“What will you do if you figure out where she is?”
His sea-green eyes turn icy. “Whatever I have to do.”
My heart squeezes. I’ll keep doing what I must to free Jas, but if Sebastian can somehow free her before I’ve retrieved all three items, all the better. “Be careful,” I whisper. “I’ve heard that the king is cunning and can turn your own people against you. Watch your back.”
“Careful?” He cups my face in one big hand and smiles down on me. “Could Abriella Kincaid possibly care about the fate of a wicked faerie?”
“You’re not wicked,” I say. Then I back out of the room quickly because I do care. I care too much.
* * *
I wish I knew how to contact the king. I’ve spent most of the day alone in my room, and his goblin hasn’t shown up to take the mirror. Thinking that maybe the goblin can’t come into the castle, I tell my maids I want to take a walk.
Heading out to the castle grounds and through the gardens, I wander to the area where Mordeus’s goblin left me before.
I search. I pace. I lie on the grass and stare at the clouds, letting the setting sun warm my face.
He doesn’t come.
Chapter Sixteen
“WHO TAUGHT YOU TO HOLD a sword like that?” Jalek asks with a sneer.
“No one.” No matter how many times I adjust my grip on the bamboo training stick, I can’t mirror the way the Seelie rebel grasps his sword.
After three days of waiting around the Golden Palace for Mordeus’s goblin, Pretha insisted that I leave with her today. The goblin, she promised, would find me when he wanted to and not a moment sooner.
When I arrived at Finn’s house this morning, I was given a change of clothes—pants for once, thank the gods—brought to a training room in the basement, and told that I was going to learn how to physically defend myself. “I have never held a sword before today.”
Jalek’s face is grim as he surveys me. “We should have started with her physical training on her first day here,” he says, speaking to Pretha without taking his eyes off me. “Look at those arms. They’re little more than twigs. She couldn’t defend herself against a sprite.”
“I can hear you,” I snap.
“If she masters her power, she won’t need swords,” Pretha says, folding her arms across her chest.
“I have no intention of getting into a sword fight anyway,” I mutter.
Jalek studies my stance. “Shoulders back, chin up. Feet shoulder-width apart.” He taps my training stick with his sword, and I wobble to the side. “Keep your knees soft.”
“Pretha!”
We all spin toward the sound of her gasped name to see Finn and Tynan on the stairs. Finn’s face is pale and contorted with pain. He’s slouched sideways as Tynan holds him up with one arm.
Jalek drops his sword, and he and Pretha rush toward their prince, helping Tynan get him to a chair in the corner of the room.
“I found him collapsed at the top of the stairs,” Tynan says.
Finn is grasping his side, and his lids flutter like he’s struggling to hold on to consciousness.
“What happened?” Pretha asks, kneeling before him.
“I let my guard down,” Finn whispers.
“No shit,” Jalek barks. “What the hell were you doing out there? You have something that needs taking care of, you send one of us. You sure as fuck don’t go alone.”
“I was with Kane.” Finn’s pants are bloody, but it’s not until he leans back that I see the bright red blood coating his fingers.
“Kane?” Jalek barks. “Great. Our entire realm in the hands of two Unseelie idiots.”
“We got a lead,” Finn says through clenched teeth, “and none of you were available. I’m not going to sit on my ass until old age kills me.”
“What kind of creature did this to you?” Jalek asks. “Is there any chance the wound is poisoned?”
Finn shakes his head. “Sword—” he coughs out. “Kane and I were smuggling a group out of the queen’s northern camp. The sentinels posted around the perimeter were dressed like her royal guard, and we assumed they were Seelie. She’s never deigned to dress Wild Fae in her sacred colors before, but it appears the old hag has wised up.”
“One of ours did this?” Tynan asks, glancing toward Pretha.
Pretha sneers. “Dirty traitors.”
Tynan draws in a ragged breath. “Where is Kane?”
“Kane made it out with the group while I brought down the guards,” Finn says. “Dara and Luna are with him. They should be back in a few hours, after he gets the refugees through the portal.”
“So the bastard who did this is dead?” Jalek asks, those dark green eyes blazing.
“By my own sword,” Finn says.
Camps? Refugees? Traitor Wild Fae? “Why are Wild Fae more dangerous than Seelie guards?” I ask, understanding nothing.
They all ignore me. Pretha shoves Finn’s hands aside to study the wound. Her expression is a study in tenderness and gut-deep worry.