Page 12 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

She’s right.

The Elders didn’t want to let Ferria and me sell this year in the first place. Not without a male relative to oversee our efforts—a male relative we don’t have. Yet another one of their sexist rules for how the town should be run.

But after establishing ourselves as important members of society and pleading our case at the last ten town meetings, they finally relented. I can’t risk screwing that up.

I pull out of Lev’s grasp. “Fine.”

I turn back to the stall and keep my hands busy, pointlessly rearranging the tonics and bandages. Gradually, the curious eyes burning the back of my head drift away.

To my right, Lev lingers, helping Ferria unload her sack of candlestick holders, tools, cutlery, pans, and cups. I think back to how she moved down the inclined path without breaking a sweat and marvel at the strength in her tall, lean body.

“Soldiers!” The frantic shout echoes against the wood buildings enclosing the market square. “I need soldiers!”

I whirl around, along with everyone near me, searching for the source of the noise.

There. A young man with his head shaved along the sides and wearing the dark brown and green clothes belonging to forest scouts rounds the corner of the town hall up ahead, running toward the square.

“WHERE ARE THE SOLDIERS?”

I rise on my toes when I lose sight of the man in the crowd that swarms him. “What’s going on?”

“Stay with Ferria.” Lev nudges me toward my sister and then pushes his way through the crowd.

I grab my twin’s hand and, with a shared glance, we follow.

It isn’t difficult to stay close. Even panicked, people recognize Lev.

They’re more than eager to fall back and open a path to the young man, who is now shouting, “I need to speak to the Elders!”

Ferria and I draw up short just behind Lev as he reaches the man.

He places a strong hand on his shoulder. “Be easy, scout. What is it? What’s going on?”

“The forest.” Wild, fear-filled eyes focus on Lev, sending a wave of trepidation through me, stoking the protective nature of my magic into my palms.

Ferria gives my hand a squeeze, a silent warning. I take a breath and drag my fickle magic back.

“What about the forest?” Lev’s voice is even, calm.

“I-I saw something.” The man’s head swings from side to side, as if he’s trying to clear away a horrible memory.

He begins to babble, stringing nonsensical words together that heighten the anxiety of those gathered around, listening.

“What did you see?” Lev demands with a firm shake, sounding like the formidable soldier he’s known to be.

The scout blanches at his tone, but his spine goes rigid as he snaps to attention.

He gulps and says, “Fae, Brother Ironheart.”

A collective gasp tears from the crowd.

Ferria’s grip on my hand tightens, grinding my bones together. I barely notice. Cold floods my veins, freezing me in place.

“In the Forbidden Forest,” the scout continues, his body trembling as horror twists his features. “And they’re on their way here.”

3

I was two years old the last time a Fae was seen near Verdanthia—twenty-seven years after the fall of the Veil that once separated Astloria from the Fae lands to the north.