That told me right there without even asking that she was a daemon with a dark aura, taking after her parent. Any daemon with a light aura would never have been a party to the murdering of humans that was occurring there.
“And this daemon just spilled the beans on where Kymaris is?” Carrick asks.
But before Boral can answer, Maddox asks, “Why would a lowly daemon know where Kymaris is?”
Meaning… can we even trust this information.
Boral first looks to Carrick to answer his question. “No, this daemon did not just spill the beans. It took some work to get the information out of her.”
My stomach rolls, because I can only imagine the type of work Boral had to do and I’m sure it involved plenty of torture. But even though the thought sickens me physically just a bit, it doesn’t offend my morals. This is war, and any evil creature that sides with Kymaris has a death sentence over their head as far as I’m concerned. We’re too close to the ritual to have a lax code of conduct.
Boral turns to Maddox. “And to answer your question, this daemon is incredibly close to her Dark Fae parent so she knows insider information. In fact, Kymaris has called all the Dark Fae who will participate in the ritual to her side. They are all banding together until it’s time for the ritual to start.”
“I’m assuming this daemon is dead,” Carrick asks. “Because at this point, Kymaris still doesn’t know you’re working on our side.”
Without an ounce of shame or regret in his expression, Boral shakes his head. “I couldn’t let her live since I’d be outed as working with you.”
My eyes cut to Zaid, who is watching his dad with an inscrutable expression. However, it’s not the usual disdain, disbelief, and hatred he bears for the man. It’s almost as if he’s seeing him in a different light but isn’t quite sure what to make of it.
Yes, it’s horrible Boral killed to get information, but it was a necessity. And I know Zaid knows that.
Perhaps he’s wondering just how much his father liked doing it, since that’s his nature as a Ravager Dark Fae. I don’t even want to think about that.
“Where is she?” Carrick asks, turning the attention back to what’s important.
“Hungary,” he replies. “Holed up in a villa in a small village on Lake Balaton, which is in the western part of the country.”
“Is it where I was taken?” I ask.
Boral shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Sounds like it’s a pretty modern piece of property so a dungeon in the basement is unlikely.”
“You have an exact location?” Maddox asks.
“I do,” he replies and it goes silent around the table as all mull the fact that we know where Kymaris is.
Carrick breaks the quiet. “We need to make a move on her. Take her down now.”
“I agree,” I reply. “I’d prefer to get this over with sooner rather than later.”
“You’re not going,” Carrick replies, and I feel like I’ve been slapped in the face that he would dare think to order me to stay out of this.
“Excuse me?” I say with high offense. “I’m the one who is supposed to take her out.”
“Maybe,” Carrick muses, then amends. “Probably. But I’d like to test the theory that maybe I can do it on your behalf. I’m the one the gods picked to help you. Maybe fate will allow me to destroy her and save you the burden.”
That actually makes sense. We’ve never quite looked past the prophecy that said I’d thwart it. Maybe I can pick champions to do my dirty work?
Just as I’m about to admit that his idea has some merit, I go cold all over. I also remember Arwen’s prediction that I would bear great sacrifice.
What if me letting Carrick do this on my behalf is my sacrifice?
What if I lost him to Kymaris?
“No,” I exclaim, shaking my head hard. “You could die. That would be my sacrifice. Not going to let you do that.”
“I can’t die,” Carrick says gently, his expression soft with the knowledge that my fears are born out of love.
“Oh yeah?” I snarl. “Tell that to Lucien.”
Carrick doesn’t let that affect him, his gaze remaining locked onto mine with resolution. “I won’t be going alone. I’ll take Maddox, and that will be sufficient might to take her down.”
“She has an army of Dark Fae at her disposal.” I throw my arms out wide in frustration, almost popping Zora, who has been quietly taking all of this in, in the face. “And they all have powers.”
Carrick inclines his head in acknowledgment, even though the army part is a bit exaggerated since she only has eleven ritual fae that we know about with the twelfth coming from the Underworld at some point. “If it makes you feel better, I can ask Titus to join us?”