Ruenen winked. “Your magic likes me.”
Marai let go of his hand and scowled at him. This made Ruenen grin wider.
“Stop playing around,” she snapped. “This isn’t going to be easy. Remember, my people are afraid of humans. They hold a lot of anger and resentment towards your kind. I need you to do as I say.”
Ruenen swept his arm out in a grand gesture. “After you, my lady.”
Marai rolled her eyes and led him down the ravine. The portal had dropped them outside of the borders of the fae territory. She didn’t want to magically appear in the cave and scare them all. Marai knew this encounter was not without risk.
“I trekked through the Badlands a few years ago after leaving Chiojan. It’s hard to imagine you growing up in this place,” said Ruenen, turning around to take in every angle of the canyon. “I always pictured faeries living in the woods amongst lots of green plants.”
Marai felt a thrum of magic pulse through her. Keshel’s barrier was near. “The deserts of the West aren’t our natural habitat, but we’ve been forced to make do.”
There it was—invisible, but Marai caught the slight shimmer in the light. She placed her hand upon the barrier. Her magic met Keshel’s and the shield fluctuated and fluttered. Marai dismantled it with minimal force, which meant Keshel was letting her pass through. Ruenen raised an eyebrow. He was unable to see or sense the barrier.
What would her family think of Ruenen and her plan? Marai’s stomach twisted into knots. So much was riding on this introduction and discussion. Marai hoped Ruenen wouldn’t do anything stupid, and that Leif wouldn’t say anything offensive. She didn’t know if she trusted either of them.
This is a bad idea . . .
Ruenen stepped closer to Marai as they passed into fae territory. “I can feel it.”
“What?”
“The magic,” said Ruenen, “it’s making the hair on my arms stand on end.” He shoved up his sleeve and showed Marai the goose bumps.
A figure leapt from a high rock and landed cat-like in front of them. Raife raised his bow, but lowered it when he recognized the intruder.
“Marai?” he asked, emerald eyes traveling over Ruenen. “Who . . . is that . . .?”
She nodded. “We’re here to talk.”
Raife was about the same height as Ruenen. They regarded each other with cautious curiosity. Ruenen’s gaze flew to Raife’s pointed ears. He wasn’t used to the appearance of someone more traditionally fae, unlike Marai whose ears were rounded and human.
Raife’s eyes snapped to the knife at Ruenen’s hip.
Ruenen raised his hands in submission. “I come as a friend.” His voice was light, but wary. “Here, you can take my knife. I have no other weapons on me.” He held out the small blade, but Raife didn’t take it.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to bring him here?” Raife asked Marai.
“Since she won’t introduce me, my name is Ruenen,” Ruenen said, and held out his hand.
Marai and Raife stiffened. Raife stared at the outstretched hand as if it was a rattlesnake that had ventured into his bed. But slowly, he reached out and gently took Ruenen’s hand.
“Raife,” he said and dropped his arm. Out of all of the family to meet first, Marai was glad it was him. “We didn’t expect you to come back so soon.”
“Plans changed,” Marai said and started out towards the cave.
“I should go first . . . to let them all know you’re here,” Raife said with a glance at Ruenen, then dashed off down the valley. He skidded when he reached the mouth of the cave in the distance and disappeared inside.
“This is exciting,” Ruenen said with a mischievous grin, that reckless part of him came shining through. “My first diplomatic mission.”
“Let me do most of the talking,” said Marai. “Leif and Aresti are as temperamental as I am. They won’t hesitate to wring your neck if they deem you a threat.”
“I’ve had plenty of experience with you. I think I can handle them. I need to knock them off-balance with my wit and charm.”
Marai gave him a look and Ruenen laughed. It was a sound she hadn’t realized she had desperately missed. A warm beam of sunshine, it cut straight through to her soul. She let the ghost of a smile appear.
“Alright, I’ll sit prettily to the side then,” said Ruenen, putting his hands into his pockets and whistled “The Lady Butcher.”
Marai huffed, eliciting another peal of laughter from Ruenen. She wanted to take his hand then, to latch onto that merry sound and never let it go.
Instead, she asked, “How are you feeling now?
Ruenen’s jovial whistling stopped. He drew his lips into a thin line. “Still angry. Still horribly sad. I’m trying not to think about it. If I do, I’ll end up running away again, and that would make me feel even more of a fraud. I don’t know who I am anymore. But maybe I can manage to right these wrongs if I defeat Tacorn.”
Marai wished there was a way to ease his pain, but she knew the way to help him was to move forward, ensure his ascension to the throne and defeat Rayghast. She had to start somewhere.
“You’re not a fraud,” Marai said sternly. “You aren’t who you thought you were, but you deserve to be king. You’ve still earned it.”
Ruenen gave her a weak smile, then went back to whistling, with less enthusiasm than before.
They reached the mouth of the cave. Magic wafted out from the cavern, heightened, defensive. Her family was preparing within.
Taking a deep breath, Marai entered the tunnel; Ruenen’s arm grazed hers with each step. The tunnel opened wider to reveal the cavern and six extremely perturbed faeries.
All of them stood on the far side, but not in the way they would for a respectful greeting. No, the fae’s stances were defensive, faces dubious. Leif and Aresti’s hands were full of weapons, while Keshel’s faced palm-out, ready to unleash his magic if necessary. Thora and Kadiatu each held a kitchen knife in their fists. Marai saw the fear on their faces, the worry, the bitterness.
Ruenen bowed deeply, opening his arms wide. “Greetings, friends.”
