“She needs a fire, some food, and sleep,” Toryn pointed out. “How about the three of us go search the caves? We’ll meet you back here after we do a full sweep.”
The Mist King frowned. “You really shouldn’t go without me.”
“We’ll be fine,” Alastair said, fiddling with one of his earrings. “Besides...I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to come. No offense meant, little dove.”
“None taken,” I muttered, though I did hate feeling useless.
“You’re the best one to stay with her in case more pookas attack,” Niamh pointed out. “Besides, we can forgo sleep for a night. Hopefully, we find the traveler by morning, and then we can be on our way to Itchen.”
The Mist King agreed, though he didn’t look too pleased by it. I wasn’t thrilled either. It meant being alone with him for hours, although hopefully I’d be asleep for most of it. If I could actually sleep after everything that had happened.
After they hauled the bodies of the pookas out into the mists and rolled the boulder back into place, the trio vanished into the shadows of the caves. Wordlessly, the Mist King snatched his cloak from the floor and draped it across my shoulders, his body tense, as if he expected me to argue again.
I was too cold to make the effort. Scowling, I buried myself in the soft material and perched on a rock, teeth still chattering. Within moments, he had a fire blazing in the small clearing left behind by the previous traveler. Sighing, he grabbed a fresh tunic from his sack, tugged it over his head, and sat beside me.
For a long moment, neither one of us said a word. I stared into the orange flames, wondering exactly how I’d ended up here. In a foreign realm with an enemy king, surrounded by monsters that wanted to kill me.
But I had always been surrounded by monsters. They’d been hidden inside a pretty package, that was all. The fae who ruled over us didn’t care about our lives. We were nothing but cattle to them.
Expendable objects to be beaten down and used.
Like my sister.
I closed my eyes as my gut twisted in pain.
“How many pookas are out there?” I finally asked, needing to talk about something—anything—to take my mind off Nellie.
“In the mountains?” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “It’s hard to say. Fewer than there were a century ago but more than I’d like.”
“I meant...out there. In the world. In the mists.” Where Val and Mother were.
“Hundreds.”
My chest burned, my thoughts turning back to those horrible, grotesque forms, their demented screams, the glowing eyes. I began to realize how much danger Val and Mother would face. Had probably already faced. And they didn’t have powerful fae to fight beside them.
“Is there anywhere that’s safe from them?”
“Caves can be, so long as they don’t see you go inside.”
“No, I don’t mean here. I mean out there, beyond these mountains, back in the rolling fields that used to be part of the Kingdom of Light. It’s where Mother and Val would be. Is there anywhere that’s safe?” My voice came out strained and more high-pitched than I’d intended, but I couldn’t stop thinking about my mother’s face. She may have once thought about joining the rebels, but she was no fighter. How could she survive if even one of those things attacked her?
He shifted slightly toward me, his strong jaw illuminated by the glow of the fire. “There are still cities and villages out there. Itchen is one of those places. Endir, too. They’d be safe inside the buildings if they made it there. The pookas like being in the mists. They’ll only go inside a place if they’re lured there.”
I grasped onto that tiny slice of hope and bottled it up to keep it safe. Everything I did now was for one thing. To find Mother and Val. If I didn’t have hope they were alive, I didn’t think I could keep moving.
“I won’t lie to you, Tessa,” he said quietly. “They’re in a lot of danger, and there’s more out there than pookas. I’m impressed by their bravery, though I am surprised they decided to risk it. Did they know you were going to escape Albyria?”
“They hoped I would,” I said in a soft whisper. “But they left before I did.”
“The bond of blood is powerful, even in humans. If I had the chance, I’d do whatever it took to save my mother.”
I glanced toward him, curious. The tale of the Mist King’s mother was ancient lore, passed down over hundreds of years. She had once ruled the Kingdom of Shadow, her raven hair and diamond eyes immortalized on a thousand paintings. Many believed her to be the most beautiful being to have ever lived. Songs were written about the gently falling snow that followed her, and the stars in the sky that had glowed brighter on the day of her birth.
Even King Oberon, who cared for little other than his own wealth, status, and power, had fallen in love with her. But that was where the tales diverged and myth and lore took over. There were a dozen different stories about what had happened after her fateful meeting with King Oberon.
But one thing was for certain.
She’d died not long after he’d proposed, after she had turned him down.