“Show them that, then. If you go into each of the Realms looking and acting like the lofty Fae overlord, they’re going to reject you. You want to be crowned, don’t you?”
“Yes.” He looked at her, his gaze penetrating. “More than anything.”
She had a sudden desire to reach across the table to him, to take his hand and assure him that this path was right. Years ago, for Sebastian, she would do so, but Rodan was—Rodan. For all that he was, relatively speaking, a perfect gentleman, this was a Fae. A creature from another world. A world she did not know or understand.
“When it comes down to it, you’re getting crowned by the people. The people decide whether or not they want you. Some will, by default, because of the way things have been since Sebastian took over. But others will just wonder if they’re trading in one devil for another. Those are the ones you have to win over.” She leaned back a little and regarded him. “You have a lot on your side. You’re intelligent. You have an eye for the future. You are putting life and limb on the line to help the people. Use that. Leverage it. But don’t be standoffish. You’re not going to be their best friend, but you should at least show that you’ll be fair and listen to their concerns.”
Rodan tilted his head toward he., “I will take what you say under consideration.” A smile spread across his features. “For someone who has no desire to be queen, you excel at reading political situations to your advantage.”
Maeve waved a hand, dismissing him. “This all just comes from time and observation, that’s all.”
He shook his head but said nothing more on the subject.
They continued to speak on little things as the meal wore on. Maeve found herself warming to his company. The day’s climb down the mountain had occurred in near silence as Maeve adjusted to finding herself back in the Realms. It was strange, walking beneath two suns again. Rizor and Tegal twisted across the sky together, close but never touching. Several religions and mythologies sprung up around them, that they were lovers, or gods, or siblings. The stories varied by region.
Maeve did not realize how great her longing for this world was until she came back. The scenic vistas almost brought her to tears. She would pause and close her eyes, listening to the call of birds and the rustling of animals in the brush. From a distance, earlier, they glimpsed the tremendous white-gold bears that inhabited these woods—docile unless threatened—roaming in a pack of more than a dozen.
Years ago, she thought Sebastian would call for her. She wanted to be his queen, to expand upon her deeper feelings for him. But, failing that, Maeve thought that Sebastian would bring her back as an advisor or a confidant. They were close, all those years ago. It seemed like a given, that he wanted her by his side.
Looking at Rodan, Maeve wondered what he wanted of her. Her help, ostensibly, yet what else? Was it her magic he craved, or did he wish to strike at Sebastian through her? If that were the case, he succeeded already. Sebastian, earlier, appeared furious and unsure when Maeve accepted the position of companion.
Even if this were the case, Maeve found herself warming to the deposed king. Something about his presence spoke of safety, of comfort. And something else—something almost dangerous, in its way. Something she had been fleeing most of her life.
Maeve swallowed hard and looked away. No matter what, no matter his intentions, they were companions. And as his companion, Maeve was honor-bound to help him win.
And she had to admit, she wanted him to win. The empty village cemented it. Sebastian would be stopped, one way or the other.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Rodan
MAEVE YAWNED AGAIN, and Rodan shook his head. “We both need our rest. It will be a long day of traveling. Tomorrow, and for many days to come.”
She nodded, hand covering her mouth, and rose on wobbling legs. Rodan stayed put, watching her as she moved around him toward her side of the pavilion. “Goodnight, Rodan.”
“Goodnight.”
With her gone, he cleared the table, allowing the matter to flow back into the ground, becoming soil and rock once more. He dimmed the lights until nothing but a faint red glow illuminated the pavilion, and then sought out his own bed.
While he did not need to sleep as much as a mortal would, exhaustion dragged at his body from the magical expenditures of the day. It took a great deal of energy to cross the veil, and it resisted Maeve worse than it ever resisted Rodan. Whether the Realms found her too old, or unwelcome, or some machination of Sebastian’s foul magic pressed back against them, there was noticeable resistance.
He lay down on the cot and tried to quiet his mind, but Maeve’s proximity kept him on high alert. The partition that he raised was opaque, but not enough to block out sound. He heard her slide into her own bed, and the soft sigh as she settled into the cushions. He wondered what she looked like asleep, with her multicolored hair fanning the pillow and her face losing the tension she carried during her waking hours.
With that image in his mind, his body relaxed, and he slipped away.
The castle, familiar to him and yet foreign, rang with emptiness. The stone walls, black as though a great fire once raged through the halls, were now barren of the hanging tapestries and paintings that once graced them.
Rodan’s boots scraped against the flagstones. He approached a narrow window looking out over a central courtyard. The gardens were gone, blasted into ruin; the central fountain nothing but a pile of blackened rubble.
He scowled. The castle, his home, seemed to reflect the sickness Rodan sensed in Sebastian.
“There you are,” a familiar, slick, slithering voice called.
Rodan turned and beheld his nemesis. His lips drew down. “What are you doing in my dream, Sekou?”
A dream walking was a delicate piece of magic. Had Sebastian truly absorbed this much power? Sebastian possessed a little magic to start with, true, but what he acquired from the throne proved staggering.
Typically, Rodan put up protections over himself while he slept, to prevent outsiders from entering his dreams as the usurper just did. Only exhaustion kept him from raising those shields. What happened to you in a dream walking occurred to you in the waking world.
It made this dangerous.
Rodan faced off against his enemy just as Sebastian folded his arms over his chest and grinned. Rodan hated that smile. It made him want to break every one of Sekou’s perfect teeth and turn his face into pulp. The impulse to maim and kill seemed only to rise in him when in Sebastian’s presence.
“Hey, old man,” the usurper greeted. “We need to talk about your personal challenge. You gave me one once, do you remember?”
“Hardly,” Rodan said, his tone as dry as paper. “You were never worth remembering.”
Sebastian smiled wider. “I recall that it seemed impossible, at the time. But then, you were always arrogant. You challenged me to win the affections of a person from another world. It took a long time, but I found someone and pulled them through. And what a valuable tool she ended up being.”
Rodan remembered now. There were several outlandish personal challenges raised by him over the years. Breathe underwater. Find and ride on the lone unicorn that traveled the entirety of the Five Realms. Build a home on the tip of a mountaintop. Win the affections of a person from another world.