The king glanced at Iomhar and frowned. ‘I did not invite anyone else up here.’
‘Please, Your Majesty, I beg an audience,’ rasped a voice from outside.
Iomhar nonchalantly placed a hand on his spear as the king replied, ‘Enter.’
In burst Liath, the abandoned Redfolk, accompanied by two guards who hurriedly bowed to the king. ‘Our apologies, Your Majesty. He insisted it was urgent.’
Fionn hadn’t paid much attention to the man that had been his intended mate, but once Liath was in close quarters he was hard to ignore. Taller yet skinnier than the average Minchman, Liath gave the impression of a firmly muscled eel. His flowing fins added to the fluidity of his body, though the short spines on his back were raised in what Fionn was coming to think of as an offensive position.
Liath barrelled past Fionn and prostrated himself in front of the Blue King. ‘I come to plead a case for my people.’
The king let out the smallest snort of disbelief. ‘Have you, now? Do explain. And get up.’
Liath bolted upright. ‘Your Majesty, I hear talk in the throne room of discontinuing your tribute of food to our people.’
‘I have made no such suggestion.’
‘But your people speak of it.’ Liath positively jittered with worry. ‘I’m here to tell you what our king will not. I may be an exile but I won’t allow my people to suffer for his malice towards you. The truth is that we will not survive without your tribute.’
Fionn recognised something in Liath’s song—a kindred earnestness to do his duty, to do what was right for his people. ‘Calm down, brother. We’ll hear you.’
The king shot Fionn a wry smile. ‘Will we, indeed? Go on, then. Liath, was it?’
Liath nodded feverishly. ‘It is the Rot, Your Majesty. A disease that is sweeping the fae realm. It steals our prey from us, renders our oceans barren. We rely heavily on the supplies you send through the portal from your world.’
Was that a glint Fionn saw in his father’s eye?
‘Interesting news, indeed,’ the king said. ‘I see we may have many enlightening conversations, you and I.If you are to be trusted.’
Fionn recalled the voice that had tried to comfort him from beyond the blindfold during the wedding ceremony—Liath imploring him to look beyond the cruelty of a short-sighted king. ‘I feel he can be, father. It would be a good start to leaving behind old ways of doing things, yes? Such as archaic marriage bargains.’
King Aonghas studied Fionn anew, his expression as serious as ever. ‘When did you grow a wise head on you? Leave now, before I put it to some good use in my court room.’
Fionn gave a half-bow to his father, a nod to Iomar and Liath, then hooked his arm in Rory’s and towed him out into the spiral corridor.
‘Almost sounded like he was offering you a job back there,’ Rory said in his ear.
Fionn’s blood was electrified. New possibilities tingled at his fingertips. He nuzzled Rory’s neck. ‘All of this is thanks to you.’
‘Don’t sell yourself short. I’m not the one who spent day after day watching a guy cast creels for a living.’
‘I learned a great deal while doing so. I came to admire your diligence, even if I misunderstood your purpose at the time.’
‘My purpose?’ Rory sounded amused.
Fionn was almost embarrassed to admit it. ‘I thought you were a lifeline sent just for me. An escape rope, of sorts. But I realised I loved you when I saw that your purpose lay far beyond me.’
Rory stopped their descent to pull Fionn closer. ‘You know my purpose lieswithyou now, right? I’m making my own meaning… or some other poetical shit. You’d put it better than me.’
Fionn kissed Rory’s webbed fingers, one by one. ‘I am with you, Rory Douglas. Wherever you choose to go.’
Chapter Thirty-Two
Fionn’s somewhat enigmatic statement of devotion sat heavily on Rory’s chest as they toured the rest of the palace.Wherever you choose to go,as if Fionn expected him to want to move on.
Guiltily, Rory tried not to consider where the horizon lay while underwater.
As soon as they reached the bottom of the Aft Tower they ran into a swarm of guards and palace attendants who had apparently been waiting for them, with Neacel alongside. Neacel gave them a cheery wave while the rest stood—well, floated—to attention.
