Page 100 of A Sword of Ice
“I know what I said. I said I would not be lied to or manipulated again.”
Clay raked his fingers through his hair, looking confused. “I know, but we barely made it out of one camp alive. Why would you want to go to another one?”
When Prince Valerio had told the others his plan to storm another iron camp, it hadn’t been met with the same acceptance as Iona had given it. She could understand after what they’d just gone through why they would be confused, but she hoped they would understand the prince’s reasoning.
“We have hid in the shadows for far too long,” Valerio said. “If we want to gain our lives back, we have to fight for it, because the humans will not hand it over lightly.” He made sure to meet everyone’s gaze to drive the point home, in their minds, hoping it would ingrain into their souls. “Even if we find the Elementals, there is no guarantee about what will happen after we do so. While we journey, our people still suffer. If there is a chance that I can end that suffering, I will. Or else how can I call myself a prince?”
He said that last part with an innate sense of sadness and honesty that was damn near crippling. His voice a wistful, tired tune that spread over Iona and made the hairs on her arms stand on end. They were the words of a leader. Someone worthy of a crown, even when he felt it was too big for his head, everyone else knew it was the perfect fit.
Clay let out a sigh, scrubbing his face with his palm. “How do we even know there are Fae there?”
“Because…” Valerio held out his hand and Iona placed the parchment in them. Valerio unrolled them and passed them off to Clay. “The ashes and bones were of Fae they’d ordered murdered only a few days ago.” He nodded at the contents in Clay’s hands as his cousin read the same quick scrawl of the common tongue Iona had only moments before. “They keep a detailed inventory of the Fae they find, kill, or transfer to other camps. The Fae with powers appeared to be kept alive the longest. The reason the camp was empty was because they transferred them to a bigger one just a few miles from here.”
Clay’s brows pulled together as his eyes scanned the detailed notes. Shula and Ryker peeked over at them from either side of the Fae, while Uric stood to the side, his arms crossed, glaring at the Seelie Prince.
“Look at the date,” Valerio whispered.
“They were transferred two days ago,” Clay concluded, looking up from the parchment. His bright eyes seemed to burn brighter. “This camp is a two-day journey from here…”
“Which means they would still be alive right now.”
“We need to hurry.” Clay rolled up the parchment, shoving it into the pocket of his jacket. “We don’t know how much longer the Fae have.”
Iona kept her smile to herself and turned to look at Ryker. But the healing Fae was staring at his mate, the two of them having a conversation without words.
Ryker finally turned to Valerio and grunted. “We have to help them.”
Iona could just make out the tightening of Shula’s jaw and the glow around the edges of her body, her fire pushing to get out. She let out a loose breath, and the scent of smoke and burning embers grew more prominent in the air.
Valerio took a step forward, giving a respectable distance in front of Shula, though his muscles tightened and bunched under the confines of his clothes. Like he was barely restraining himself from reaching out to her, touching her. Whether it be to keep things between them neutral or out of respect for Ryker, Iona couldn’t be sure.
“Shula, we have to do this. My people need us. All of us.”
She swallowed. “Not me. You don’t need me for that.”
“Why would you say that?” Valerio sounded genuinely confused, and Iona wanted to reach over and slap him against the back of his head.
Idiot Fae,she grumbled internally.
Shula scowled. “You think I’m a coward. That I am only good for running away.” Her voice came out a weak sound, too afraid to voice the same words she’d given to Iona in confidence before. For a moment, very brief, she looked defeated. Shoulders hunched, fire dimming to mere embers. But then her flickering gaze caught Iona’s, and a single glance between them seemed to remind Shula what, and who, she was. Her shoulders tossed back, her chin tilted, and the fire in her eyes blazed with a challenge, a dare.
For the Prince of Seelie to try and tell her how weak she was, just so she could prove him wrong.
He must have sensed it because a breathless chuckle escaped from his lips.
“I apologize if I ever gave you that impression. You are not weak, Shula Azzarh. You are the only one among us who can burn iron. We need you to help us.”
Shula didn’t preen at his praise but took it like it was something she deserved, and it was. Given too little, too late, yet she deserved it just the same.
“That’s not what you said before.”
“Things are different now.”
Shula scoffed, the sound holding no humor. “Different now because you want my help.”
“Shula…”
“Fuck’s sake!” Clay interrupted with impatience, throwing his hands up in the air. When he lowered them again, he was glaring at the prince. “Will you tell her therealreason you’ve been a dick to her? We don’t have time for you to argue. We need to make a decision.”
