“Wouldn’t Cantillion take the lead, himself?” I said out loud.
“Possibly, if the kings agreed to follow him. But I would be better,” she said with passion, as if blurting out something she had held back from saying to anyone. “Cantillion thinks I’m still the small child sent to him a decade ago, as if I’d never grown up. He had respect for my father. I imagine he would have had my father lead the human armies while he lead the fae. But not me, a girl. He would not let me lead the human armies. The fae respect power. Also physical power. Have you noted how they make leaders out of the largest males? Even Queen Seselineia, if you don’t know, is six foot seven…She would never be queen otherwise. She’s the once in a blue moon queen…But now I’m rambling and boring you, Milla…I’m just so glad that I have you to talk to. You’re so sweet, listening so patiently to everything I ramble about! But, oh, how I wish my father could have overseen this. If this war happens, it’s bigger than anything any of us have seen in our lifetimes. Taramon has plunged the world into a sad state.”
A shushing voice made us both still.
It came from the window, from the cart beside ours. It was identical to ours, with the bars in the windows, so, another one of these fae prisoner chamber carts. It was equally dark, as well, no light, except for the faintest purple glow — likely the light binds of other prisoners.
A person in a hood pressed against the window, startling me. I had instinctively pushed Lyria partly behind me, leaning forward, to guard her. It wasn’t something I had to think to do, even though, supposedly, I was the designated bodyguard.
“Shhh,” the man said again. I saw nothing of his face, but his voice sounded confiding, if anything.
We shared glances with Lyria. Lyria put a finger across her lips and went to the window, pressing her face between the bars of our cart’s window.
“We’re listening,” Lyria whispered.
“Your Highness. There are friendly troops waiting not far from here.”
“What do you know? And who are you speaking for?”
“Best not name names, for your own sake, Your Highness,” the man muttered. He sounded wheezy, out of breath, and dazed. “But I know of your coronation, I know you are my queen, and that should tell you everything you need to know about my connections. And I swore to your father to protect the land with my life. That should tell you all you need to know about my trustworthiness.”
The man had a hood over his face — besides, it was dark enough to not see much, anyway, so I couldn’t tell for sure — but I thought his voice sounded somehow vaguely familiar.
“Yes. All right. Of course, my good man.” Lyria turned to me again in the dark, frantic. “Where?”
“A shrine by the crook close to Villemyre, small mountain village, do you know it?”
“Yes, I think…Maybe.”
“Find the town, Villemyre, and search the surroundings, if you’re not sure. Don’t go into town, just search for it, a prominent building, well visible.”
“Yes…Can you help us with that?”
“Apart from this, no,” the man said, sounding somehow defeated, weary. “I wish you luck, Your Highness.”
He moved away from the window, head bowed, shoulders drooping. He moved in small, jerking steps, and at first I thought it looked like an old man shuffling, but I realized it was because his legs were bound. He disappeared out of sight.
Lyria called after him, tentative, questioning, but he didn’t come back. Lyria let him be and turned to me.
“He was from the castle guard,” Lyria said quietly, so her voice wouldn’t carry over to the other cart. “A soldier from my father’s guard.”
“Oh, that’s incredible, that’s…How lucky we are. Can we trust him, you think?”
“Oh, by the stars, no, Milla, we can’t trust a soul right now. But what are the options?”
“If we only got out,” I said.
“Yes…But I have a good feeling about this, a gut feeling…” She huffed, smiling. “And you still look worried, sweetheart.” She reached out and snuggled close to me.
Chapter 18
The door of the cart next to ours was swinging open in the morning breeze, creaking and swaying slightly, as if it had been deliberately left open for us to gape at and wonder over.
“They’ve taken him away,” I said.
“Taken him away?” Lyria repeated my words. “Oh, Milla, that is sweet…Well, I hope that’s all it is. Who knows.”
“What do you mean? What else would it be?”
“I’m sorry, but let’s be realistic, maybe they found out about us talking,” Lyria said in a conflicting voice. “Maybe he was tortured to death, that’s the way of the fae…” Lyria added, frustrated, disgusted. “ I’m just tired, I shouldn’t be talking like this
“Don’t say that. I don’t want to think about things like that,” I said, hearing my voice come out sharp, and feeling my stomach twisting.
Lyria turned as if she had thought of something new. “Maybe they just moved him to another cart. It’s possible.”
“What if he was a spy? What if he was someone pretending to be a prisoner and lied to us about being a friend?”
“You know, I’ve thought about that quite a bit, and I don’t think so. Let’s face it, yes, the fae could have planted him there on purpose, but he sounded sincere. So I don’t think he lied to us or had any sort of agenda…We were lucky, that’s what I think. But now, do we assume he told the fae what he told us, if he was tortured?”
“I don’t know,” I said, my voice shaky. “Do we? Should we?”
“It’s impossible to know.” Lyria looked me over silently, calm and serious, and pulled me close to her. It was the first time she’d simply pulled me in like that. My heart raced, and the gentle softness of her clashed with the things we’d talked about like the sun starting to warm up the shores of an icy cold sea. “Milla, I want to ask you something. You can say no if you want. You don’t have to agree to it. Because fae magic is dangerous in the hands of people who’re not used to handling it. But I wonder if we could try spellcasting together? I don’t have much for power, now that they’ve clipped me with these stupid moonstone binds, but I can still make the shapes of the spells. You could put in the power? They had to have no idea how much power you can call up. Trust me, otherwise they would have put these same things on you.”
I stared at her, still, dozens of questions rushing to my mind at once, and worrisome scenarios starting to reel in my imagination. “Is that how it works?” I finally said.
The light clasps around my wrists weren’t hindering my magic. I’d tried already, after Lyria suggested it. My magic had to look like nothing to these fae. Working together, Lyria and I might actually work something out. It was worth trying.
The thing with the magic we spellcasters cast was, it didn’t materialize into actual material or tangible things like fae magic did. My spellcaster magic had all sorts of effects, but fae magic had this unique way of materializing. I was actually curious to se what we could do. I did love all things magic.