Auron bent down to grab a beautiful copper watering can standing next to a flowerbed growing bright pink, frilly flowers. I stood a few feet away, waiting for him to finish his task or explain why he’d asked me to come with him. He took his time, though, checking on each bushel to see if it had been overrun by pests and cooing soothing words to those that had grown duller than others. 

“Auron?” I said carefully to remind him of my existence.

“Please sit,” he said, nodding toward a wooden bench tucked under a blooming cherry tree. “I’ll only be a moment.”

I suppressed a sigh and did as he asked. 

A beautiful crimson beetle scuttled along the intricately carved armrest. When it was about to crawl out of sight, I nudged it back with the tip of my finger, feeling not unlike Bean the cat when it toyed with a bug out of boredom. 

Finally, Auron put the watering can down and joined me on the bench. 

“There is a reason I asked you to speak with me alone,” he said. 

“I would assume so. But I think the others can hear us.” 

“Ah, of course. Let me remedy that.”

Invisible force pressed against my eardrums. Then, all sounds surrounding us became muffled. Though Auron had spoken calmly and hadn’t yet been threatening, I was suddenly aware of how alone we were, and a chill skittered down my spine.

“You see, while I doubt Valerien would hurt you willingly, I believe he might expose you to those who would.” 

Auron paused once more, his glimmering, wide eyes searching mine. I nodded for him to continue, feeling only slightly reassured he was apparently doing this to protect me. 

“What stories do your people tell of the fae?” 

I considered the question.

“In Dorotea, we were always told not to go beyond the wall if we didn’t want the fae to find us, and even behind it we weren’t supposed to do anything that might catch their — your — attention.”

Auron nodded solemnly. 

“I assume you have been beyond the wall?”

“I’ve lived north it for most of my life, yes. My mother being half-fae must’ve had something to do with nothing ever happening.”

“Perhaps, but it is more likely there simply weren’t any fae to threaten you.” 

That made more sense. I couldn’t recall any time I’d felt unsafe in the forest, not even during the dark, lonely nights spent in the cottage. 

Except that thing. It felt so long ago now, but the memory of the slain rabbits was still vivid. 

I hesitantly told Auron about it, careful to leave out the details about Sinéad and why I’d been alone out in the woods that night. Recognition lit up his eyes. 

“Yes, I was about to ask whether you’d seen anything strange in those woods as of late. Selena’s scouts have gotten bold.” He chewed his lower lip, brows knitted together, and met my gaze apologetically. “How much do you know of the Court of Hunger?” 

“Only that Valerien is its consul.” 

“That much is true. Though I doubt he shares her ambitions, Queen Selena has made it obvious she wishes to expand her territories. Taking Beauty would provoke Solitude, and taking Ory’s Overgrowth would provoke me. Since she’s out of options, Selena has her sights on Adelheid. The creature you killed was most likely made by one of her consorts, sent south to see how much power it would require to massacre the lot of you and begin her invasion.” 

I stared at my hands, unsure of what to say or how to react. 

I was just one woman trying to save her sister. What was I supposed to do with the knowledge of a coming human-faery war? It was far beyond me, to the point where I could barely imagine what this all meant or why I should care. 

And did he just say he was the sole reason a whole faery court wasn’t attacking the Overgrowth? I had little concept of a court’s strength, but he had the equivalent power of one just by himself. That had some terrifying implications. And yet, he seemed so unassuming. For a fae, at least. 

“If it’s any consolation, by the time Selena decides to invade, any potential grandchildren you might have will probably be dead from old age.” Auron offered me a sheepish smile. 

I tried and failed to think of an appropriate response. His kindness was obvious, but that didn’t make it any less misguided. First he’d informed me my people might be slaughtered to make room for faeries, then he tried to soothe that by saying at least they wouldn’t kill anybody I knew and I personally wouldn’t suffer? 

Auron must’ve realized the implications of his words and cleared his throat. 

“Apologies. I am very old. It is hard to put things into your perspective. The reason I’m telling you this is so that you know the Court of Hunger is dangerous. If they find out that you, a human, have the power to not only resist but kill high fae with your very lifeblood, they might retaliate against you personally. Proximity to one of its subjects, no matter how reluctant, will only increase that risk. We fae do not like to be reminded that we are not invincible.”

“Is that why you didn’t want Valerien to hear this? Won’t he figure it out on his own?” I asked.

Auron shrugged, “He might. But right now, he believes you are special, not dangerous. And he believes I know something that he doesn’t, and that I’m sharing that knowledge with you. That’s what matters. That he believes there’s something about you that makes you worth protecting and away from his court.” 

Oh. So Auron had no answers to my “condition”, but the appearance of having it would keep Valerien guessing and me out of harm’s way. It almost made sense.

“So what do you suggest I do?”

“The safest thing would be to leave and never come back.” 

“I can’t do that.” 

“I figured.” 

He looked away in contemplation, his gaze flitting between the colorful plants and flowers surrounding us.

It was careful when he turned it back to me.

“Has Valerien told you why he needs you?” 

“Uh, well …” Crap. As soon as I hesitated in figuring out how to best lie to Auron, he smiled kindly, knowingly. 

Shame pooled in my cheeks. He was very old, he’d said. Why did I think I’d be able to lie to him?

“I see. It is a shame, that knowledge may have helped you. Admittedly, I know little of his secrets, but I do know he is not happy with his position at the Court of Hunger. Eventually, you may come into contact with it.” His smile faded. “You will likely perish. I’m sorry.” 

I was quite unable to understand how someone who seemed so kind and warm could so casually predict my death. And apparently expect me to take it well. Which I would, because I had no other choice. I couldn’t exactly prove I’d live past this day, let alone survive an encounter with an evil fae court that would want me dead. 

“I appreciate your candor,” I said quietly, relieved it at least didn’t sound sarcastic.

“Of course. I have a feeling your quest is noble. And humans have such brief lives that it always saddens me to see them cut even shorter.”

With that, the conversation was over and we returned to the other fae in thoughtful silence. 

Both Valerien and Ortagon stared at me like I’d committed a crime. Auron didn’t notice, his chipper smile never faltering as he sat at the table to pour himself more tea. Valerien jumped up as if the chair had set his ass on fire. 

“If you two are done, we should head back.”

“You only just arrived,” Auron said with a genuinely hurt expression. 

“No, the boy is right — they should leave.” Ortagon glared at me, making it obvious whom he really wanted gone. 

I didn’t care much for the opinion of a random stranger, especially not when the stranger was a fae, but I couldn’t help but give the man a questioning look. 

His face, though obviously handsome, was stoic and seemed carved from stone with its paleness and defined angles; his dark, narrow eyes were sharp with a perpetual scowl. His hair was a striking mane of curly red that cascaded all the way down to his hips, and the contrast between it and the bright green tunic he was wearing made him quite an eyesore.

I recalled what Auron had said: “Ory’s” Overgrowth. That cursed place belonged to this man. Whatever that meant, my burning a big part of it probably hadn’t done me any favors.

“Is it true you own the Overgrowth?” I asked.

“Sidra,” Valerien warned.

Ortagon, for his part, was unimpressed. “I made it,” he said, jutting his chin out with smug pride.

“Right.” 

We stared at each other. No doubt he was waiting for an apology. But how was I supposed to know?

“Maybe fewer murderous monsters next time?” I suggested. 

“On the other hand, you should leave,” Auron interjected before Ortagon could begin strangling me with a vine. He flew up from his chair to gently nudge me and Valerien back toward the fountain from which we’d emerged. “Of course you’re both free to come back for tea and snacks, but maybe not this week, hmm?”

The fresh winter air was a welcome relief after the garden’s suffocating heat and overwhelming aromas, but the sun had set, and the forest was glowing dark blue as the snow and ice reflected the sky.

Valerien remained silent during our trip back to Sorrow’s Nest. I was surprised he’d stayed with me instead of flying ahead. Maybe it was his way of insulting me, implying he didn’t trust me to find my way back without his gracious help. Or he wanted to ask something but was too stubborn to speak first.

“What was the point of that trip?” I wondered, quickening my step to keep up with him.

“Auron wanted to see you for himself.” Valerien rolled his eyes. “He was curious after everything Ortagon and I told him, I suppose.” 

“Let me guess: Ortagon was your scary friend who chased Severin away with his mere presence?” 

“Yes. His power is diminished, but he is still the creator of the Overgrowth. It listens to and obeys him as a child would its father.” 

I chewed on that for a moment before remembering I hadn’t actually gotten an answer to my first question.

“What did you expect to find out? What was it you asked Auron?”

He gave me a quick glance over his shoulder, eyes narrowed, “I wanted to know how it was possible for you to have iron blood and cast a spell at the same time. And whether it meant something.”

“Does it have to mean something?” 

His upper lip curled, “Have to? No. Could it? Certainly. There is clearly something extraordinary about you.” 

I grinned bitterly. If any other man had said that, I might have been flattered. Coming from Valerien? It was definitely an insult. Even the way he’d said it sounded rude. 

“But whatever Auron knew, he deemed it best not to tell me.” He gave me a pointed glare. “It seems I have wasted my time.” 

That was his passive-aggressive way of asking me to share what Auron had told me. As if I would take pity on his wasted time. As if I was the immortal one.

I shrugged, “Guess so.” 

Valerien’s ears tilted upward and pressed flat against his head, his jaw flexing. He turned away with a petulant scoff and stomped ahead. We arrived at the mansion without exchanging another word. 

I felt a little bad for snubbing him before remembering Auron’s warning: Valerien might not hurt me, but he couldn’t protect me from those who would.