**ASH**
I meet with Klyesque and Dionie in the tower room while Daphne is fast asleep in my bed. As I suspected, Hayden stopped in the village to pay homage to the age-old tradition of prostitution and is currently entertaining himself with a couple of whores. He won’t be back until noon tomorrow, I’m sure.
At present, the three of us are staring at the ancient spell book on Daphne’s bed.
I know the book.
Of course, I know it.
However, it has not been seen in eighteen years.
“Isn’t that-”
“Yes,” I start, cutting off Klyesque as she reaches for it.
The words on the cover alone are enough to cause Klyesque's glamor to flicker and fizz out.
“How did she get it,” Dionie asks.
“Somebody left it for her,” I say, lifting it into the candlelight.
“Somebody?” Dionie startles, and I know what he is thinking.
“Daphne is not a witch my friend.” Then I smile. “Not in the conventional sense, anyhow.”
He rolls his veined, yellow eyes. “What the hell does that mean
“It means, he fancies her,” Klyesque answers and I scowl.
Dionie, is an ogre of old. One of the original lines. And as such, he spends his days in constant glamor. Contrary to popular belief, ogres were not always ugly. Oh no. In the beginning, they were the handsomest and most beautiful of the Fae and they possessed a great deal of high magic. But long ago, one of the Chai-ee, an energy being of the Southern temples, fell in love with the Ogre King Elthiore.
They could not be together because the Chai-ee are bodiless, dark beings, locked behind a witchcraft so old, time does not exist for them. This being whose name escapes me at the moment, desired him so completely that she possessed the body of his queen and forced her off the rooftop of their palace.
The drop was two thousand and something feet. Despite being an ogre, she was unable to heal from her injuries. In a fit of rage, Elthiore attempted to destroy the Chai-ee by dismantling their conduits of ornate power. The act permanently anchored them to the Southern continents, taking away their ability to possess tangible form ever again. The price was a curse that would taint all of the future bloodlines. Making them into grotesque, silver blooded creatures. Creatures that are doomed to scour the realm in reptilian likeness, forever without magic.
The few of the original line that are left, glamor themselves into cursed form to protect themselves from the jealousies of the tainted bloodlines. As the new bloodlines do not have magic, they are unable to detect the glamours of the old.
This book could ensure true form remain revealed.
It is the Book of Hidden Fae.
The ink of the title is written in Kelpie blood and glazed over with liquid gold. It is a book of incantations. This book in the wrong hands would mean the end to life as we know it.
This book in the right hands?
Well, that is something even I do not know.
“You say someone left it for her?” Dionie asks, his long blond hair and smooth peach skin only ever allowed to breathe while in the mortal realm. “How do you know it isn’t hers?”
“I don’t,” I state cautiously. “In actuality, I suppose it is now. But I know she didn’t bring it here. She cannot even read human English. Let alone Old Elvish.” I squint at the volume, searching the room for something to wrap it in. “No, my guess is whomever attacked her family tonight left it for her.”
Klyesque narrows her gaze at me. “Why for her? Who is she?”
I clench my jaw against her inquiry, as I have been wondering the same. “She is human. She is no one.”
“Wrong. She’s the key to your plan,” Dionie says, and my eyes shoot to him in warning. “A plan we’ve all been part of for eighteen years. Perhaps, one of us-”
“No,” I snap. “I won’t believe that. Not yet. For now, we hide it.” I wrap the infernal thing in a thick cloth I retrieve from the strong box at the foot of the bed.
The moment the title is covered, Klyesque's glamor molds back into place. Right now, she is disguised as a palace guard along with Dionie. The difference is, Klyesque's armor is naught but an illusion, while Dionie is wearing the standard that is *actually* from the armory. Stolen some nights ago when I first started having him spy on the king. He will be staying the night and guarding Daphne while Klyesque and I comb the woods for the missing Myrh girl.
I have already instructed Petra on the handling of the king upon his return. As if it will be necessary, Hadimere will not be wanting to approach Daphne with the news of her family’s demise for days. This I know, because once he does, there will be nothing holding her here. Whether he admits it or not, the king is afraid that she will decide to escape him. He would rather not have to execute her. She is much too new.
“Tell me, Klyesque,” I say to her as she strokes her glamoured brown beard. “What did you and Hadimere speak about that night?”
Klyesque grins, her faux black teeth causing me to flinch. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“I definitely would, which is why I asked.” I state, heading toward the tower room door, the two of them close behind.
“We didn’t talk. Not really.” She shrugs. “Why? Is he in love?”
I thought back to the noon meal and to when Hadimere demanded respect for my little peasant. With all of his former mistresses, he was possessive, certainly, but he didn’t give two damns if they were respected or not.
“Perhaps I underestimated your skills in the bedroom. His feelings for her are stronger than they should be, no doubt.” I hiss, clenching my jaw. The mere memory of their closeness that afternoon disturbs me.
“He was gentle with me,” Klyesque remarks, her eyes sparkling in the candlelight. She laughs while I frown. “Is he normally gentle with his toys?”
I shake my head, no.
“Well, then perhaps it is she, you underestimate. For her beauty is something special and raw.” Her smile falters, “I admit. Even I am drawn to it.”
I grimace at the accuracy of her statement. “It is more than her beauty. It is in her touch as well,” I say absently as we exit the tower. “And you can’t have her.” I whisper, “She belongs to the king.”
“Are you talking to me, or to yourself?” She giggles.
“Shut up,” I command.
We leave Dionie to wander about the halls near the kitchens and exit through the servant’s stairs along the northside of the palace. Once we are in the woods, we head for the river gate. If Daphne’s sister was taken then she most certainly would have crossed over there.
The moment we step upon the wet moss I can feel it. A trace of cold power and a bit of frost on the ground tells me what passed through here was Winter Fae.
“Ash, look,” Klyesque hisses. She points toward a small gray object on the ground.
It is old, a bit worn, and semi-frozen. It’s a bone comb. A common object used by humans to style their hair. Anyone could have left it out here. Humans use this river all the time. However, there is something special about this particular comb.
This one is stained with black dust.