Page 129 of Atop the Faerie Throne
“Undoubtedly,” Kitarni shrugs. “But whether they’re a help or hindrance, we may never know. The Goddess was clever in demanding his head. We have no way to communicate. I’m sure that was intentional.”
“He could still try,” Jaro protests. “He can use a pen without seeing, surely? It would just be messy.”
“Messy? He won’t be able to space the letters,” Bree says. “It will be an illegible squiggle at best.”
Silently, I have to agree. Fae script is written vertically, the spaces between the letters and the width and direction of each mark critical for comprehension.
“We could try interpretive dance!” Lore crows, jumping up in excitement before executing a series of moves that I’m not sure anyone in the realm can properly decode.
Ignoring him, Bree adds, “There are enchanted aids that would normally help fae with similar impairments, but they won’t work if his head isn’t here. He has no ears to hook them onto.”
“Fetch some paper,” I decide, because we have to try everything at least once. “And… What do we do when we sail to Fellgotha? He can’t fight like this.”
Lore shrugs as Kitarni passes him on her way to the door, then lunges without warning, a blur of silver in his hands.
Drystan doesn’t hesitate, ducking and delivering a savage punch to the redcap’s abdomen, which he dodges by blinking away and coming at the dullahan from behind.
When Drystan manages to dodge that as well, catching Lore by the throat and chucking him away with clear irritation, Caed snorts.
“I’d say he’s fine.”
Lore nods, picking himself up with a smirk. “Headless, but feisty.”
“And what about you?” Bree presses. “You’re not a Guard anymore.”
All the levity disappears from Caed’s face at once. “I willalwaysbe her Guard. Besides, I don’t see you making the same argument about all the other fae you’re taking with you. Prae’s going. She’s never been immortal, and she’s still acclimatising to fighting with two eyes.”
I sigh. I anticipated that would be his answer. We all go silent as Kitarni returns, paper and a pen in her hands. With a tiny smile of thanks, I slip from Jaro’s lap, taking them from her and leading Drystan towards a small side table.
His fingers skim over the page, learning its shape; then I dip the pen in the inkwell and pass it to him. His amusement and a thread of hope slides between us as he carefully tries to align both before him.
The first inky stroke is sure and steady down the centre of the page, creating the backbone of whatever word he’s trying to form.
But the next diagonal line doesn’t connect to it as it should. In fact, it’s almost as far as it can be without missing the page entirely. He pauses, disappointment echoing in answer to my own, then lowers the pen.
No. I refuse to let him give up that easily. Maybe it will help him align the letters if he has something to use as a guide? I take my index finger and place it helpfully at the bottom of his first line. I imagine, given my own experience with auras, that he canprobably make out our vague outlines. Or at least, that’s what I’m hoping.
Reluctantly, he tries again, using my digit as a reference.
I think it’s going well, at first. Then his hand jerks midway through the third line.
Still, he perseveres. In the end, he lowers the pen, and I can’t keep my dismay from shining through.
“Completely illegible,” Jaro huffs, glancing over my shoulder.
“It’s worse than I feared,” Kitarni murmurs. “Did you watch his hands? It was almost like the Goddess herself was messing with his attempts.”
“I think it says ‘Fellgotha,’” Bree muses. “But I could be wrong.”
It would be just like my dullahan to encourage us to focus on the matter at hand. He’s right, as always. We don’t have time to sit here and learn how to communicate with him. The ships are ready, the troops are waiting for us to depart. Prae’s messages from the front have been less than patient.
There’s a chance we can come up with something…
Drystan stops my thoughts as he tries to put the pen down, misjudges the position of the inkwell, and ends up dropping it onto the table with a splatter of ink.
Time, I remind myself forcefully.We just need time.Lots of things have happened in a short week.
What matters most is that we are all here, alive, and we can make it through this. Everything else will work itself out if we can just stop Elatha and call an end to this stupid war permanently.
