Page 93 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

Lark

Oisin returns to my rooms in the afternoon, but he does not remain for long. I am uncertain whether he does not wish to be there or he does not wish to look at me.

I am getting worse. Exponentially so. And yet I cannot sleep, even with the moon as high as she is now. Instead, I leave the warded safety of my rooms and wander out into the castle’s halls.

It has been so long since I have walked this place. Even before I left this realm, I spent little time here; I had my own residence at a settlement a few hours away, one in which another fae now resides. I shake my head at the thought. That place never meant much to me. I walked between realms long before Dante was born, waiting for him, even if I did not know him at the time. I walked this realm, too, always restless.

I consider that as I turn down another hallway. I pause midway down it and turn to look at the walls. They are rough stone, as is much of the castle beyond the main entrance and throne room. That is where Oisin and I will be presented on the new moon. Should I last that long.

But here… I lift my hand and press it against the stone. It does not speak to me the way plants do, but there is something living deep inside of it nonetheless. I feel an ancient, dormant power, and for a moment, it soothes me.

“Your belief in your fate will kill you,” the witch says.

I do not jolt in surprise, despite the fact I am in no way expecting her to be here. When I turn my head, she is standing at the end of the hall, watching me. I see no compassion or sympathy in her face. Her expression is as hard as the stone beneath my fingertips.

“My fate was to be tricked by a fae, apparently,” I say dryly. “I believe in that. I suppose you are right.”

She inclines her head, and her smile is mocking. Her footsteps make no sound as she walks down the corridor, and she stops just before me. I do not let go of the stone.

“Not only your fate,” she murmurs. “Or did you forget about your soulbond so easily?”

The blood in my veins turns to ice. “No. He is safe.”

“You think my powers cannot extend into that realm?”

I stand a little straighter. “I know they cannot. The veil will stop them.”

Now her smile is strained at the edges. I am right. Iagan strengthened the veil because of fae just like her. She cannot reach through it, and she cannot leave this place.

“You had Aodhan kidnap Ophelia. Why?”

“I had thought he might make the trip himself. I do not know why. No one in your family likes to get their hands dirty when it comes to it. He sent Seelie instead. He schemes against me and believes I do not notice because he is even more a fool than you are.”

“Why did they take her?”

“They took the witch they found with a fae soulbond,” the witch says. “Unfortunate that two of them live in such close quarters, but all the sweeter for me. I did not expect to meet him, or the vampire you brought along with you. What an interesting group of friends you have.”

“You wanted me to come back. Why?”

“To suffer. As your parents should have suffered, and did, in the end. Your brother went quickly, and that was mostly on his own head. Iagan…” She trails off, thinking. “He is often unpredictable, even to me. But you? You are eminently predictable, Larkspur, even when you believe yourself not to be.”

Larkspur. Not my true name; even I do not know that. A fae’s true name is hidden to all but their own sight, and it is a fool’s errand to go and find it because then it could be betrayed to another. But Larkspur is the name my parents gave me. As though they knew, upon my birth, that I was not like the rest of them.

“Predictable?”

“Hmm.” She places her hand against the wall, next to mine. “You have sympathy where you pretend you do not. You fear more than any fae I have ever known. I had no doubt you would run back to save your soulbond, but any fae would do that. It was whether you would stay. And then you would know, in the small amount of time you had left, that your inability to truly abandon your kin would be the end of you and your soulbond both.”

“He is not here. The deal cannot reach him in his realm.”

“Who said he made it through?” the witch says. “Did you feel the veil open for his passing?”

She—I snarl, but I cannot move to do anything to her. I cannot move at all. She has coaxed the stone while I have been distracted, and it curls around my ankles, holding me in place.

“I do not wish for you to die by my hand, Lark,” she says. “Well, not like this. I swore to your mother that I would never lay a hand on you to harm you, and so I have not. You walked into your own fate. You welcomed death with open arms.”

“You tricked me. The deal… You added terms.”

“She never said I could not do that, either,” the witch replies. “I suppose she was rather overwhelmed at the time. Only had the ability to cover the basics. But then, so was I.”