Maeve tried to pull back, but his other arm locked around her, pinning her in place.
His voice, more a growl now, seemed to reverberate through her chest. “Sebastian was the liar. Sebastian steered the Realms toward a fate worse than death.”
She struggled, throwing her weight backward, but Rodan held on, implacable as stone. “You executed children,” she hissed, pounding on his chest with her fists.
“Creatures that may have appeared to be children, yes, but I never would have touched the young,” Rodan said. “Unlike your precious Sebastian.”
She went still. “What?”
His breath fanned her face. “How many ways can I tell you? It seems you must see for yourself.”
She could not say anything more, the breath stolen from her lungs.
The world tipped to the side, like a ship in a storm, and then she fell, her fists clutched in his shirt and her vision turning to black.
CHAPTER FOUR
Maeve
SMELL CAME BACK FIRST. Smoke and pine, crisp air and rotting underbrush. She bought a home in the high Sierras for a reason. It, more than any other place she visited, reminded her of the Five Realms. Reminded her of the place she called home so many times during her teenage years.
Her vision swam back into focus just as her ears began to pick up the sounds of the forest: the calling of magnificent birds, the rhythmic humming cry of insects, and the rushing water of a nearby creek. Her eyes took in the brilliant blue sky and the twin suns, one much smaller than the other.
And then her position came into sharp focus. Her fingers tangled in soft fabric against a hard, warm chest, and a mismatched pair of eyes watching her with an emotion she could not recognize.
Maeve ripped herself out of his arms, stumbling backward and landing on her rump in the small mountain clearing.
Rodan laughed—the first time she ever heard the sound from him—crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at her with an imperious expression that she wanted to slap from his face. Her cheeks warming, she picked herself up off the ground and dusted off her clothes. “Are you quite finished?”
“You give yourself such dignified airs,” he said with a smile. “Tell me. Are you pleased to be back?”
“Switch your allegiance to me, and I will set a crown of silver and moonstones upon your brow. You will be my queen, my consort, equal to me in everything. Rule by my side, and I promise that your every wish will be granted.”
She blinked at him and checked around the clearing. Colorful birds, almost like the birds of paradise found in remote jungles of her world, flitted amongst the tree branches and swooped through the sky. The breeze felt cool and perfect on her skin. No hint of smog or car exhaust.
Just as she remembered, and so much more.
Yet, the company left something to be desired. Maeve took a few steps back from Rodan, wary now that she knew how fast he could strike. Her bare feet sunk in the suns-warmed and spongy earth.” You brought me here, but you can’t make me help you.”
He inclined his head toward her. “You’re right. By the rules of the land, if you are to be my companion in the trials, it must be of your own free will. That’s why I brought you to this particular place. Don’t you recognize it?”
She cast her gaze around the clearing and the woods beyond. They stood in the mountains. “This is the First Realm. Near Ishtem.”
He shook his head. “Yes, but do you not see? Do you not hear?” He walked toward her, and she scurried back. He did not break stride as he brushed by her and moved into the trees.
Maeve hesitated for a moment, and then followed him, stepping cautiously to avoid any sharp pebbles on her bare feet. They entered the woods and followed a narrow trail to another, much larger clearing. Maeve frowned. Ample space in the mountains was uncommon, especially with the trees so dense.
Rodan stopped at the edge of the foliage, his gaze implacable. “What do you see?”
She turned her head, but other than the abnormally wide space, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Before, when she fell into the Realms as a teenager, there always was something out of place. A dragon hunting the land. A plague affecting the population. Villages burning. People screaming. But now? All stillness and quiet. Nothing out of the ordinary.
“I don’t see anything. There are no signs of distress. What am I supposed to be looking for?”
“You see, but do not comprehend,” he scowled and broke through the cover of the trees. He walked without glancing back, stopped, and then knelt, looking behind him to motion Maeve over. She picked her way over the moss and leaves and crouched beside him. Rodan reached out a gloved hand and wiped away the moss and dirt, revealing something rounded and white—
“Is that a skull?” Maeve gasped, jerking back.
He gave her a stern look. “Yes. Come closer.”
Her heart fluttering, she moved back in. Rodan wiped more of the dirt away and then pried the skull out of the ground. Rotting flesh still clung to it in strips, and with a sick twist to her stomach, Maeve realized that the scent of rot that she associated with the usual smells of the forest was something far more sinister.
She held the back of her hand up against her nose and took a deep, shaking breath through her mouth. That was a mistake, for as soon as the air touched her tongue it was coated in cloyingly sweet scent. She gagged and ducked her head.
“It belongs to a child,” Rodan said in a soft voice. “Probably no more than five, six perhaps? What do you think?”
He thrust the skull toward her, and this time Maeve did fall back in her haste to get away. He glowered at her and rose.
“Look at this and tell me, is she thanking you now for removing me from my throne? Is she happier, her life more fulfilled, now that Sebastian Sekou sits on the high seat?” His voice took on a dangerous undertone, and Maeve felt that familiar rush of danger creep over her. “Do you see now? Hear now? What signs of distress are there, you ask me, and yet the Realms welcome you in silence.”
On her hands and knees, looking up at the Fae overlord who haunted some of her darkest dreams and a few of her nightmares, Maeve struggled to process what he told her. She could hear birdsong, and the insects, and the babbling brook, yet—
No people.
She held her breath, listening harder.
Each time she walked these hills and valleys, these mountains and deserts, the sound of people surrounded her. Humans, most of the time, but the Realms hosted many species. Yet, she could hear no skittering footsteps. No laughter or song of the elves as they sang-spoke to one another. No centaurs stomping their hooves, no goblins sharpening their blades, and no humans laughing, crying, talking.
The emptiness rang in her ears. Her fingers sank into the soft earth, and she touched something hard and cold. She shot up, wondering if she just touched something—someone—else.
“He—” she licked her lips, unable to meet the eyes of the creature before her and his barely contained rage. “Sebastian did this?”
“Did it. Let it be done. It depends on the place and the people.” He crouched down and gently returned the skull to its earthen home. He straightened, brushing his gloved hands free of loose soil. “I believe that these people harbored loyalists to my reign. When they wouldn’t give them up, he had the entire village butchered.” He raised his strange eyes to her. “Men, women, and children.” He put specific emphasis on that last word. “It is not the only place he has done this to.”