Page 32 of The Savage Queen

Starn shook his head, pacing back and forth in their cell. “At the first opportunity, we flee from here and return to Tilren.”

“What of the faerie?” Killian asked, instinctively glancing at Dagfin.

“She’ll fare fine on her own.” Starn’s words inspired silence, nothing except the howling of the wind and the brush of evergreens swaying to interrupt the dense quiet.

“You can’t be serious,” Dagfin said at last. “You’d forsake your sister?”

“You were right, Fin. She hasn’t been my sister for some time, nor the Aisling you remember. Her actions aboard theStarlingare proof enough of that.”

Dagfin’s shoulders grew taut, anger rising in his gut. Starn had always been cut-throat, impatient, and frustrated when ignored. But Dagfin had never realized the darkness of Starn’s vices until it was channeled at Aisling.

“She’s changed, as we all have these past several years,” Dagfin said. “And she’s given us all a second chance when we scarcely deserved it.”

“It’s better for her if we part ways,” Iarbonel chimed, the kind curves of his face speaking both doubt and guilt.

Dagfin’s brow knit, understanding dawning.

“Your charade to help her expired more quickly than even I assumed it would,” he said bitterly. A sentiment that struck Iarbonel the hardest, his shoulders slumping forward in shame.

“It’s not personal.” Killian stepped beside Dagfin to peer outside the bars himself. “I met you each in Roktling at the behest of Nemed, paid to keep you all safe on the journey ahead. Continuing to accompany the faerie is counterproductive. She’s a beacon for the darkest shadows in the wood.”

Dagfin scowled. “How did Nemed know of our whereabouts?”

Immediately, Iarbonel averted his eyes, so it was Starn who spoke.

“I had Feradach impart a message to Nemed once we reached Roktling.”

Dagfin reeled, his temper rising with each new word.

“My father?”

Starn nodded his head. “Aye.”

“Did Feradach know the contents of your message?” Dagfin held his breath, praying a silent prayer to the Forge that his father hadn’t betrayed him or, at the very least, withheld information.

“I have no way of knowing but it’s possible. Regardless, I told Nemed our whereabouts and that’s when, instead of ordering us back to Tilren, he requested a favor: pursue the curse breaker in his stead.”

“And at that point in time, I was ordered to Roktling, paid in full,” Killian said.

“Of course, he believed Aisling would guide us directly to it, but it’s swiftly been made clear she’ll only slow us down. Especially since she’s made more enemies whilst away than just her own kind.” Starn crossed his arms. “Not to mention, she can’t be trusted. I was willing to entertain her until theStarling. Not anymore.”

Dagfin’s muscles ached from his anger, cording in his arms, back, and neck. Starn stood straight, doing his best to convince them all he was certain of his decision. But Dagfin saw past the veneer, through to the aching guilt and grief inherent within his choice. As though he mourned the memory of a sister he believed no longer existed, while his doubt that she may still be alive cannibalized him with guilt. And somehow, that made Starn’s crimes worse; he realized it was a cruel choice but made it regardless.

“All that being said, it’s best we return to Tilren our first opportunity. Annind won’t survive a trek to the tip of Lofgren’s Rise, and as it currently stands, nor will Fergus. If Aisling goes with us home, she’ll only seal their fate. Father will send his, as well as the other mortal sovereigns’ fleets, in our stead. Aislingnor any other Sidhe will stand a chance against four mortal armies.”

All eyes shifted, setting on the two youngest Neimedh brothers lying unconscious and blue on the stone floors.

“I won’t leave Aisling,” Dagfin said finally. More a vow than a statement.

“If the hopes of eventually bedding the faerie is what’s stopping you, then get it done with and the wisdom in Starn’s words will be made much clearer.” Killian leaned against the bars. “Although I warn you, the act may be pleasant, but the aftermath of such intimacy with either Seelie or Unseelie is only ever written in curses.”

Dagfin didn’t hesitate. He swung his fist at Killian, striking him in the jaw so hard, the sound ricocheted off the walls of the courtyard.

The otherFaerakslapped against the floor, rising with a hand rubbing his red jaw.

“Where was this strength against the murúch?” Killian kicked Dagfin in the chest, spinning on his dominant heel to return the punch in the jaw.

Dagfin dodged the kick but braced against the speed of the punch, blinking through the blinding pain searing through his temples and into his ears.

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