Page 162 of Kingdoms of Night

“I don’t want them,” Oberon said, focused only on Puck.

“Yes, you do! The werewolf—he ate the wyrm before drinkingallthe tea.”

Oberon raised an eyebrow. “Heatethe Lambton Wyrm?”

“What else was he supposed to do? It wouldn’t stay dead.” Idalno glared at them both as Feron gave a sheepish shrug.

Oberon scoffed. “Well, he could have impaled it through the skull with an iron spit and broken off its antlers. Or he could have burned it from the inside out. Or he could have poisoned it with some acidic venom. There aremanyoptions.”

“Well, we didn’t know that!” Idalno yelled. “It isn’t as if there was a plaque somewhere that said how to defeat it.”

“Right,” Feron agreed. “And it wasn’t my first option.”

The horns blasted again, louder this time. Feron blinked, then sagged against the wall. The pale-blue curtains fluttered in the increasing wind, but that sound seemed to be coming from everywhere at once and getting closer.

“No,” Oberon conceded. “But most warriors come to one of those options long before they considereatingthe beast. That combination should have been deadly.”

Puck tugged on his father’s sleeve again, talking even faster. “He would have been fine if he hadonlyeaten the wyrm. Or only drank the tea. Even if he did drink the entire dose. But the combination was toxic.”

“You said it wasn’t!” Idalno snapped.

Feron’s knees buckled; he nearly dropped to the stone floor.

She hefted him back and against one of the silk-cushioned benches. “Feron, what’s wrong?”

His pulse thrummed against her fingers, faster than before, but his breaths remained shallow.

Puck was still looking at his father. “This girl child made the antidote, though. An antidote I didn’t even know existed. She saved him! It was magic. And I know you forbid this. But they’re here, and they are a powerful match, Father. The most powerful I’ve ever made.”

“Puck.” A muscle in Oberon’s jaw twitched. “Don’t tell me that this is what I think it is. If you brought him here knowing thatshewants him, then all you’ve done is condemn this girl.”

Someone wanted Feron, some woman? Who?

“Isn’t it bad enough that you brought them here?” Oberon continued. “But to spite your mother—”

Another blast on the horn sounded, the thunderous hoofbeats, practically in the castle.

Puck sprang to Feron and grabbed his arm. “We have to go, and you have to trust me. Both of you hold onto each other.”

“He isn’t in any shape to run. We’ll have to hide him if we aren’t safe here,” Idalno cried. “Do you know what’s wrong with him?”

“A moment.” Puck snapped his fingers. He transformed their clothes from the lavish velvets and silks to simple black and gray garments. “It’ll be easier for you to blend in now.” He then adjusted his grip on Feron. “He’ll wake up soon enough. Just don’t let go.”

Puck half hauled Feron onto his shoulder. He was alarmingly strong, not even bowing under Feron’s weight as his boots dragged. Puck straightened, one arm wrapped around Feron’s back and the other gripping his arm. Idalno kept a tight grip on Feron’s hand.

Puck set his jaw as he looked at her, his expression grave. “Quickly now. We have to go. Before they get here!”

“Puck,” Oberon shouted, following them to the door.

“What is going on?” Idalno demanded. Even with Puck carrying Feron, she could scarcely keep up. Feron’s hand remained tight over hers. Even in this trance, he wasn’t letting go.

“Getting you two to safety. I can’t magic us all away when the Hunt is so close,” he said. “Not without risking an arm or a leg. More a problem for you than for me.”

“Puck!” Idalno cried out.

The thundering hoofbeats nearly drowned out her voice.

Feron protested as well, slurring the words as if he were waking from a deep sleep.

---