Read Online Realm of Mirrors (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 3) by Sonya Bateman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sonya Bateman
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family.”
Okay. That was definitely not what I expected to hear.
Before I could react, Cobalt blurted, “No. You can’t go back there, Uri.”
“Why not? Because they’ll kill me?”
“Yes!”
“Well, they’ve not managed it yet.”
“Uh, guys?” I was still trying to process the idea that Uriskel had offered to help save Taeral, and so far I’d only come to one conclusion—having him on my side was even scarier. “No one has to go with us,” I said. “We just need help getting there.”
“Really,” Uriskel said. “You’ll go to Arcadia, with no knowledge of the place or its people, and challenge the Unseelie Court for their prisoners. Even though neither of you will be welcomed there, and you’ll both be hunted down and likely killed.”
“Yeah, I will.”
He made a gesture at me. “You see?” he said to Cobalt. “ That is why I must go.”
Cobalt drew himself straight and glared at his brother. “Let me go, then,” he said. “I agree they must have a guide, if he’s truly the DeathSpeaker. But not you.”
“And what do you know of the Unseelie Court, brother? ”
“Enough to know they’ll destroy you, or worse!”
Uriskel responded with a sharp, rapid string of Fae that I couldn’t follow at all. I really wished I knew the language. Whatever he said, it turned Cobalt white as a sheet.
“Very well,” Cobalt said in rough tones. “But what am I supposed to tell Trystan?”
“I’ll tell him myself.” There was a slight catch in Uriskel’s voice, but he recovered quickly and looked at me. “Did you have any particular strategy for how to rescue them, DeathSpeaker?” he said.
“Not really. We…Taeral was planning on having us go to Arcadia soon. He wanted to try healing Daoin there, and we were supposed to talk to someone who knew the previous DeathSpeaker,” I said. “Because honestly, I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t even know how to be Fae, much less the DeathSpeaker.”
“Fantastic,” he muttered. “Who did he intend to speak with?”
I shrugged. “He didn’t exactly say.”
“Perhaps the Sluagh knows.” Uriskel half-turned toward the couch with a raised brow. “Well? Any ideas, oh mistress of darkness?”
I finally realized that Nix had gone completely silent and unsmiling, and Shade looked extremely distressed. “The DeathSpeaker,” she whispered. “You’re certain of this?”
“Yeah. Unless there’s some other way to make dead people talk,” I said.
“Gideon…do you know what happened to the last DeathSpeaker?”
“Not a clue.”
“He went insane and slaughtered hundreds in Arcadia,” she said. “He created the Wasteland—left a scar on the realm, burned of all magic. And it took more than two dozen of the most powerful high Fae to bring him down. If you cross the Veil, and anyone realizes what you are…”
My stomach lurched at the idea that anyone could do that. “But I’m not him,” I said.
“It doesn’t matter. Simply being the DeathSpeaker is enough to condemn you.” She turned a solemn gaze to Sadie. “There’s danger for you, as well. Something happens to werefolk in Arcadia. They become…unstable.”
“All right. Enough with the prattling, crystal-ball warnings,” Uriskel said dryly. “Do you know who the Unseelie would have spoken to, or not?”
“Hey, what’s your problem?” I said. “And how would she know what Taeral was thinking, anyway?”
He glowered at me. “Because her kind worships death. If there’s anyone in Arcadia who might’ve had a favorable relationship with the lunatic who held your position before you, it’s a Sluagh.”
“We commune with spirits,” Shade said, glaring right back at him. “And yes, I’ve an idea. You can be polite if you’d like to hear it, Uriskel, or you’ll need to buy me more than a drink to keep me from spilling your little secrets.”
“Fine,” he groaned. “Shade, would you be so kind as to share with me who we might speak to about the
Okay. That was definitely not what I expected to hear.
Before I could react, Cobalt blurted, “No. You can’t go back there, Uri.”
“Why not? Because they’ll kill me?”
“Yes!”
“Well, they’ve not managed it yet.”
“Uh, guys?” I was still trying to process the idea that Uriskel had offered to help save Taeral, and so far I’d only come to one conclusion—having him on my side was even scarier. “No one has to go with us,” I said. “We just need help getting there.”
“Really,” Uriskel said. “You’ll go to Arcadia, with no knowledge of the place or its people, and challenge the Unseelie Court for their prisoners. Even though neither of you will be welcomed there, and you’ll both be hunted down and likely killed.”
“Yeah, I will.”
He made a gesture at me. “You see?” he said to Cobalt. “ That is why I must go.”
Cobalt drew himself straight and glared at his brother. “Let me go, then,” he said. “I agree they must have a guide, if he’s truly the DeathSpeaker. But not you.”
“And what do you know of the Unseelie Court, brother? ”
“Enough to know they’ll destroy you, or worse!”
Uriskel responded with a sharp, rapid string of Fae that I couldn’t follow at all. I really wished I knew the language. Whatever he said, it turned Cobalt white as a sheet.
“Very well,” Cobalt said in rough tones. “But what am I supposed to tell Trystan?”
“I’ll tell him myself.” There was a slight catch in Uriskel’s voice, but he recovered quickly and looked at me. “Did you have any particular strategy for how to rescue them, DeathSpeaker?” he said.
“Not really. We…Taeral was planning on having us go to Arcadia soon. He wanted to try healing Daoin there, and we were supposed to talk to someone who knew the previous DeathSpeaker,” I said. “Because honestly, I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t even know how to be Fae, much less the DeathSpeaker.”
“Fantastic,” he muttered. “Who did he intend to speak with?”
I shrugged. “He didn’t exactly say.”
“Perhaps the Sluagh knows.” Uriskel half-turned toward the couch with a raised brow. “Well? Any ideas, oh mistress of darkness?”
I finally realized that Nix had gone completely silent and unsmiling, and Shade looked extremely distressed. “The DeathSpeaker,” she whispered. “You’re certain of this?”
“Yeah. Unless there’s some other way to make dead people talk,” I said.
“Gideon…do you know what happened to the last DeathSpeaker?”
“Not a clue.”
“He went insane and slaughtered hundreds in Arcadia,” she said. “He created the Wasteland—left a scar on the realm, burned of all magic. And it took more than two dozen of the most powerful high Fae to bring him down. If you cross the Veil, and anyone realizes what you are…”
My stomach lurched at the idea that anyone could do that. “But I’m not him,” I said.
“It doesn’t matter. Simply being the DeathSpeaker is enough to condemn you.” She turned a solemn gaze to Sadie. “There’s danger for you, as well. Something happens to werefolk in Arcadia. They become…unstable.”
“All right. Enough with the prattling, crystal-ball warnings,” Uriskel said dryly. “Do you know who the Unseelie would have spoken to, or not?”
“Hey, what’s your problem?” I said. “And how would she know what Taeral was thinking, anyway?”
He glowered at me. “Because her kind worships death. If there’s anyone in Arcadia who might’ve had a favorable relationship with the lunatic who held your position before you, it’s a Sluagh.”
“We commune with spirits,” Shade said, glaring right back at him. “And yes, I’ve an idea. You can be polite if you’d like to hear it, Uriskel, or you’ll need to buy me more than a drink to keep me from spilling your little secrets.”
“Fine,” he groaned. “Shade, would you be so kind as to share with me who we might speak to about the
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