried.

Sylos scoffed. "That's about as gentle as it gets with an Unseelie Prince, mate. You'd better fess up or prepare to spill more of that pretty blood of yours all over this pretty little hide." He tapped his foot soundlessly against the snowy white fur pelt where his sword still rested.

"Talk, or what?" He spat. "You’ll kill me? I’m already dead if I tell you what I know."

"I don't want to harm you. I came only for answers. But if you insist on fighting me, it is a battle you will not win."

"You're evil. A demon as horrifying as they come. I know all about you and your battles. You cut innocents down and leave 'em for dead. Yer not foolin' anyone. I know you’ll kill me whether I talk or not."

A deep frown creased my brows, then I narrowed my eyes. "Everyone has demons, and since you are so convinced I am yours, I will be it. With pleasure." I let the tip of my blade freeze cold, crackling as with growing frost. It was purely for effect. I did not want to numb his fear, but amplify it.

He shuddered—for a moment I thought he might crack.

My voice dropped. "Are you willing to tell me what I need to know?"

"I'd rather die," he said, then spat at my feet. Again.

I shook my head. "So rude." He was stubborn, but not impenetrable. I pushed a little harder, as flurries gathered on his shoulders, before he gave in.

"Alright. Alright, I'll tell you what I know," he moaned. "Don't kill me."

"Don't make me ask again."

"She was spotted with the Mythlandrian Prince. Th-they traveled together. She has not been harmed last I heard."

His words fell like pebbles from his lips, splashing in the pool of his fear.

I leaned in close to him, filling his ear canal with cold. "Where?"

He was trembling now. I could smell his terror, and it was all I could do not to savor it. The deliciousness of fear—it had an exquisite flavor lost on lesser beings. Only the Fey can taste emotions. Fear had always been one of my favorites.

"They were heading to the southern parts of the Nevermore, through the Dunedin Plains on their way to the Oakenwylde. I sent 'em to my kin. Th-that’s all I know about it," he stammered. "I swear."

Sylos yawned, stretching an arm over his head. "Could you please just end him and be done with it? I'm getting hungry."

My hand relaxed, and the Dwarf fell to the ground, his body thudding against the earth. I lowered my sword, housing it safely in its sheath.

Sylos sucked in a slow gasp. "What are you doing? You know you can't keep him alive. No witnesses, remember?"

I glanced over at him, logging his surprise, but not really caring. Turning slowly, I walked away.

"Zanthiel. You can't just walk away. What are you doing?" he called after me.

"I'm walking away."

I heard the rasp of metal, the sharp cry of pain, and then silence.

My steps continued, and Sylos ran to catch up.

"Are you ill?"

He circled me once, then again, when I refused to acknowledge him. I knew his question and his answer for my behaviors would always be blamed on her. Perhaps he was right. Had she gotten so under my skin that it affected my every decision? I shook off the idea and drew my sword to clean it.

Sylos stomped his foot. "What exactly are you cleaning from that blade? It has not come in contact with anything but air lately.

My voice lowered. "Is that a bad thing? You wish I'd killed more beings? Is that it? Why, and to what end?"

He was taken aback. "To instill fear. To remind them loudly who you are and what you are capable of."

"My reputation speaks loudly enough for itself. So loud in fact, it’s become more of a hindrance."

"What is a hindrance is your affection for this girl. It has reached points beyond what is reasonable for a plain Halfling with so little—"

"Before you speak another word, I'd remind you that she is still engaged to me." I lifted my blade to inspect the gleam of metal, sighting down it at Sylos. "Choose your next words very carefully."

He eyed the blade and then exhaled a slow sigh. "I only meant to say, she is changing you."

"Yes. She is. And perhaps that is not such a terrible thing."

"Spoken like a being who is simply lost in love," he scoffed.

"Said the being who is simply lost."

"Better lost than a fool."

I stopped walking. Without turning I spoke, letting the full cold of winter chill my words. "I am still your Prince. Your primary allegiance is to me," I said in a lethal tone. "And if you ever go against my wishes again, it will be the last thing you do."

Sylos did not respond, and I continued walking, leaving him behind.

Rain fell hard outside the tavern, but turned to wet snow as I stepped outside.

For a long moment there was nothing.

Nothing, but the darkness of night…and my uncontrollable desire for a girl I should not want.