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My heart skittered faster as I searched the firelight for Goll, wondering what woman would catch his eye for the night’s celebration. He’d told me we wouldn’t consummate our union here, so he must be finding his own wench to celebrate with tonight.
He wasn’t amongst them. My gaze stopped on Soryn, who had a buxom dark-haired fae in his lap. He was telling a story I couldn’t hear to the others when the prostitute turned and straddled him, kissing him on his neck. He stopped what he was saying, drank down his tankard of ale, dropped it to the ground,and stood with his hands cupping her bottom. The wraith fae laughed and cheered as he stalked away and into a nearby tent.
I stepped back from the opening, not wanting to see Goll if he was with one of those women. This felt like jealousy, but that was absurd. We didn’t have a real relationship. I didn’t evenknowhim. But even so, by all the gods, he could have some decency and not sleep with another woman the night of our moon-binding.
Storming back to the bed, I crawled underneath and pulled the top fur up to my chin, staring at the tent’s door, wishing he’d return so I could tell him what I really thought of him.
“I hate him,” I hissed into the air, blinking back the stinging tears of my laughable and humiliating state.
To be forced into sexual servitude to produce his heir and used whenever he saw fit while he paraded around as master of the world, sleeping with whomever he liked. My blood simmered beneath my skin, rage covering me in a sheen of sweat.
No, there was no way I would sleep tonight.
I must’ve dozed,but something woke me. Not the sound of wild laughter and carousing, but the opposite. It was quiet except for the sound of a beautiful male voice singing.
Unable to help myself, I donned my robe and slippers then opened the tent flap. Meck and Ferryn were still right there on duty, not saying a word as I stepped outside and listened.
“Who is that?” I asked.
“I don’t know, Mizrah,” answered Meck. “The celebrations have mostly died down.”
“Can I get a closer look then?” I gestured toward the firelight not far away.
Meck and Ferryn shared a look but it was Ferryn who said, “Yes, my lady. Follow me. We can move close enough for you to see.”
The woods were steeped in shadow, the few circles of campfire giving off the only light. They’d used wood rather than coal outside, it appeared.
I stepped closer to the voice that had lured me from my tent, easing quietly to the circle of wraith fae who sat enraptured at the song.
The wraith fae with a broken horn was singing. Goddess save me, what an unearthly beautiful sound coming from his mouth. It was a strange juxtaposition. For this male had been the most hideously scarred of all the wraith fae I’d seen here, and the only one with a broken horn. He was ugly in appearance, and yet his voice was heavenly. Like the goddess had bestowed on him a special gift to make up for his scars.
But the goddess wouldn’t bless a wraith fae. It would have to be Vix or one of the wraith gods. I found myself pondering this strange trail of thought while soaking in his words in demon tongue, trying to decipher the story he wove into song.
We stopped well outside the circle of warriors around the fire but still close enough to see and hear better. I noted none of the light fae prostitutes were in this campfire circle.
Leaning close to Ferryn, I asked, “He sings about home, yes?”
He nodded, glancing down at me. “This is a favorite of the wraith fae. Keffa is what’s called a skyldenbard.”
“What’s that?” I didn’t recognize the demon word.
“Our song-master. Keffa was once revered across all of Northgall as one of the best.”
“Once?”
“He’s been in prison for many years by King Xakiel. But Gollaya set him free.” Ferryn’s brow creased as he watched thesinger. “Though I’d never heard him sing myself, he’s legendary according to the fae here.”
“Bards are important to wraiths?” I asked, rather surprised at this.
Meck seemed amused as he answered, “Of course, they’re important. Keffa has a way of singing that speaks directly to the heart.” He paused, watching Keffa thoughtfully. “His song is like when magick comes, filling you with that blinding euphoria.”
I’d not considered my new magick very special. It didn’t feel the same as before. But there were moments, like when I soared into the clouds behind a hawk’s eyes, that the magick burned brightly through my veins. That was when I remembered what it was like to be a powerful light fae.
“Don’t you need a song for your heart, Mizrah?” asked Ferryn.
It was an innocent question, his gaze calculating like he truly wondered at the answer.
“I suppose you’re right. We all need one.”
