Page 68 of Sharpen Your Claws

“Have you heard of anything strange from Bloodbane? You’ve been in Faerie since Fearworn’s demise, haven’t you?” asked Nicholas.

Arden nodded. “I have and the red caps are right. I visited Bloodbane some time ago and it was discomforting, to say the least. Alvina hasn’t been seen at a revel in months.”

By William’s records, the disappearances began two months ago. The pieces were fitting together little by little, and he hated the outcome more than expected.

Nicholas turned his attention to Evera. “You truly know nothing of this?”

“If I had, I would have told you already,” she replied. “Knowing my mother, this is nothing good, and I’d want it over with it as swiftly as you.” Evera stepped ahead of the group. “We can’t afford any more stops. This ends before my mother causes harm. I’ll take us to Sorrows Well.”

Evera led the way to Bloodbane. William lagged at the back, his gaze sweeping over his brother. Henry ran his thumb over his fingers, pressing deep one after the other. He didn’t know Henry could do that earlier. His affinity had been for the wind, having summoned gales that threatened to pull trees from their roots. Lightning, however, had never occurred, certainly not a storm of that magnitude.

Then again, he had been gone for five years while his brother trained under the best magical minds of the kingdom. Since he returned, he had asked little about Henry’s work, either. Regardless, Henry made a foolish move, agreeing to battle the redcaps. If something happened, he wouldn’t have forgiven himself. Their parents would have been distraught and all the work he had done to ensure his family would never witness what he had would be for nothing.

“Are you going to ignore me during the entirety of our journey?” Henry asked.

William didn’t notice his brother slow down to walk by his side and he refused to answer.

Sighing, Henry settled his hands behind his back. “You are upset.”

“You never should have come,” he snarled between clenched teeth. He watched ahead of them, ensuring the fae meandered along, although they no doubt were listening in.

“You should have asked me to come along.”

He barked out a laugh. “Why would I do that? It’s dangerous—”

“And you need all the help you can get.” Henry stepped ahead of him, stopping William in his tracks. His brother wore a stern expression, hurt even, and it shut him up before he could begin. “I am a powerful mage, William, and that is not me being cocky.”

He knew that now better than anyone. Henry called forth a storm, changed the weather in less than a minute, and commanded power as threatening as lightning. He always thought Henry had an affinity for air magic. When they realized he had the Sight, it was because he could call forth the wind through the house to flutter papers or push their shoes down the hall in a race. William had always been impressed and especially envious in his youth. He liked his abilities well enough. They proved exceedingly useful, but Henry had a freedom about him that any would envy.

“I know my limits, and I have been to Faerie before. If I were not your brother, you would have asked for my help in an instance,” Henry added.

“But you are my brother and it is why you must understand why I do not want you here. If anything were to happen to you—”

“And what about you?” he challenged. “If anything happened to you, none of us would forgive ourselves, either. My life is not worth more than yours.”

“It is! You, Dad, Mom, everyone, none of you have any idea what I did, what I had to do to survive, and you may say it doesn’t matter, but it does. If you knew, you would know that I’m not the brother you want or deserve, that I’m not me anymore. I haven’t been for a long time.” He swerved around Henry to rejoin the group.

“William,” Henry called, but he didn’t want to listen. He didn’t want to risk saying more, either. He didn’t understand why he said anything, but it slipped out, and now Henry would pick at every word to piece together the meaning.

“Wait,” Henry tried with his hand on William’s wrist, but then Nicholas held up a hand. Everyone stopped, perturbed by the wide-eyed expression he wore.

“Nicholas.” William looked him up and down. “Is something wrong?”

“Do you hear anything?” Nicholas muttered while searching their surroundings.

“Nothing,” he muttered.

The forest fell silent when predators were near and one had found them, his silhouette dark beneath the trees.

“Father,” Nicholas whispered.

23

Nicholas

LeavescaughtinLaurent’santlers and tangled in his hair. He looked like a ghost of the moors, pale skinned and dead-eyed. His nimble fingers caught at his waist and lips quirked. “You’ve brought guests, Nicholas.”

“They will not be here long,” he replied skeptically.

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