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I wondered how they’d managed to steal so many of the prized herd of the light fae who lived right on the borderlands of Northgall. No ambassador of Hellamir had come to seek help from us in Issos. Or perhaps they had, and Baelynn simply hadn’t passed that information along. It wasn’t as if I had been privy to all of the military maneuverings or the many disappointments as King Xakiel began to invade our lands.
I winced, thinking of Baelynn, wondering how he would manage without me. I’d heard Goll and Soryn talk as we walked through the corridors to Drakmir on the east bridge. My brother was to remain essentially under guard as steward of our kingdom. No—no longer our kingdom. It was all Goll’s now. I blinked away the harsh loss and focused on the new arrivals.
It made sense that they would want Pellasians. Only steeds standing twelve-feet tall with hooves as round as dinner plates could carry the weight of the wraith fae.
Goll stepped into view close to Soryn, who swung off his horse. There was another I hadn’t met yet standing next to Goll. He had a broken horn.
Smaller soldiers, probably adolescent warriors in training, came forward to take the mounts to a makeshift pen on the open plain.
Curious, I pushed open the flap to get a better look.
“Do you need something, Mizrah?”
A pale gray wraith fae with four horns curling backward and many runes painted on his forehead looked down at me with bright yellow eyes and a determined expression. He wore his hair with multiple small braids at the temples that were pulled back in a queue to hang loosely with his long black hair.
“No. I was simply curious about the horses. How did you acquire so many of our Pellasians?” I gestured over his shoulder the soldiers dismounting and entering camp.
He frowned then looked where I pointed. Glancing around, I hadn’t noticed a second wraith fae standing to the left of the tent opening. He matched the other one in appearance and demeanor. So much so that I was fairly sure they were twins. The second one stared at me with open wonder and interest.
“Mizrah,” said the one in front of me, “we bargain regularly with horsemasters in Hellamir.”
Frowning, I protested, “But trade is illegal with Northgall. That would be against the laws of Issos.” The old laws, rather.
The wraith fae smiled, and I noted he was rather handsome.
“That does not mean they won’t take our money anyway.”
“I…” I didn’t know what to say to that. Perhaps I was naïve in thinking no Issosian would dare barter with the enemy. It seemed there was much I didn’t know about the world, about my own people.
“Please, Mizrah. Wait inside.”
“I apologize,” I told my polite guard. “I do not know your name.”
He dipped his horns forward in a bow of his head. “I am Meck, Mizrah. At your service. And this is my brother, Ferryn.”
I nodded a bow at him and then his brother who still hadn’t spoken, but he watched and listened intently.
“Atmyservice?” I asked. “Or simply at the king’s service to keep me quiet and placated?”
The pale skin on his neck and jaw darkened slightly with a flush of purple. He was blushing.
“Ah,” I said. “That’s what I thought.”
“Our role is to keep you safe, Mizrah. And content.”
“Why do you call me ‘Mizrah’?” I asked. “Isn’t she one of your lesser goddesses?”
Goll had called me that earlier tonight, and he hadn’t explained why.
Meck’s yellow eyes widened slightly. But it was his brother Ferryn who stepped closer and replied, “She isn’t a lesser goddess. She wasn’t a goddess at all. She was a mortal fae.”
“Truly?”
He nodded, blinking his eyes curiously at me. “You do not know the tales of Mizrah, the mate of Vix?”
“One of his concubines, you mean.”
He blinked those unique eyes at me again. “Vix, our chief god, had only one companion. Her name was Mizrah.”
