Bree’s eyes were wide.
“But I don’t like how the Lyralinah have treated all of you,” Zelli added. “And by extension, how he has. It will have to be the hard way. Tahlen is going to be…. He…” loved Zelli. He’d said so. Although all it seemed to mean for him was constant worry. Maybe that’s what love was, and the songs about it skipped that part in favor of kisses and longing. Or maybe the problem was Zelli, and Zelli should find someone for Tahlen who would give him love in return and not just a tangle of painful feelings.
Zelli raised a hand to rub away the terrible feeling of wrongness in his chest, only to let his hand fall because the feeling wasn’t there. He couldn’t remember it any time earlier than last night before Tahlen had come to his room and it hadn’t returned after Tahlen had left.
“I should return to my room.” Zelli frowned at the air, full of questions the fae would never answer. “The least I can do is stay back as he asked and wait for Grandmother to arrange a meeting between us. In a few days, likely. I wonder if they will stay here the whole time, or if more of them will come. The longer it takes to resolve things, the weaker our position will be. But it’s not right to let them have you or the others.” He focused on Bree. “Tahlen and Grandmother admit that, but with so many others to protect, I’m not sure what can be done. All we really have to intimidate them is the threat of the fae, which we don’t even know we have.” He turned to Ivey and Gurn. “You’ll assure him I stayed back when he finds out, as he will?” He smiled faintly when they nodded. “Thank you.”
Ivey followed Zelli down the staircase to lift the bar on the door for him, although Zelli might have managed it. Ivey’s expression was far too grave, but there was nothing Zelli could do about that. He pulled the hood of his cloak even lower over his face, keeping his head down and his eyes on his feet as he tried to slip through the crowd on the internal side of the gate.
“The Tialttyrin is generous,” Kear said. He had either raised his voice to be heard or his voice had not carried easily up to the tower, because he was louder now. “My people will be pleased to accept your gifts of food and wine while they are here. And I am honored you’d welcome me into your home.”
“It seems more fair to you,” Grandmother answered. The trace of amusement in her tone might not have been obvious to Kear, but it made Zelli stop in his tracks. “You ought to understand who you will be dealing with before you make any promises on behalf of your sister.”
“I’ve found The Tialttyrin to be a reasonable, sensible leader.”
Zelli wondered if Kear frowned in confusion as he said that or kept his smile, but he couldn’t raise his head to find out without risking being seen.
“I’m not speaking of myself. Haven’t you heard the stories of the fae?” Grandmotherwasamused, or at least pretending to be. “An alliance is a bargain. I’m not sure you’re prepared.”
“I recognize that I don’t have as many years as the Tialttyrin,” Kear wasnotamused, “but I have my sister’s esteem and I am more than capable of settling on terms with you.”
“I am not speaking of myself,” Grandmother said again. Uncle Rou coughed.
Puzzled, Zelli decided to risk lifting his head, then pulled his hood slightly from his face. He hissed when he caught sight of his gloves, the fingertips torn through by black nails. No—claws. They were gleaming black like his horns and seemed blunt compared to his teeth, yet they’d grown out and ripped through fabric.
Amazed, he stared at them and heard someone next to him gasp.
“Would I not be bargaining with you?” Kear’s impatience was clear. He spoke as through Grandmother were a bit dotty. “Are you not The Tialttyrin?”
“Kear of the Villucatto,” Grandmother sighed it, “as I have been trying to tell you and everyone with you; to deal with us is to deal with the fae, and it is their representative you would be speaking to and perhaps allying with.”
Zelli’s claws disappeared before his eyes with an uncomfortablepushingsensation, as if they’d withdrawn back into his skin though he did not bleed. He stared at his raised hand, waiting and wondering, then willed the claws to return.
They did.
He stumbled into someone, apologizing profusely even before they turned around. Ott, the blacksmith from the village, opened his mouth but no sound came out. Zelli stared blankly back up at him.
“One of the fae?” Kear was near to scoffing. “Then where are they?”
Oh, Zelli realized.
“Here!” he called and was irked by the tremor in his own voice. He turned away from Ott and stood straighter. “I’m here!”
People were shoving each other in order to step away from him. Several of the Tialttyrin guards on foot twisted around to search for the speaker. Starfall shifted in place though Tahlen did not look back.
Zelli peeled his gloves off because they felt strange and too tight.
“I would….” His voice was weak. He tried again. “I might consent to such an alliance if you could promise the safety and continued well-being of the people in this valley, and to cease your pursuit of any guards who have broken their oaths,” more people were turning to look at him, including Ona and Rou, their horses stepping aside and leaving a space where Zelli could see the line of Villucatto and Lyralinah guards, “as it is their established right to do.”
He stepped forward awkwardly. His boots felt too tight as well, but he didn’t want to think about claws on his toes.
Though she must be tired, Grandmother did not sway or bend. Tahlen, at her side, remained unmoving.
Zelli tore his gaze from him to focus on Kear, now in his line of sight.
“Who are you?” Kear demanded.
Zelli stopped just behind the Tialttyrin line and pulled in a breath before he lowered the hood of the cloak.
