I tucked away my fear. “Everyone at the Spring Court is stuck wearing a mask, and yet you aren’t,” I said cautiously. “Are you not a member of the Court?”

“I am a member of no Court. I am older than the High Lords, older than Prythian, older than the bones of this world.”

Lucien had definitely overestimated my abilities. “And what can be done about this blight that has spread in Prythian, stealing and altering the magic? Where did it come from?”

“Stay with the High Lord, human,” the Suriel said. “That’s all you can do. You will be safe. Do not interfere; do not go looking for answers after today, or you will be devoured by the shadow over Prythian. He will shield you from it, so stay close to him, and all will be righted.”

That wasn’t exactly an answer. I repeated, “Where did the blight come from?”

Those milky eyes narrowed. “The High Lord does not know that you came here today, does he? He does not know that his human woman came to trap a Suriel, because he cannot give her the answers she seeks. But it is too late, human—for the High Lord, for you, perhaps for your realm as well …”

Despite all that it had said, despite its order to stop asking questions and stay with Tamlin, it was his human woman that echoed in my head. That made me clench my teeth.

But the Suriel went on. “Across the violent western sea, there is another faerie kingdom called Hybern, ruled by a wicked, powerful king. Yes, a king,” he said when I raised a brow. “Not a High Lord—there, his territory is not divided into courts. There, he is law unto himself. Humans no longer exist in that realm—though his throne is made of their bones.”

That large island I’d seen on the map, the one that hadn’t yielded any lands to humans after the Treaty. And—a throne of bones. The cheese I’d eaten turned leaden in my stomach.

“For some time now, the King of Hybern has found himself unhappy with the Treaty the other ruling High Fae of the world made with you humans long ago. He resents that he was forced to sign it, to let his mortal slaves go and to remain confined to his damp green isle at the edge of the world. And so, a hundred years ago, he dispatched his most-trusted and loyal commanders, his deadliest warriors, remnants of the ancient armies that he once sailed to the continent to wage such a brutal war against you humans, all of them as hungry and vile as he. As spies and courtiers and lovers, they infiltrated the various High Fae courts and kingdoms and empires around the world for fifty years, and when they had gathered enough information, he made his plan. But nearly five decades ago, one of his commanders disobeyed him. The Deceiver. And—” The Suriel straightened. “We are not alone.”

I drew my bow farther but kept it pointed at the ground as I scanned the trees. But everything had already gone silent in the presence of the Suriel.

“Human, you must free me and run,” it said, those death-filled eyes widening. “Run for the High Lord’s manor. Do not forget what I told you—stay with the High Lord, and live to see everything righted.”

“What is it?” If I knew what came, I could stand a better chance of—

“The naga—faeries made of shadow and hate and rot. They heard my scream, and they smelled you. Free me, human. They will cage me if they catch me here. Free me and return to the High Lord’s side.”

Shit. Shit. I lunged for the snare, making to put away my bow and grab my knife.

But four shadowy figures slipped through the birch trees, so dark that they seemed made from a starless night.

Chapter 15

The naga were sprung from a nightmare. Covered in dark scales and nothing more, they were a horrendous combination of serpentine features and male humanoid bodies whose powerful arms ended in polished black, flesh-shredding talons.

Here were the creatures of the blood-filled legends, the ones that slipped through the wall to torment and slaughter mortals. The ones I would have been glad to kill that day in the snowy woods. Their huge, almond-shaped eyes greedily took in the Suriel and me.

The four of them paused across the clearing, the Suriel between us, and I trained my arrow toward the one in the center.

The creature smiled, a row of razor-sharp teeth greeting me as a silvery forked tongue darted out.

“The Dark Mother has sent us a gift today, brothers,” he said, gazing at the Suriel, who was clawing at the snare now. The naga’s amber eyes shifted toward me again. “And a meal.”

“Not much to eat,” another one said, flexing its claws.

I began backing away—toward the stream, toward the manor below, keeping my arrow pointed at them. One scream from me would notify Lucien—but my breath was thin. And he might not come at all, if he’d sent me here. I kept every sense fixed on my retreating steps.

“Human,” the Suriel begged.

I had ten arrows—nine, once I fired the one nocked in my bow. None of them ash, but maybe they’d keep the naga down long enough for me to flee.

I backed away another step. The four naga crept closer, as if savoring the slowness of the hunt, as if they already knew how I tasted.

I had three heartbeats to make up my mind. Three heartbeats to execute my plan.

I drew my bowstring back farther, my arm trembling.

And then I screamed. Sharp and loud and with every bit of air in my too-tight lungs.

With the naga now focused entirely on me, I fired at the tether holding the Suriel in place.

The snare shattered. Like a shadow on the wind, the Suriel was off, a blast of dark that set the four naga staggering back.

The one closest to me surged toward the Suriel, the strong column of its scaly neck stretching out. No chance of my movements being considered an unprovoked attack anymore—not now that they’d seen my aim. They still wanted to kill me.

So I let my arrow fly.

The tip glittered like a shooting star through the gloom of the forest. I had all of a blink before it struck home and blood sprayed.

The naga toppled back just as the remaining three whirled to me. I didn’t know if it was a killing shot. I was already gone.

I raced for the stream using the path I’d calculated earlier, not daring to look back. Lucien had said he’d be nearby—but I was deep in the woods, too far from the manor and help.

Branches and twigs snapped behind me—too close—and snarls that sounded like nothing I’d heard from Tamlin or Lucien or the wolf or any animal filled the still woods.

My only hope of getting away alive lay in outrunning them long enough to reach Lucien, and then only if he was there as he’d promised to be. I didn’t let myself think of all the hills I would have to climb once I cleared the forest itself. Or what I would do if Lucien had changed his mind.

The crashing through the brush became louder, closer, and I veered to the right, leaping over the stream. Running water might have stopped the Suriel, but a hiss and a thud close behind told me it did nothing to hold the naga at bay.

I careened through a thicket, and thorns ripped at my cheeks. I barely felt their stinging kisses or the warm blood sliding down my face. I didn’t even have time to wince, not as two dark figures flanked me, closing in to cut me off.

My knees groaned as I pushed myself harder, focusing on the growing brightness of the woods’ end. But the naga to my right rushed at me, so fast that I could only leap aside to avoid the slashing talons.