Page 32 of The Rebel Seer

Rhys nods his mom’s way. “She sees them back in Frelsi. I’m not surprised she can see them here.”

The hounds circle the tree and the troll shrinks back. “Leave me alone, fecking bastards. Don’t let him look at me. Don’t let him send his evil eye.”

“They can’t hurt you,” I explain, moving beneath the big oak tree. I tilt my head up. “They’re curious.”

His head turns down, one big black eye taking me in. “I assure you they can hurt anything they want to. And so can the king.”

“I don’t think the king is here to hurt anyone.” I’m not sure how this troll knows Daniel Donovan, though I’m sure he came to Faery many times with his family. The king has a profoundly calm energy. Not that I haven’t seen him mad, but his base energy is good. The queen has this frenetic but lovely energy around her. A little like chaos, but the kind that works for good. Devinshea is the one with hard, purposeful energy.

The troll stares at me for a moment. “Why are you with him? This is not your world. Are you his captive? Is he taking seers now?”

“I’m no one’s captive. He’s my boyfriend’s father.” I’ve found simple replies are best with new “friends.”

I swear that dead troll paled. “Then I curse you, too, and all is lost.”

And then he’s gone.

He is a very dramatic troll.

I turn to the king. “Did you screw over some trolls the last time you were here, Your Highness?”

King Daniel looks confused. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because that was a dead troll who really doesn’t like you. And he curses me because I’m with you. How much magic do dead trolls have?” I ask. In all my time in Frelsi I only met witches with my best interests at heart. Rhys keeps me shielded when we’re in the field. When I’m allowed in the field. I don’t like the thought of being cursed by a troll. Dead humans don’t have a lot of magic, but I don’t know about the Fae who live in a sithien.

Devinshea grins as he puts a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “None at all, Shy, and I think the last time we were in Faery, Dan here did get into a row with some trolls. Apparently they remember.”

“They were cheating at cards,” the king says with a sigh. “I did call them out on it. I respect a con, but I’m not going to get taken by one.”

I stare up where the troll sat, the hounds rejoining us since their curiosity will obviously not be assuaged.

And then I feel it. I feel an invisible tug to my gut. Like I’ve been hooked but no one is reeling me in yet. That tug forces me to turn and look to the north. Past the rolling fields and forest. Away from the shining White Palace.

A chill creeps up my spine. Not because I’m afraid of those mountains in the distance. Because I want to be there. Because something waits for me there. Something wants me there, cries for me to come forth.

“Shy?” Rhys is at my side.

“What’s in those mountains?” I ask, trying to temper my growing anxiousness.

“Well, not a frost giant. That’s for sure.” Neil gestures the king’s way. “Daniel killed that motherfucker years back. It was sad. We killed a frost giant and all I got was a T-shirt.”

The queen’s eyes widen. “You could have gotten hexed by leprechauns if you had taken even a T-shirt. We made a deal with them. We got the Blood Stone and nothing else. Except apparently the trolls hate us now. That was so long ago I’m surprised anyone remembers.”

“The Fae never forget.” Devinshea is more sober now as he takes in the mountains I pointed out. “Those are the Shehy mountains. It’s the northernmost part of the sithein. They’re dangerous, as my goddess and Daniel discovered. I think I know what you’re feeling. There is a cave system, and it’s where the sluagh of our plane reside. We have quite a few unshriven dead.”

I shake my head. “That’s myth, Your Grace. Shriven, unshriven, it does not matter. The universe does not constrain a soul based on rituals. The soul itself decides whether to move on. No ritual can hold it back nor can a ritual force it into the light. The sluagh are simply Fae who choose to stay for whatever reason. I’ve found it’s almost always fear, though some stay in a bid to protect those they love. Yes, I believe that’s what I’m feeling.”

So many souls without light. Souls who choose to cloak themselves in shadow and feast on death itself.

“Well, we stay far from the north, then.” Rhys slides his hand against mine. “I want to bathe you in light and life, my goddess. Not expose you to all the death Faery offers.”

I follow him as we begin our walk to the palace. The trouble is I find that death very attractive.

And that scares me most of all.

The sun is beginning its long march to evening as we make it to the forest. I was told from here it’s only an hour or so into the village that surrounds the palace.

The queen has a lot of memories of Faery.

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