Carrick’s gaze comes to me. “Finley… would you mind getting—”
“Yes, I mind,” I reply curtly, cutting him off. I’m grateful to Deandra for what she’s done for me, but I’m not fetching her tea. Walking around to sit at Carrick’s left, directly across from Deandra, I plop down in a chair and kick my feet up on the table, crossing them at the ankle. Smiling sweetly at Carrick, I say, “I’ll be glad to ask Zaid to send down a service.”
I’m feeling rather good about myself when a muscle starts ticking in Carrick’s jaw, but his attention is caught when Deandra leans forward in her chair a bit. “Forget about tea. Just tell me what you need. I do have a life, you know.”
Carrick—whose eyes are still on me—slowly twists to look at the princess. “Your life isn’t going to be worth much in about a week.”
Deandra’s chin jerks in slightly. “Why not?”
“Because Kymaris has everything she needs to complete the ritual, including the Blood Stone, and unless we mount some type of massive opposition, the Earth is going to be overrun when she tears the veil down.”
Before Deandra can ask a question, or think to decline at this point, I ask Carrick, “What happened when you went to Hungary?”
He may still be pissed at me for rescuing Blain, but he’s not about to withhold information. Attention now back on me, he tells me exactly what happened.
“The power from the Blood Stone was immense. She catapulted Maddox and me through a wall, and I could tell she used a fraction of the power that stone was giving off.”
“She held back,” I murmur, pondering why she wouldn’t just go for the kill. Maybe because she knew they couldn’t be killed.
“She held back so she wouldn’t show you all her cards,” Deandra says, and yeah… that sounds right.
“Agreed,” Carrick says with a nod Deandra’s way. “She wanted to show us enough to perhaps discourage any opposition.”
“And you say Amell appeared and helped her?” I ask for clarification.
Carrick nods. “His loyalty is to her and not Zora. At least that’s my take on things.”
“Who is this Amell?” Deandra asks curiously, and I’m surprised she’s actually drawn into the conversation. I pretty much figured she’d tell us Kymaris was our problem, that she could live fine in a world overrun with Dark Fae, and why wouldn’t she? Her own power is immense.
I take the time to explain Amell and his relationship with Zora.
But that leads us to the real reason I’m sure Carrick brought Deandra here. It’s not just to recruit her, but to do so after she understands exactly who the enemy is.
“Your brother is involved with Kymaris,” Carrick says to Deandra, and we both watch her carefully.
Her shock is genuine, but it’s not effusive. “Kymaris? You’re kidding me?”
“For decades,” I explain. “They fell in love, and he used your mother’s staff to rip a small tear in the veil between Faere and the Underworld to visit her.”
Deandra grimaces. “Now that’s just gross.”
“He helped her with the changeling ritual,” Carrick continues. “Using your mother’s stone power to funnel light magic into Finley’s sister, Zora. Then Dark Fae priests twisted it dark.”
“So he knew all this time what Kymaris was planning on doing,” Deandra murmurs, more to herself than anything as her eyes go a little hazy. She’s clearly absorbing and considering the repercussions.
Her vision clears as she gives a hard look at Carrick. “If she’s successful, they could breach Faere with the Blood Stone.”
Carrick nods. She now understands this is more than just saving Earth and humans.
“That asshole,” she snarls, referencing her brother. “That’s treason against the throne.”
“I think he’s fully aware of that,” I say gently before telling her what I’d learned from the moment he’d kidnapped me until now.
The news is heavy, and the normally poised, overconfident Deandra slumps back in her chair. She stares blankly at the table for a few seconds before bringing her gaze first to Carrick, and then surprisingly to me where it stays.
“We can’t let Kymaris succeed. I will stand with you to help thwart the prophecy.”
“Thank you, Deandra,” I reply with a solemn nod. “Your help is most welcome.”
“There’s only one thing I request in return,” she grits out, pushing herself up so her spine is ramrod straight in the chair.
“What’s that?” I ask.
Her eyes gleam with wickedness, but not the type that would frighten me to any extent. She glances at Carrick, then back to me. “Pyke is mine.”
I almost ask her what she means, then it hits me.
She intends to kill her brother for his betrayal and perfidy.
“He’s yours,” I reply. I want to ask her how she’ll do it as their powers are matched, but I figure that’s just rude.
“We need more than just you,” Carrick says and though his voice is low and quiet, it packs a forceful punch. We both look his way, but it’s Deandra he’s addressing. “We need your mother, father, and all Light Fae who will join.”