A soft blue mist floated around Siofra’s feet and curled up her legs. She walked through it. She must be dreaming. Mists were never blue.
A man turned toward her. Something about him reminded her of Lysander, but he was much too haughty. Was it another glamour? No, his grey eyes were cold, like liquid silver. Everything about him was cold and black. Except for the hair. Magnificent white hair cascaded past his shoulders.
“Why are you here?” he asked. “You should not have come.”
“I have to find something.”
He barked a raucous laugh. “And you thought I would aid you? Why should I?”
She took another step. His suit of clothes wasn’t black, more a midnight blue in this blue mist. “Why does everyone want something? Does no one love?”
“Do you?” He tilted his head to look at her, and the grey eyes bored into her. “Prove your love, and I will aid you.”
She had no one to love. Lysander, perhaps, but he wasn’t hers.
“You will fail him,” the man said. “You will choose yourself.”
He knew of Lysander. Could he read her thoughts?
“I will not fail. I have to know.”
“That is why you’ll fail.”
“Siofra.” A voice called to her. “We should leave here.”
“Leave?” she mumbled. Siofra sat up and blinked. She was still in that room at the Seelie Court. Had Lysander stayed with her all night?
“I brought you this.” He set a bowl of fruit on the table.
“If I eat it, will I be forced to stay here?”
“I removed the enchantment, but any food I give you would not affect you. Remember that we are already bound not to do one another harm.”
Siofra snapped up a yellowish apple and took a bite. Juice ran down her chin. “So good.” She took another bite. “It may be the best I ever had.”
She added all the fruit to her satchel then looked down at the shiny dress she still wore from the night before. She saw her clothing, clean and neatly folded on the table. “I need to change into trousers.”
Lysander walked to the door. “Let me know when you’re ready.”
Siofra had wanted to see more of the Seelie kingdom, but as soon as they left the living quarters, they found themselves in the woods again.
“Lysander, will we be forced to fight our way to the Unseelie Court as well?”
“No. The king is less concerned about who enters his court. We will arrive soon.”
“Isn’t he afraid that unsavory characters would seek to harm him?”
Lysander snorted. “He is never afraid of anything. It’s been said he even has an alliance with the Shadow Court, the darkest, most dangerous of the fey.”
The golden apple sank to the bottom of Siofra’s stomach and flipped over. How did she convince a frightening king to part with an object when she didn’t even know what it might be? Honestly, she’d be happy if she never saw him, but the thought of finding her family… That strange dream. What had the man said? She would fail because she needed to know.
“What is the king like?”
“Uncompromising. He does not suffer fools gladly. Many have left his presence less than when they arrived.”
“Less? You mean not as tall or…”
“You have nothing to fear. I will be with you when we reach the Unseelie Tower.”
And then they were standing in a throne room of reflective blue glass. The throne was magnificently high, the glass, or ice, reaching all the way to the domed ceiling. It looked as if the night sky hung with the moon. So many stars sparkled above them. Even though the room was dark in tone, it was brilliantly lovely. Siofra didn’t feel afraid at all.
“Why did you come?” asked the same voice from her dream. Siofra peered at the man beside her. He leaned into her face. “You will fail.”
Siofra gasped. “You were in my dream.” She didn’t have time to be afraid because she was so angry. “How dare you! I would never let Lysander down. We support one another, and he saved my life. There is nothing you could say to separate us. We have no secrets.”
The smile he gave her chilled Siofra all the way to her toes as he turned to Lysander. “Welcome home, son.”
“Father, what have you done?”
Father? Lysander was the son of the Unseelie king? All this time he’s been searching for the lost princess he wants to marry? Siofra felt a wave of nausea rise from her stomach.
“More to the point, what have you done? Bringing this chit of a girl, stinking of human into my throne room? Just look at her attire. Has she no respect? Take it away.”
Lysander shook his head at the two hulking green figures that headed their way, and they backed off. Siofra waited for the king’s rage at being disobeyed. Instead, he laughed. “Your parlor tricks won’t work here, boy.” He snapped his fingers, and two more creatures zoned in on Siofra.
“Enough!” she cried. “I don’t care which of you wins this little contest. I merely came to retrieve an object that belongs to the queen of the Summer Court.”
The king turned his back on them both and climbed five steps to his throne. “I have nothing from the Summer Court…that belongs to the queen.”
He couldn’t lie, so it must be true…unless he didn’t regard the object as hers. “Might you have something that she thinks is hers?”
“You are learning.” He turned a false smile on Lysander. “Did you coach her?”
Lysander shrugged.
“You didn’t answer,” Siofra said.
“Why should I? If I don’t believe an object is hers, I have no reason to return it to her. What’s in this for me?”
“I have sugar.”
He bellowed with laughter, his hand going to rest on his flat stomach. “Your pet is amusing, son.”
Siofra wanted to stamp her foot, but that would get her nowhere. Obviously, she could no longer trust Lysander to share her interests. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Outraged, assuredly. Betrayed? Probably.
“Fine,” she said, walking as close to the steps as she could. “What do you want?”
The king’s head snapped toward her and his dark glare raked over Siofra. “You have nothing. You are nothing.”
She felt the pain of that deep in her gut. She was nothing? She may not have a king for a father, but she was someone’s daughter. Her own parents had loved her dearly.
She climbed a step. The king raised a brow. She took another step. He looked toward Lysander. As if Lysander could make her stop. As if he could make her do anything…without using magic.
And there was her answer. Lysander could do nothing to harm her. She no longer trusted him, but he couldn’t kill her nor participate in maiming her.
“Lysander cannot help you. He is not allowed to harm me. Do whatever you want, but he will be forced to protect me…against your will, which will cause his harm.”
“Siofra, he doesn’t care what happens to me,” Lysander said.
The king lurched to his feet, glaring from Siofra to Lysander. “You will both leave or you will spend the night in the dungeon with the redcaps and goblins.”
Siofra never wanted to see a redcap again, and she didn’t think goblins would be better.
“Wait!” she cried. “Where is what I seek?”
“It was taken by Islebill, a dragon.”
A dragon! How in the world did she find and defeat a dragon? And she still didn’t know what she was looking for.
The king’s voice whispered against her ear. “You owe me.”
When Siofra turned to face him, he was no longer in the room at all. He’d left them in this cold stony tomb of a room, alone together.
Siofra sank on the bottom step. She simply couldn’t face Lysander right now. Learning that he was the prince searching for his lost love…she couldn’t bear to think of it. Every touch. Every glance. She’d thought each moment pregnant with consequence. How could she have been so mistaken? How could she have given her heart away?
“Siofra, I imagine you have questions.”
Yes. Why did you make me love you? But that, she would never say.
“Where do I find the dragon Islebill?”
“I told you not to say you were willing to battle dragons.” He reached for her but let his hand drop. “He could have misled you. Not once did he say what the dragon stole. You don’t know what the object is.”
But she knew it was the truth. She felt it. She flipped her palm up. No glowing. No blue whatsoever. Whatever this object was, a dragon had it now.
“How do I find a dragon’s lair?”
A map materialized in her lap.
Lysander reached forward and took it. “These are directions. Why is he helping? He never helps.”
Because he wanted to prove that Siofra wasn’t capable of loving his son. No matter what Lysander thought of his father, one thing was clear to Siofra. The king cared for his son. Or he was sending Siofra into a trap, but that would harm Lysander as well.
“Maybe he wants me to owe him a favor.”
“Yegads! He can now ask for anything. He could make you give him the very object you wish to retrieve.”
That would make her extremely irate, but she couldn’t think of it now.
“I have a dragon to find.”
Suddenly, they were no longer in the king’s castle.
“Why are we always being moved about? I have yet to see the outside of these magical castles. And, woods! Why are there always woods? Might we not see a taciturn lake or a grassy vale?”
A strong hand gripped her wrist. “Siofra, we need to speak.”
She refused to look at him. “I am certain you had your reasons for not telling me you are betrothed to the missing princess. Do you think that’s why the queen said she’d help me? Because she has lost someone as well?”
“The queen makes no sense. She could easily have given you what you seek, but she sent you, instead, on a quest.”
“For an unknown artifact. Do you think it gold? Pearls? Perhaps a tiara?”
“She could conjure such articles herself.” He shook his head. “I cannot fathom the motives of either monarch.”
“Let’s be off. I don’t know where we are or where we’re going, but staying in one place has often proved dangerous.”
She began walking, with Lysander at her side.
He chuckled, and she offered him a quizzical look. “You are assuredly anxious to be rid of that sugar.”
Siofra joined him in laughter. “I suppose it was ridiculous, but Mrs. Sgot was right about so many things.”
“Sugar is good for fairies, pixies, and sprites, but those have little place in either royal court. They’re practically considered vermin.”
Vermin. All those creatures that attacked her. Redcaps. Something niggled still at her mind. She gasped. The redcap had said Lysander was one of their own. That should have told her Lysander was a Winter Court fey. Oh, the depths of her naivete. Had he not warned her from the start of their relationship that fey kept secrets? How many more would stab her heart?
“What is it?” he asked.
“I was remembering the redcap when he said you were one of his own. I should have realized you were Unseelie. I…I’ve been a fool.”
He took her elbow. “Please stop and talk with me.”
“Why? It is what it is. You are a keeper of fey secrets, and I’m just a human.”
He whirled her around and wrapped his arms around her. “I would tell you many things, were I able. Does my conduct not speak volumes?” His warm breath against her ear ignited such a longing in her heart.
Siofra sighed and allowed herself a moment to rest her head against his chest. If only he were hers. If only he could find proof that the princess was never coming back. If only he were able—
She jerked away. “What did you mean you would tell me things if you were able? Have you been compelled by magic not to say certain things?”
Lysander reached down for her hand and raised it to his lips. “You are a very clever miss.”
The moment his lips met her hand, Siofra felt a tingle where the queen had magicked her palm. When Lysander raised his head, Siofra studied her palm. An ever so slight blue glow. “Look. Something about you…” She couldn’t bring herself to refer to him kissing her hand. “You have something to do with what we’re searching for.”
Lysander gripped her hand, then ran his fingers over the patch of blue. It grew even brighter. When he raised his head, his eyes were alight. “I know what it is and I know why my father does not consider it the queen’s possession.”
Siofra waited, but Lysander said nothing more. “Well? Tell me.”
He shook his head but reached for Siofra’s chin and opened her mouth.
“You can’t tell me but you want me to ask.”
When he nodded, Siofra groaned. “That is an impossible task.”
“Think of dragons.” He began to walk again, and Siofra followed. “They are obsessed with collecting things, particularly shiny things…like jewels.”
Jewels. A jewel that had something to do with Lysander that the king would not believe the queen should have. “Are you missing a crown?”
“Smaller. And do not forget the queen thinks she should have it.”
A small jewel connected to Lysander, the king, and the queen. She had no idea. “Did you give her something that belonged to your father?”
He said nothing, which encouraged her line of thinking. What small jewel would a man present to the mother of his intended? What if it wasn’t something that belonged to the king but to Lysander himself?
“Let me see your hands.”
He held up his hands but kept walking. They were bare.
“Are your hands hiding anything I can’t see.”
“No.”
“Have you ever owned a ring? Maybe a signet ring?”
“Not a signet ring.”
Siofra sucked in air so quickly, she had to cough before she could speak again. “A betrothal ring?”
He said nothing, but he twisted his head to smile at her.
She had done it. Figured out an impossible riddle. Well, he had given her hints. So, Lysander had given his intended a ring, which had been taken back by the king when the wedding never took place. But why would the king let a dragon anywhere near such a precious possession?
“You were right. I don’t think a dragon stole that ring. I think your father has been sneaking and listening to me. He gave the ring to that dragon just because I said I would fight a dragon.”
Lysander nodded.
“Your father is very annoying.”
Lysander chuckled. “You are not the first to say that…and worse.”
“I don’t want to imagine worse. I suppose we should determine a strategy for beating a dragon.”
“We are a team again?”
“Forgive me. You were right. Your conduct does speak of your honor. I had no reason to doubt you.”