Road To Winter (Fae's Captive #2)(24)

“Why not tell me about this?” Gareth is still a thundercloud.

“Because you would have said no.” Phin downs his drink and pours another.

“You’re damn right I would have said no!” Gareth is close to bellowing. “You put our truce with the summer realm in danger by freeing their changelings!”

“But it’s the right thing to do, old friend.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “You know it is.”

“Maybe it is, but strategically—”

“Don’t think about strategy. Think about how you felt when you saw Beth in irons.”

“Well, that’s—” He shakes his head. “That’s different.”

“Because you like me so much, right?” Beth grins and drinks her whiskey as if it were water.

Gareth’s bluster dies a bit as he sputters out a vague denial that ends with “damn females” and a chug from one of the bottles.

Under the table, Taylor takes my hand. “You’ve been freeing changelings?”

“Technically, Phin has.” I grab my drink and raise it. “To Phin.”

Gareth grumbles but lifts his bottle. “This isn’t over. We are going to discuss this, Leander.”

“Let’s do it on the road.” I can feel the townspeople scurrying around just outside of our presence. “We’ve attracted enough attention. Phin, keep the work going and save as many as you can. I’ll get word to you once it’s time to return to High Mountain.”

“One more thing before we part.” Phin levels his gaze at Taylor.

A sharp tingle spikes along the back of my neck, the feral fae taking issue with Phin’s direct stare.

“Why are you taking these changelings to High Mountain?”

“That’s not your concern.” Gareth rises.

I stand and offer Taylor my hand. She takes it and rises beside me.

Phin’s eyes open wide, his countenance puzzled as he tries to piece together why I would be so familiar with a changeling. “Is there a reason to hope? Is the curse finally…” He rises so fast his chair falls over. “Your mate. This changeling is—”

“Not another word, Phin.” Gareth peers around at the walls.

“My spell has muted our talk, but we can’t be too careful.” I put my arm around Taylor, and to my never-ending pleasure, she leans into me.

Phin smiles, and it takes such a weight from him. “This news is—I can’t begin to describe it.” He strides to us, pulls out his blade, and kneels before Taylor, his oath pouring out of him as he bows his head. My most trusted warriors never disappoint me, and their unerring loyalty is worth more to me than any riches the summer realm can boast of.

“Bladanon thronin.” She says the words without hesitation and with a quiet strength that runs through her from head to toe. Though she doesn’t know it yet, she will be a formidable queen, one I will always be honored to call my mate.





10





Taylor





The sky is so huge, pounding down to the ground in shades of deep blue, and a crimson dust devil twirls off in the distance.

“Does anyone live out here?” I pull the brim of my hat down low.

Leander shades his eyes. “These lands are home to the Vundi, a nomadic band of lesser fae. I’ve heard tales of a vast network beneath the surface of the plains, roads of iron and halls of stone, a Vundi community, but I’ve never seen it.”

“Doesn’t exist.” Gareth leads his horse down the right side of the narrow, red road. “Someone would have seen it by now, come back and told us. Besides, the Vundi are violent and territorial. They don’t have what it takes to build some sort of vast underground cavern like that.”

“Sounds like the Mines of Moria.”

“The mines?” Gareth points to his left across the Red Plains. “Those are far away to the south.”

“No.” I smile at my tidbit of human knowledge—even if it’s fiction. “The Mines of Moria are in a book. Well, I didn’t read the books, but I saw the movies. It’s this huge underground place, up under a mountain, and they have enormous halls and rooms and an entire city. It’s fancy and has dwarves.”

“Hmm.” Leander blows on my neck again. “Sounds somewhat like the caves of the Wyvern Range. They’re a set of mountains along the winter realm’s northern border. I’ve been beneath Caron’s Cap, the tallest of the peaks, but I can assure you that dark, dank place is nothing like what you’ve described.”

“Sounds scary.” I turn back to look at him.

“We have no reason to venture there.” His grip tightens on me almost imperceptibly. “You will find safety at High Mountain and have no need of travelling farther.”

“What’s at High Mountain? A city? Or, like, a big castle?”

Leander laughs. “It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen. Stone walls that no spell can touch, high turrets flying the Gladion flag, and a keep that has never been breached. It was built eons ago and still stands as proud as it did then. A city, Cold Comfort, rests at the base of the mountain. It’s protected from the vicious winds and the harsh bite of the cold that dances along the peaks.”