A Strange Hymn by Laura Thalassa
Chapter 17
Several hours later, after many death threats (both to and from Temper), a near incarceration, and a whole lot of explaining, Temper and I are with Des and Malaki in one of the Bargainer’s private rooms.
Temper crosses her heels over the armrest of the wingback chair she’s in, her back resting against the other armrest. “So let me get this straight: you two—” she points to me and Des, “are soulmates, but you couldn’t get together for a stupidly long time because this one—” now she points to me, “made some mad-ass wish. And right after you both finally got together, she—” me again, “was thrown into a fae prison, and some psycho king decided to give her wings,”—and scales and claws—“and then you—” she points to Des, “offed that motherfucker, but now you—” me again, “are stranded here.”
“She’s not stranded here,” Des says darkly. He sits in another chair, his forearms resting heavily on his thighs.
Temper harrumphs. “Like she can just waltz her feathery ass around L.A.”
Malaki steps forward. “Why don’t we talk about the more pressing issue at the moment: you obliterated one of the Fauna Kingdom’s portals and held a fairy hostage.”
Temper folds her arms, eyeing the fairy up and down. “If you want an apology, you’re looking at the wrong girl, compadre.”
A knock on the door interrupts the conversation. Des waves his wrist, and the door opens.
The fairy on the other side bows. “My king,” he says. “Lord, ladies.” He dips his head to each of us before returning his attention to Des. “There are Fauna fae soldiers at the palace gates. They’re demanding the sorceress’s arrest.”
And that marks another attempt at incarceration.
Des rubs his chin. “I refuse to hand her over,” he says.
“My king—” the fairy begins.
“The sorceress is an honored guest and thus has my protection and that of my kingdom,” he says. His eyes flick to mine. “Any damages her arrival has incurred will be paid in full from my personal coffers.”
My breath catches. He’s so obviously doing this for me.
Just when I thought it was impossible to love him more …
Malaki’s eyebrows go up. He assesses Temper, who’s giving him a look like she wouldn’t mind getting a taste of him for dinner.
The fairy standing in the doorway hesitates, then bows. “Very well. I’ll let them know.”
After the door closes, the room falls into silence.
Finally, Temper clears her throat. “I suppose you want me to say thank you,” she says, picking at a stray piece of lint on the chair.
The fact that Des offered Temper his protection … I’m not sure he realizes that’s kind of a big deal for her. Temper is used to being judged and condemned, not given the benefit of the doubt.
“Now you must make a showing at Solstice,” Malaki interrupts. “You’re going to need to prove to the other kingdoms that you’re still a faithful ally. Otherwise, this could mark the beginnings of war.”
Des rubs his face. For once he seems like a weary king.
Sensing that he has sway over Des, the Lord of Dreams steps forward. “If you attend Solstice and show them that you are the same ruler you’ve always been, it will go a long way to cooling tensions.”
Des doesn’t say anything for a minute, just ponders Malaki’s words.
Those hypnotic, silver eyes of his meet mine. I can tell he’s torn between protecting me and protecting his kingdom. It shakes me to my core to matter that much to someone.
“I don’t need protecting,” I say.
“From these fairies you might,” Des mutters. Finally, reluctantly, he nods. “Alright, I’ll go—we’ll all go.” His eyes sweep over the room, touching on Malaki, then me, then—shockingly—Temper.
She’s coming too?
Temper looks pleased. “Sounds good to me. Consider me this one’s rib,” she says, jerking her chin in my direction.
It hits me, really hits me, then: Des means to take me and a hot-headed sorceress to a place where mortals are slaves. We’ll have to respect their archaic laws, laws that subjugate humans.
I suppress a swallow. What have we gotten ourselves into?
