Page 91 of A Dance With Fire
Shula wondered why they were so averse to Weylyn but brushed it off when she realized what the king had said.
“Your Majesty, I would like to go with them as well, please.” She tried to phrase it as respectfully as possible but feared it came out like a command.
The king shot her a look. “Looking to escape, Shula Azzarh?”
“No.” Her gaze darted up and down and she sighed, forcing herself to meet his eyes. “I will not run away, but I think if they are traveling to discover my own importance, then I have a right to go as well. I demand to know the truth about myself.”
Collective gasps rang out and Shula cringed. She hadn’t meant to snap out the last bit, but she was desperate and tired. Tired of being kept in the back like their chained slave. If they wouldn’t let her walk away, then fine. It didn’t matter right then, not when all of Illyk was looking for Elementals. But at least she had to know why it was happening. What did Emperor Laurel want with her? Why was she so important to him?
Shula refused to take no for an answer.
The king stared her down, giving her a glare that she was sure shriveled lesser men. Admittedly, it made her feel anxious, but she stood her ground, meeting him glare for glare until he dipped his head in a small nod.
“Fine. Take the Fire Dancer with you, but you stay with them at all times. No running. No escaping. Understood?”
Shula bit back her grin of triumph by bowing low. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Now go. Eat and rest, for you will leave tomorrow morning. The sooner we find out what we need to know, the better. The sooner we find out exactly what kind of weapon she is, the sooner we can take back our lands.” The king dismissed them with a clap of his palms together. “All of you get out! Leave my sight at once.”
It was all Shula needed to hear to rush from the room.
Tomorrow they set out on a mission that they deemed suicidal, deadly, dangerous. It didn’t matter what they called it or how they tried to frighten her.
Shula was just glad she’d finally get to know the truth.
32
Little People of the Wood
Fire crackled, the noise somehow louder than the soft revelry that was happening around her. Voices laughed, music played, bodies swayed. But Shula couldn’t bring herself to participate.
The last time she had, things had ended in disaster and there was no happiness in the situation at all.
Shula was going to the Feylands.
Her parents had rarely told her stories about the courts, because they hadn’t been born in pleasant times, so they hadn’t known what should have been their homelands.
Still, all the stories were handed down. Tales her grandparents had given her parents and that they in turn gifted Shula.
She used to imagine what it would be like. To be surrounded by the magic of Mana every day. To see magic unabashed and unrelenting.
It was dangerous to go there now. Even she’d heard the stories of how iron now eroded the soil, rendering what had once been a sanctuary for the Fae completely useless land.
A body curling around her legs snapped Shula out of her thoughts. She looked down to find Ryker’s cat rubbing against her, demanding attention. Shifting her goblet to one hand, she reached the other down and ran her fingers against the cat’s head.
“Hey, kitty,” she greeted. “You coming with us tomorrow?”
Shula startled at the voice that replied. “Yes. Familiars do not like being away from their Fae.”
She turned as Ryker helped himself to the empty seat beside her, the chair groaning under his heavy weight. He braced his forearms against his thick thighs and leaned forward, staring into the hearth fire.
Shula took a moment to study the left side of his face and that white eye facing her. Her eyes traced the pattern of scars against his skin like the roads on a map or jagged edges of puzzle pieces that fit together on this giant of a male.
Puzzle pieces she couldn’t seem to piece together herself.
“She’s your familiar?” She felt breathless, and as soon as the words left her lips, she already knew the answer. Of course, she was his familiar. There was a reason she was always perched on his shoulders.
“For a few years now.” He still didn’t take his eyes off the fire. A tankard was dwarfed between his massive hands.
