“Speaking of, Garin said you’d look into what to do about the chest today.”
“Kestrel hasn’t responded to our letters noting his chest’s retrieval, or those proposing us getting it to him,” interjected Bastion. “The hawthorn trees are empty, void of response. We’ve sent several letters. From two separate locations.”
“Several, as in how many?” Lilac asked.
Bastion and Myrddin exchanged glances. “Once after the chest was obtained, and twice daily since the morning Garin sent you home. Before dawn, and once after nightfall,” answered Myrddin. “The lettersaregoing through the hawthorn channel. We just aren’t receiving any responses.”
Piper uncrossed her arms. “Is there any way the letters might be getting intercepted?”
“No,” said Myrddin. “The faerie channels are tightly protected by their unique portal magic.”
“Is portal magic the same thing as interdimensional magic?” asked Lilac.
Myrddin cast another surprised glance Lilac’s way. “Yes. One of the most complex capabilities in Alteration, nearly impossible to manipulate or interfere with. Dangerous when practiced at a whim, or by someone inexperienced. The witches have double checked the trees on our end. They’re healthy and secure.” The warlock tapped his chin. “Either end of the channel can be destroyed, a tree cut down or burned, rendering the other side useless. But if that happened, we’d know, because our letters wouldn’t have gone through at all.”
A sense of unease coiled itself around Lilac’s throat. She wondered if the lack of correspondence was unusual for the faerie king or not. “Maybe he’s busy. He did send a revenant to deliver his request.”
None of them said anything. Piper bit at her nails.
“Then you will deliver it,” she directed at Bastion.
It was like Lilac had slapped the perpetual scowl from his face. “To Cindefell?”
“To Cinderfell.”
Bastion slipped out of his chair and shuffled across the floor. The sight of him grovelling was pleasantly distracting; before she knew it, he was sweeping her hand in his. He managed to press his lips fervently to it several times before she tried to yank it away. But he held on. “Your Majesty, there must be some other way. Garin and Myrddin will go! It will be grand, and I can stay here with you.” He fingered the encased gemstone with his free hand, holding it up in the light. “With this amulet, I’ll protect you.”
Lilac stepped back, pulling him into the beam of sunlight. Bastion winced and released her—then scowled when nothing happened to his uncovered hands. “Likely, when the sun still makes you flinch.” She extended a hand, and the vampire begrudgingly took it, righting himself. “I needsomeoneto bring the chest to Kestrel. Garin is my emissary.”
“And now, one of her knights,” Piper said, crossing her arms and savoring the look of shock on Bastion’s face.
“Garin isn’t going anywherenearthe Low Forest,” Lilac confirmed.
Bastion looked helplessly at Myrddin.
“As much as I’d love to help, I cannot,” the warlock said. “Garin gave me clear instructions to watch over her.” He angled his head toward Lilac. “Your Majesty, when would you expect Bastion to leave?”
“Today. We shouldn’t prolong getting the chest to Kestrel with my approaching coronation day.” She failed to mention the wedding—-the words failing to form. “Bastion’s amulet will protect him from any sunlight that might otherwise undo his existence, so long as it stays on his neck. It will be more than enough.”
“So kind of you,” Bastion spat. “So kind of you both. Let’s send the big, bad vampire traipsing into the den of faeries.”
“Perfect. It’s settled then,” said Lilac, pressing her fingers together. “Then you can ask Kestrel, straightforwardly, if that generous bottle of delicious wine was a gift from him. He won’t be able to help himself from admitting it was he who thought of such a grand gesture. If he dances around the answer, it was him.”
“And what will you have me do if it is?”
Lilac chewed on her lip. She thought of the sheer terror she felt fighting and running from his revenant. Not even she would want to put Bastion through that. “Nothing, I suppose. But it is important we find out.”
The vampire remained quiet.
Myrddin had begun to stroke his beard.
“Something is bothering you, too,” Lilac said to the warlock. “What is it?”
“Besides the imminent danger of going to Cinderfell without a fae escort?” Bastion growled.
Myrddin silenced him with a glare. “Kestrel, King of the Court of the Valley, asked you specifically to bring this chest to him? Was there any confirmation ofwhomthe Yao Guai might’ve been delivering the chest to when the accident occurred?”
“No,” she replied slowly. “But I think Kestrel’s wish to obtain it trumps anyone else’s need for a measly chest. They offered it to us without question.”