Maeve rolled another blackberry between her fingers, apparently inspecting the fruit for blemishes. “Does he wish to surrender?”
Across the hall, Cuan’s eyes met hers, as though he’d overheard despite the distance. He jerked his head from side to side, just a fraction, the vines cutting into his mouth.
But there was no point in both of them getting killed. Tamsin turned back to Maeve, ignoring that mute denial. “Yes. He surrenders. I’m surrendering for him. Tell her to let him go!”
Maeve sucked juice from her fingers, one by one, holding her gaze the whole time.
“Interesting,” the sidhe queen murmured. Her eyes lit up, shining red, as she smiled. “But you cannot concede for your champion. And it is plain that he will die before admitting defeat. So what will you do now, I wonder?”
The sorceress motioned again, and the vines around Cuan tightened even further. Tamsin desperately cast around. Her gaze fell on the heaped fruit platter. She didn’t dare interfere in the duel directly, but…
“You said you wanted me to entertain you, Lady Maeve?” She grabbed a pair of ripe, squishy peaches. “Shall I show you an amusing game we have in the human world?”
Maeve’s dark eyebrows rose. “What in the seven realms are you intending to do with those, little human? Do you expect to save your champion’s life with juggling?”
“Nope. But since you all seem to have the social maturity of high schoolers...” Tamsin hefted the fruit. “Food fight!”
Before anyone could stop her, she hurled a peach at a high sidhe sitting further down the table. Even as it splattered from his shocked face in an explosion of juice, she was throwing the other peach.
Pandemonium broke out. She grabbed fistful after fistful of fruit, picking her targets at random. Shrieks of outrage split the air as high sidhe dove for cover.
Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the sorceress startle, distracted by the sudden noise. The glow around her hands flickered, just for an instant…but it was long enough.
Cuan burst free of the vines, exploding into his horse form. He thundered toward the sorceress, tail flying, eyes blazing with furious golden fire.
Tamsin had to trust that he could take it from there. She kept up her barrage of fruit, hurling plums and kiwis as fast as she could. Partly to keep the sorceress distracted…but mainly because it felt really good to smash stuff into all those snooty elf faces.
Why am I getting away with this?she wondered as she threw a banana like a boomerang. She risked a quick glance at Maeve, and found the high sidhe queen was sitting motionless in the midst of the chaos, crimson eyes fixed on her. The pair of guards at her side had summoned their swords—but one upraised finger from Maeve held them back.
A chill went down Tamsin’s spine. For once, Maeve didn’t wear an expression of languid amusement or ostentatious boredom. She looked…interested.
“No! Shining Ones, no! Please!”
Tamsin froze at the scream. The sorceress was flat on her butt, cowering and begging for mercy. Cuan crouched over her in wolf form, jaws clamped around her arms.
His lips wrinkled back in a snarl, revealing that those massive teeth were barely denting the sorceress’s pale skin. He wasn’t hurting her—but it would only take one short, sharp crunch, and the woman would never cast a spell again.
“I yield,” the sorceress said again, breathless with fear. “I yield.”
Tamsin sagged with relief. She lowered the melon she’d been holding poised above her head as Cuan released the woman and backed off.
“Well now.” Maeve flicked a speck of smashed pineapple away from her plate. “I must say, that was entertaining. And informative.”
Cuan shifted back to man form to bow politely to his defeated opponent. As he straightened, he seemed to notice the state of the unseelie court for the first time. He started, staring around at all the scowling faces and stained finery. By the time his gaze found Tamsin, his expression was a conflict of horror and hilarity.
She shrugged at him, mouthing sorry not sorry. His mouth twitched, as though he was struggling to contain laughter. Very solemnly, he bowed to her, far more deeply than he had to the sorceress.
“So you have bought each other one more day.” Maeve’s drawling tones jerked Tamsin’s attention back to the high sidhe queen. The woman leaned back in her throne, stroking a finger against her chin. “Though one wonders what you intend to do with it. Tell me, little human. Why do you delay the inevitable?”
Tamsin sat down again, breathing hard. “If you have to ask that, you really don’t know anything about humans. Generally, we’re not keen on having our souls sucked dry by psychic vampires.”
“Yet that is not your only possible fate, is it?” Maeve gestured at Cuan, who was now washing the blood from his face and hands in a basin held out by a short, wrinkled woman. “You have another option.”
She knows! How does she know?
Tamsin did her best to keep a poker face. “I don’t know what—”
“Do not play dumb with me,” Maeve interrupted, eyes narrowing a fraction. “My dear beast is many things, but a fool is not one of them. If I can deduce that you two are fated mates, then he must surely have recognized you at first sight. Indeed, it is the only explanation for his behavior. And he knows all our high sidhe customs and traditions, desperate as he is to be one of us. He has proposed that you form the mate bond, has he not?”