I tense, expecting Oak to be angry at being told what to do. As royalty, it is out of order for him to be directed by someone of lower status, but the prince only shakes his head. “Worry no more. I’m only using the point of my blade to help me pry apart your too-clever knots.”
I study Tiernan in the half light of the fire. It is hard to gauge age among the Folk, but he looks to be only a little older than Oak. His blackberry hair is mussed; one of his pointed ears has a single piercing through it, a silver hoop.
I bring my hands to my lap, rubbing my fingers over the indentations the rope left in my skin. Had I not been straining so hard against the bindings, they wouldn’t be half so deep.
Oak puts the knife away and then says with great formality, “My lady, Elfhame requires your assistance.”
Tiernan looks up from the fire but does not speak.
I don’t know how to reply. I am unused to attention and find myself flustered to be the focus of his. “I have already sworn fealty to your sister,” I manage to croak out. I wouldn’t be alive if I hadn’t. “I am hers to command.”
He frowns. “Let me try to explain. Months before the Battle of the Serpent, Lady Nore managed to cause an explosion underneath the castle.”
I glance over at the former falcon, wondering if he was part of it. Wondering if I should remember him. Some of my memories of that time are terribly vivid, while others are blotted out like ink running over paper.
“At the time, it was thought to be an attack on Elfhame’s spies and a coincidence that Queen Mab’s resting place was disturbed.” Oak pauses, watching me as though he’s trying to determine if I am following along. “Most faerie bodies break down into roots and flowers, but Mab’s did not. Her remains, from her ribs to her finger bones, were imbued with a power that kept them from crumbling—a power to bring things to life. That’s what Lady Nore stole, and that’s what she’s drawing her new power from.”
The prince gestures toward the bridled soldier. “Lady Nore has attempted to recruit more Folk to her cause. For those who were cursed to be falcons, if they come to her Citadel, she offers to feed them from her own hand for the year and a day during which they are forbidden from hunting. And when they return to their original form, she demands their loyalty. Between them, her own Folk who remained loyal to her, and the monsters she’s making, her plans for revenge on Elfhame seem well under way.”
I look at the prisoner. The High Queen granted clemency to any soldier who repudiated what they’d done and swore fealty to her. Anyone who repented. But he’d refused.
I recall standing before the High Queen myself the night Oak spoke on my behalf. Remember when you said we couldn’t help her. We can help her now. Pity in his voice.
I’d bragged to the High Queen that I knew all Lady Nore and Lord Jarel’s secrets, hoping to be useful, thinking that since they spoke in front of me heedlessly, treating me as a dumb animal instead of a little girl, they’d kept nothing back. Still, they’d never spoken of this. “I can’t recall any mention of Mab’s bones.”
Oak gives me a long look. “You lived in the Ice Needle Citadel for more than a year, so you must know its layout, and you can command Lady Nore. You’re her greatest vulnerability. No matter her other plans, she has good reason to want to eliminate you.”
I shudder at that thought because it should have occurred to me before now. I remember Bogdana’s long nails, the panic of her chasing me through the streets.
“We need you to stop her,” Oak says. “And you need our help to fend off whomever she sends to kill you.”
I hate that he’s right.
“Did you make Lady Nore promise you anything before she left Elfhame?” Tiernan asks hopefully.
I shake my head, looking away in shame. As soon as she was able, Lady Nore slipped off. I never had a chance to tell her anything. And when I realized she was gone, what I felt had been mostly relief.
I think of the words she swore before the High Queen, when Jude demanded she give me her vow: I, Lady Nore, of the Court of Teeth, vow to follow Suren and obey her commands. Nothing about not sticking a dagger in my back, unfortunately. Nothing about not sending a storm hag after me.
Tiernan frowns, as though my failing to give Lady Nore any orders has confirmed his suspicion that I am untrustworthy. He turns to Oak. “You know the grudge Lady Nore bears against Madoc, justified or not. Who knows what slights this one won’t forget.”
“Let’s not discuss my father right at the moment,” Oak returns.
Madoc, the traitor who marched on Elfhame with the Court of Teeth. Before that, the Grand General who was responsible for the slaughter of most of the royal family. And Oak’s foster father.
Madoc had sought to put Oak on the throne, where he could rule through him. Though the crown would have rested on Oak’s head, all the power would have belonged to the redcap. At least until Lord Jarel and Lady Nore tricked Madoc and took over.
I know how precarious it is to be a queen without power, controlled and thoroughly debased. That could have been Oak’s fate. But if the prince bears his father any ill will, it doesn’t show on his face.
Tiernan leans forward to take the metal kettle off the prop stick with a poker, setting it gingerly on a folded-up towel. It steams steadily.
Then he takes out several foam containers of instant ramen from a kitchen cabinet, along with an already-opened box of mint tea. Noticing me looking, he nods toward Oak. “The prince introduced me to this delicacy of the mortal world. Bollockses up your magic for a while—all that salt—but I can’t deny it is addictive.”
The smell makes me recall the satisfaction of something burn-yourmouth hot, something straight from an oven instead of congealed in a garbage bin.
I don’t take one of the noodle cups, but when Oak hands me a mug of tea, I accept that. I stare into the depths and see silt at the bottom. Sugar, he would tell me if I asked, and at least some of it would be, but I can’t be sure the rest isn’t a drug of some kind, or a poison.
They do not want me dead, I try to tell myself. They need me.
And I need them, too, if I want to live. If Lady Nore is hunting me, if Bogdana is helping her, the prince and his companion are my only hope of staying out of reach.
“So, what would you have me to do?” I am proud to get the whole sentence out without my voice cracking.
“Go north with me,” Oak says, sitting on the plastic chair beside mine. “Command Lady Nore to tie a big bow around herself and make a present to Elfhame. We’ll steal back Mab’s bones and end the threat to—”
“With you?” I stare at him, sure I have misunderstood. Princes stay in palaces, enjoying revels and debauchery and the like. Their necks are too valuable to risk.
“And my brave friend Tiernan.” Oak inclines his head toward Tiernan, who rolls his eyes. “Together, the four of us—counting Hyacinthe—will take back the Citadel and end the threat to Elfhame.”
Hyacinthe. So that’s the cursed soldier’s name.
“And when we complete our quest, you can ask a boon of me, and if it is within my power and not too terrible, I will grant it.” I wonder at the prince’s motive. Perhaps ambition. If he delivers Lady Nore, he could ask a boon of his own from the High King and cement his position as heir, effectively cutting any future children out of the line of succession.