An Oath
DAPHNE
Sylvan's words bounce back and forth between my ears like stilted arrows that refuse to find purchase.
Sister... he called me sister. So he does know. He must.
But again, I recall Aquini's warning and decide silence will be the only confirmation he'll get just now.
"Why do you follow us?" I ask, casting a swift glance around at the trees and the way the breeze seems to have... stopped.
Sylvan's lips curl upward in wry amusement. "Why do you think? I was sent here. Not to follow, but to guard you."
Klyesque chuckles darkly, sheathing her sword before lifting herself back onto Delago's back. "Well, thanks but no thanks. I am her guard so you may leave now. Fuck off back to your mommy, I'm sure she's not far behind you anyhow." She throws me a pointed look and a chill rides down my spine. "We must go. We do not have time for this."
Sylvan snarls, "My mother does not know I am here. She believes I am answering a summons to meet with the Dragon Queen. A summons she wholeheartedly hid from my father in hopes of denying a request for aid. My mother is not who sends me."
"The Dragon Queen..." I reply with a gasp. "Celeste?"
He nods slowly. "Yes."
I hike an eyebrow, thinking of the Dragon's Song necklace that I wear around my neck. So, I pull it from the protection of my mail and swing it in front of me, watching him carefully when his eyes seal upon its dangle. "Do you know what this is?" I ask him.
He nods. "I do."
Tucking it back into my shirt, I cock my head at him and say, "Then you know it would take very little for me to call upon her to verify the validity of your claim."
He smirks. "I do. I also know that you wearing her call speaks of alliance that would have me turned on a spit for her soldiers, should I allow harm to fall upon the head of her Varoveittiel."
Varoveittiel.
Guarded One.
Again, the meaning of the strange word floats between my ears as if it has been there. As if it has always been there.
My surprise must show on my face because he says, "Did you not know the significance of such a charm?"
Swallowing thickly, I rip my eyes away from his, scanning the sudden stillness of the trees and the quiet hush that seems to fall over the woods. It is as if the trees are listening... it is as if they are spying.
Tension rides along my back and Trielle's flame burns a bit brighter, a bit hotter. She too, senes the swift change in the prickly silence of the air. "We must go," I whisper, tugging on Trielle's mane so that she turns in a careful circle and before stomping one hoof toward Sylvan's mount. "Someone is watching," I whisper and both Klyesque and Sylvan draw their swords.
Klyesque growls at him, "Who did you bring with you?"
He shakes his head, biting out his next words quietly, "Not me. You ride along a cursed path. One enchanted by the false one's Gimmuk to gather the musings of travelers."
"Gimmuk?" I parrot the word, attempting to draw an image or inherent memory of the creature. I fail.
"A listener troll," Klyesque states. "Birthed of the Echoing Deep, a twisted labyrinth of gnarled woods and cave like structures to the south of the keep."
"You must not cloak yourself now, Daphne," Sylvan whispers, his eyes scanning the shadows and boughs. "For the trees will surely see now that they are listening. Instead, allow us to ride in shadow. Before the false one returns home."
"Returns?" Klyesque hisses, keeping her voice so low it is but a mercy of wind. "You mean he is-"
"I intercepted the messenger bird that came for my mother before I left home," he breathes, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "It was from the Lands of Winter. A summons to the war table the frigid bitch has been long entertaining. The false one rode north hours ago." He holds my gaze, drawing his mount ever closer to murmur in low breath, "I know you do not trust me, but we have not the time for me to state my case. But I swear an oath to you now, Daphne, daughter of shadow and hidden fae, my heart beats with yours, my sword strikes with our father's arm, and I will serve you true from now and beyond my dying breath. It is my vow to you, do you accept it?"
My breath catches as my palm begins to burn with heat and Sylvan reaches forward a hand to seal his fealty. A quick glance at Klyesque reveals her smling at him and sheathing her sword with a nod.
Ash's warning of oaths and vows flits past my ears, but I ignore it as I absorb Sylvan's words.
And...
...I take his hand.