Page 130 of Owned By the Fae
‘We’re going to be all right,’ he murmurs, and I nod, hopeful for the first time in weeks.
Grey draws me out of Kal’s arms and into his own. ‘Gods, I was afraid we wouldn’t get away, that we were going to be killed during Fiana and Varrik’s fight.’
‘Do you think Varrik and Fiana survived?’ I ask.
‘I don’t know, but when we go back to the fold, I’m going to search for their corpses.’
‘You’re ... going back? All of you?’
Kal takes my face in his hands and nods. ‘I can tell the Harbinger wants to go back as well, doesn’t it?’
I nod. ‘It knows its purpose now. It was never to kill the way Varrik used it. It wants to help the fae, and it wants to helphumans as well. But it knows the risk to the babe. It will content itself to helping here.’
The males share a look. ‘What is it?’
‘We think it might be best if you stay out of sight with Isbeth when the Skilled begin coming through. The fae here know how important you are, but Varrik poisoned the others against you. It would be best to wait for the Council to explain things to them properly.’
The Harbinger doesn't like it, but it understands, and I nod. Some of the lower Skilled haven’t left the fold in years, and it’ll be hard enough for them to trust that they’re safe without my face being one of the first they see here.
‘I understand.’ I stand up. ‘Come on, or the Council will plan everything without us.’
Grey
All five membersof the fae Council are in their seats on the dais when we enter the main hall this time. Isbeth is in the middle, and she’s flanked by two other females on one side and two males on the other, one of which is Brakil.
Isbeth stands, and a hush spreads through the room. ‘The Council is convened, but it has been decided that this will be a closed discussion.’
She snaps her fingers, and although there are a few annoyed murmurs, the rest of the fae in the room file out, and the main doors are shut, leaving us alone with the five Council members.
‘The rest of the Council has been apprised of what's been happening. Varrik’s crimes are numerous, and … with what he did to the Harbinger …’
All of the Council members look angry, but I realize that none of them have any idea of what Varrik did to Lia herself; they only care that he stole it from its resting place. My lips curl into a sneer on her behalf. We’ve all vowed that we’ll never again allow anyone to treat her the way the fae of the fold did.
‘Varrik’s fold holds many of our brethren, and the work will begin in a few minutes to clear it before the fold itself is destroyed.’
‘What of Varrik?’ One of the other males asks.
‘If he’s alive,’ Isbeth murmurs, ‘he must die. He seeks to come here. He would take the Underhill by force and disband the council. Banishment has failed.’
‘We’ve heard of the changed fae Varrik keeps in his fold,’ a female says. ‘What are we to do with them? What if they hold his ideals? We could be letting in the very enemy we seek to keep out.’
Isbeth opens her hands. ‘It is a risk. But our birth numbers are still low, and there are three hundred of them, Gella. They will have to be watched closely, it’s true. But can we really let them die? A Harbinger, the first to set foot here in a thousand years, risked herself to help them. And, I’m told Varrik has some hold over their minds. When they begin to see things as they really are, I’m sure that most, if not all, will be assets to the Underhill.’
‘And, of course,’ Brakil adds, ‘they don’t have to remain here. The Underhill is not a prison. If they seek to leave, so be it.’
Low chatter breaks out among the Council members.
‘It’s true that our numbers are only just beginning to recover.’
‘There still aren't enough of us.’
‘They’re abominations.’
‘They’re our kin. Perhaps we can find a place for them here. This fold was made for us to be safe. They deserve to be hereas much as we do. They were but faelings when Varrik changed them. Some may even have come from the Underhill and will return with the others as Grenele has.’
I wince when I hear one of them say my full name, though I only ever recall being called Grey.
‘Bring these unfortunate kinfolk of ours here, by all means,’ another male pipes up, ‘but if Varrik does live, does it matter to us? His fold will be gone. His power destroyed.’
