He sought a vision of his beloved princess, her goldenhair and pale skin. Lithe form always shrouded in luxurious silks. Her eyes, so blue…so…blue-green…green.
Before he grasped the image in detail, Rori once again took residence in his mind, front and center. Demanding his attention. His reaction. His everything.
“Naught. Naught for me.”
A soft whisper that shattered his current thoughts, bringing him back to the cavern, the stench, the reason he’d returned.
Casting any thought of Rori from his mind, slamming her behind thick walls of willpower, he followed the trail of Grison’s energy to the same study-like room where he’d last found the deceitful Fae. This time, he chose not to enter the room, instead creating a listening spell in order to hear the conversation from within. The more he looked upon the High Fae, the more he envisioned the day he’d cut the bastard down and watch him writhe in pain before perishing. He’d naught to lose, after all.
“…much longer in these hollows. Our reserves are running low.”
An unfamiliar voice, one Thaddeus filed away. Within the room, Cecir lingered with Grison, and it seemed two additional energy threads he couldn’t recognize. He’d not mingled with lower-class Fae. Not as Daeanna’s favored toy.
He stopped himself from cringing at the admission, for ’twas what he had been. A toy.
Cael spoke naught less than truths Thaddeus hadn’t wished to acknowledge. It had made the sacrifices he committed far less painful to bear.
Choices made upon a heart’s dream without a mind’s logic.
“Send a small scouting crew to Faery. Raid the smaller shops during the night and manipulate the memories ofwitnesses. If meat is unable to be procured, scavenge the forests in the mortal realm for temporary supplies. ’Tis lesser quality, but sustenance nonetheless.”
Grison. Giving orders.
“Have scouts located a better-suited hideaway yet?”
“Nay. Most of the sub-realms of Faery are under close guard and those which are not are unsuitable for any long-term settlements. Alas, this is the best choice for the time.”
“Pitiful, what we’ve come to.”
“’Tis temporary, sir. Everyone within this movement understands their sacrifices will be well rewarded once we overtake the Court?—”
“Silence!” Grison hissed. His order cut through the air, so dense and heavy that even Thaddeus felt the shift. “We know not of extra ears which may be listening. Though we’ve set wards, they’re not infallible. Especially to one who may possess stronger magic than those who placed the wards.”
“He’s not returned since you sent him on his quest.”
The corner of Thaddeus’s mouth twitched with the hint of a grin. Aye, he’d returned. Once.
“Whether or not he’s returned, we cannot be certain. ’Twould be a devastating mistake to underestimate him.” Goddess, the tension within the room must have been excruciating, for Thaddeus struggled beneath its weight with a stone wall between him and the source. “Go. Relay my orders to the others. Be off within the hour. Time runs differently in the mortal realm and it’ll be safest to hunt beneath the cover of night.”
Thaddeus reinforced the fabric of invisibility with a touch more magic as the rickety door opened. He remained frozen in place as two Fae emerged, the second pulling the door closed behind him, leaving Grison and Cecir alone in the room. Thaddeus recognized the two men from his first nightin the hall. They had dined with Grison at the head table. Messengers. Order carriers. Naught of much importance.
As they disappeared down the corridor, he returned to the conversation inside the room. Discussion of food and supplies, rumors of Court happenings, speculation of power shifts within the Council. Time ticked by, meaningless chatter giving him naught more than he came here with. Monotonous conversation about the business of running a rebel movement utilizing the few resources available. If Thaddeus wagered, he’d be the first to lay gold on Dagda squeezing them into a corner, biding his time until Grison and the movement could no longer survive.
’Twould be a passive tactic for the King of Realms to initiate. A tactic that often procured results.
“Any word on progress in the mortal realm?”
A sigh. “Nay.”
“’Tis taking longer than I anticipated.”
“I can send Linden to investigate the matter, should you wish.”
A faint tingle of magic brushed over Thaddeus’s hands. A subtle warning whispered in the back of his head. Had he tripped the ward? Did Grison suspect he was close by?
“Nay.”
Thaddeus disrupted the spell he’d imbued. He would leave with little more information than he had upon arriving. He wove a simple spell into the wall, ensuring it would not be detected unless one burrowed into the rock. He’d have to be cautious in the coming days. He suspected that Grison would soon send his scouts to track him down and relay information back to their leader about how he handled Cael.
