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“Tell him to remain in place,” I say to the pixie. “I’m on my way.”
First, I need to find Kenisius and Viveka.
A short while later, the three of us make it through the forest. I instruct Kenisius and Viveka to stay in their animi forms, hidden away in the bushes. With me nearby, the forest won’t dare touch them.
I trudge through the clearing toward the Gleam. It’s no more than a translucent shimmer in the air. A ripple in space and time where two realms converge.
How unfortunate that it leads to the humans of all beings.
And that it’s on my property.
“He’s over here,” the pixie squeaks out. Its wings beat tirelessly behind its tiny body, as it flits in and out of the Gleam, disappearing and reappearing. “Over here!”
“Is he alone?”
“Yes!”
I scan the perimeter, wondering what his angle is. The humans are not to be trusted.
“Have him enter.”
The pixie hums in response and flits through the Gleam once more. I don’t expect the messenger to agree—normally it’s the idiot soldiers and spies crossing through, not a mere errand boy—but a moment later I’m left surprised.
A boy about Alessia’s age, only a few years younger than me, steps through.
His skin is a burnished brown, his hair tight and curly to his scalp. With wide eyes and shaky hands, he stares at me.
“You requested a meeting?” I drawl.
“Y—yes.”
I can practically smell the terror radiating off of him. A whisper of wind works its way through the trees, as if they, too, can smell it.
Gritting my teeth, I quickly wonder if this is a waste of time.
“Get on with it, then.”
He clears his throat, eyes zeroing in on my face. “You’re the one who—mutilates them?”
“You’re the one who finds them?” I counter.
Neither of us says anything further for a moment. Clearly he knows—or thinks he knows—what I’m capable of. And I realize he can stomach much more than he might be letting on.
“I don’t suppose that’s what you came to ask.” I glance at his empty hands, which clench and unclench at his sides. “I haven’t received a letter from the queen in weeks. I don’t suppose that’s why you’re here?”
He shakes his head. “Haven’t received anything new.”
“Well then?” I cross my arms, letting the annoyance settle on my face.
Again, he clears his throat. Standing up a little taller and finding his confidence.
“A girl crossed.” He raises a hand up around shoulder-height. “About ye tall. Unruly hair. Lots of curls. So blonde it’s almost silver. I—” He swallows and glances away before looking back at me. “Her body was never sent back.”
Alessia.
Ah.
Perhaps this little venture wasn’t such a waste after all. It would appear our messenger does know my little rose.
