Humor me.
I counted to ten.Because even when in deep sleep, they retain awareness on several mental planes.
I shoved the dagger into its holster, and contemplated my boots.And when they begin to wake, which can take years, they aren’t rational. If they ever were. They react on instinct to any approaching power as a perceived threat. Startle an irrational demi-god who is clawing cobwebs out of his eyes and you deserve what you get.
Though they were even worse when awake. We had reasons for preferring Old Ones stay removed from internecine warfare—their idea of a good fight was simply annihilating everyone within reach and starting over with new stock.
Maman would have understood that if he sensedeventhe slightest threat, he’d strike first and not bother to ask questions later.
But I don’t care,I added.I want him to suffer.
Stubborn.
Maybe. But maybe I’m just right.
I was ready. Twenty-four of us assembled in the stone-walled courtyard in front of our head townhouse, though we stabled our horses and carriages throughout the district to maintain a semblance of secrecy to our movements.
I know what you want,Darkan said as Numair, Juliette, and I entered my carriage and it lurched into motion. We’d changed carriages twice, then merged into traffic outside the city through an allied district’s gate.I understand you better than you understand yourself.
“You are myself,” I muttered. I stared out the window, thrumming my fingers on my thigh. “It's notthatsimple. The House doesn't want peace. Maybe a few of us do, but not enough of us to bring everyone to heel.”
So you'll have to kill a few people.
“Thatseems. . .counterproductive.” I pursed my lips, uncomfortable with my other self’s ruthlessness. Cruelty wasn’t the Fae trait I wanted to nurture.
Did you think you would achieve peace without shedding the blood of your House?
I bristled at the implicit criticism in his question. “No.”But I don't have the power to pull off a bloodless peace.
No. You don't.Verywell,then.
Verywell what?
Numair and Juliette eyed me, used to the one-sided conversations I never bothered to hide. We were too close, and my acting skills nonexistent. As long as I didn't embarrass the House in public, they'd keep my secret—though I suspected Numair communicated with my therapist on occasion.
Don't try anything nefarious today,I warned Darkan.
Myself—whatever. I didn’t see how he could be a fractured part of my psyche, but every time I tried to think about it—
And don’t interrupt me at a bad time or make me do anything stupid,I added.
You dare?
I sighed inwardly and braced myself for Rant: Incoming.
Faronne is hotheaded, lacks refined manners, is swayed by bloodthirst to the point of savagery—
WeareLow Fae.House Faronne boasted mainly youths under five hundred, uncouth and loud.
None of you have any dignity,he added.
Baba.
He is only one man.
True.
Aunt Fatma and Murungaru too. But though they were the best behaved of us all and related to me by blood, they were considered vassals by other Fae rather than actual members of Faronne.
