Page 90 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

She sighs. “They sensed a bond? It’s weak. They might have figured it’s because Lark doesn’t have his magic.”

“But Aodhan would have known. He wanted Lark’s soulbond,” Grant says.

“I didn’t see him,” she replies with a shrug.

“Were you conscious the entire time?” I ask.

She pales. “No. But still, I don’t… I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

“Something’s been wrong ever since we got here,” I say. “Why would they chase Lark down and not his brother? Why would he agree to both of us dying if he didn’t fulfil his fate when he already knew who I was? It doesn’t make sense.”

Ophelia frowns, but when I look over at Grant, he’s staring past me. Ophelia and I exchange a glance, and then she waves her hand in front of his face. “Grant?”

He jumps to his feet. “No, that…” He paces back and forth. A headache is building at the base of my skull. I feel like shit, honestly, like I’m ill or something. That would be perfect on top of everything else.

“Oh my God,” he says after a moment. “Oh my God.”

“What is it?” Ophelia asks.

“It’s—” The door to the room opens and the more powerful fae from earlier walks into the room. He scowls when he sees Grant standing, but Grant whirls around and fixes him with a glare. “Shut up.” He spins back to us. “It’s so fucking obvious! We saw it from the beginning!”

“I… What?”

“The suns. The moon. The fucking dais and you said, after, the tombs…”

I said about the tombs? That was… two days ago? Yesterday? Fuck, I can’t remember. “I did?”

Grant makes a frustrated sound and throws his hands up into the air in frustration. He turns on the fae again. “Who ruled here before the last king and queen?”

The fae takes a step back. I guess he wasn’t expecting this when he walked in here. “That is not—”

“Simple question,” Grant growls. “Who were they?”

“I… they…” The fae stutters and comes to a stop. He draws himself up to his full height, but before he can say anything else, Grant growls deep in his chest.

All the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “You don’t remember, do you?”

“I was born while the last king and queen were on the throne,” the fae bites out.

“No, but someone should have told you. You’ve got the sense that someone told you, don’t you?”

Slowly, the fae nods.

“Someone made them forget,” Grant says to us. “Someone made everyone forget.”

“How?” Ophelia asks.

“Magic,” Grant replies.

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, no shit, but—”

“The veil.” They both look at me, and even the fae looks alarmed at that. “Lark said the veil was strengthened a couple of hundred years ago. It’s all magic, too, just a big net of spells. What’s one more woven in with the rest?”

“That is impossible,” the fae blusters. Whatever he came down here to do is apparently forgotten as he draws close to the bars. “There is no one power—” The word cuts off midway through and he pulls a face as though he’s eaten something sour.

Grant gives him a smug smile. “Who do you know who’s powerful enough to feed a spell into the veil?”

He knows. I know. The fae realises we know and scowls. “She would never. She did not even strengthen the veil alone.”