Varis smiles, a glint in his eyes. "That was the night before I turned to slumber. Asher and I were enemies by then, but I had to see him one last time."
"And what are you now?" I ask.
He shrugs. "I do not know. I fought for the Fae. He fought for the vampires."
"But you turned on Oren. You protected me and Arianna."
"Yes, but is that enough? Asher and I have not spoken since before the battle. His mind and heart are his own. And I do not know if I will ever truly win them back."
I grin. "Perhaps if you wore a suit. Maybe grew some hair."
Varis runs a hand over his bald head and the silver tattoos there. He chuckles. "Perhaps. Times are shifting. Maybe we Druids can have a different look for once. But there are advantages. My hair never blocks my vision in a fight. You should try it some time—"
"I’m not shaving."
"But it’s traditional for a Druid—"
"Never."
"But it symbolizes the eternal Spirits and—"
"Be quiet or my fist will symbolize eternal pain."
We both laugh.
"What’d I miss?" Dean walks out from the shadows, shirtless, a sword hanging from his belt.
I smirk. "Only the jokes we were making at your expense. Your fighters, I’ve seen Fae children with more strength."
Dean studies the men training in his yard. "You have a point."
Varis bows his head slightly. "I will see you two later. That is, if your vampire tendencies don’t take over and you murder each other first." With that, he leaves, returning to the palace.
Dean throws a leather bag at me and I catch it. He grins. "Ready to return to Stonehill?"
I place my fingers to my mouth and whistle. After a moment, Baron rushes from the palace, falling in place at my side. He bares his teeth at Dean, growling.
And I smile. "Ready."
Together, we walk out of the palace, joking and laughing, but something tickles at my mind. I have never called Baron from so far before and had him heed me. Our bond is growing. Something in me is changing. I remember the tale Varis told me, and I tremble for what is to come.
***
I say goodbye to Arianna, and then Dean and I argue over going by boat or horse. My brother prefers the comfort of his barge, but I argue steeds would be quicker. Eventually, he relents, and we pick two horses from the stables and ride out into the night. The sun begins to rise before we slow our pace, allowing our animals to rest. Baron keeps stride with me.
"You’re using illusion again," I say.
Dean nods, adjusting the black hood over his face. "How do you know?"
I just do. Something else I couldn’t do before. My brother and I both wear cloaks, his black, my brown, and light leather beneath. We should look like travelers, likely nobility, judging by our horses and swords, but not very important. Important people would be on a barge after all. Baron would appear a black dog to anyone who would look. An odd companion, but not unheard of in these lands.
After I don’t respond, Dean shrugs. "You scare me sometimes, you know. The things you can do. It’s not like the rest of us."
I grin. "Saying I make you shit your pants?"
"No… but I’m not sure Levi can say the same."
"You’ve been part of the council since Arianna and I escaped. Tell me, how do the others stand on matters?"
Dean tilts his head to the side, grinning from ear to ear. "Oh, you should see the meetings. What marvelous entertainment they make. Niam and Levi bicker over Stonehill like an old couple. Levi controls the castle, without a doubt, and so his income has increased. Our poor greedy brother Niam just can’t stand the thought. He’s trying to split the profits, offer his consulting and manpower in return."
"Let me guess… Levi cares nothing for his help?"
"Levi cares nothing for any of us. Oh, everyone spoke of ruling their own realm in contentment, but what a pile of stinking shit that turned out to be. Everyone wants to be king. And now that Arianna is out of the picture, they’re trying to figure out how to do it with maximum backstabbing and minimal honor."
I raise an eyebrow. "Even Zeb? I always figured him uninterested in politics. More concerned with food and wine."
Dean frowns, his eyes growing dark. "I know you have always liked him, but do not underestimate our dear brother. There is a darkness in him. I saw it during the invasion, when he lead the front lines against the Fae in battle. He tore men apart with his bare hands, did worse to the women."
"None of us are innocent," I say.
He looks away, shame on his face. "No. I suppose none of us are."
A moment. "What of Ace?"
"Unclear," says Dean. "He’s colder than usual. Harsher. As far as I can tell, he’s trying to stay neutral, but it is difficult in such times. I think, when you spoke of killing our father, he took it personally somehow, a betrayal. It hurt him most of all. More than Arianna being Fae. More than you being a Druid."
I sigh, the weight of regrets bearing on me. "He helped me search for our father’s killer. I didn’t wish it, but I couldn’t turn his help down either."
Dean nods. And then he asks what I have dreaded. "Was it true? Did you really kill our father?"
"No," I say, studying his eyes, looking to see if he believes me. His gaze is hard, unyielding, so I continue. "I did not kill Lucian. But I did drug him. He spoke to me of freeing all the Fae, of making them our equals. It did not sound like him, and it did not sound possible without destroying our way of life. So I drugged him, intending to restrain him, see if his state of mind would return to normal. However, he did not go unconscious; instead, his symptoms were those of death."