Page 65 of The Unseelie Wish

“I have come to save your life, though it may be too late.” Anfar shook his head. “You are a fool, Duke, to think this mad gambit of yours could possibly succeed.”

“Yeah, but we have a secret weapon.” Izael took Alex’s hand in his and squeezed it gently.

With a huff, Anfar stepped away from the wall. “Her power to change the music of life? Yes, I am certain it is quite a power to reckon with. If she wished it, I am certain even I would cease to be as I am now.”

Izael’s back straightened as he went rigid. “How do you know? Who told you?”

“I find myself in the interesting situation where I am a confidant to both the king and the queen. I cannot tell you how exhausting it is.” Anfar smirked briefly, before his expression faded. “Each knows your witch’s secret. Each believes the other does not. Each works to either take advantage of, or undo, the mess you have made.”

“Great. What a lovely chat. I appreciate you stopping by, Dad.” Izael pulled Alex in the opposite direction of where Anfar was standing. “But we’re busy. We have a tree to murder.”

“Clever plan, convincing Goodfellow to distract him. Even more clever, knowing Puck would go to Bayodan for assistance in such a matter. But you will not succeed,” Anfar called after them. “Do you truly wish to die here, Izael?”

Izael muttered something unkind under his breath but ignored the other Unseelie. When they ducked around a corner and were out of the line of sight of Anfar, he turned to her. “Which way, songbird?” There was panic in his expression, however—the window of opportunity for their success was rapidly shrinking right in front of their eyes.

Shutting her eyes, she listened. It was hard to tell which direction to go, with that great and terrible organ filling the stone halls from both left and right. Was one way louder than the other? Was it even possible to tell?

Holding out her hand, she tried to quiet the rest of the music. Tried to single out that deep bellowing roar.

Rocks had no music. They were not alive. The stones around her couldn’t help her at all. But the vines and the moss could. She tried to picture them like the instruments in an orchestra. All arranged in their sections, all obeying the commands of the conductor.

And that conductor was the pipe organ.

Show me where. The vines and moss around her weren’t sentient, not truly. They were all connected, though. And listening to the trace of one whispering flute as it merged with another gave her a sense of the whole. She tried to picture it in her mind’s eye. Tried to lay out the sections and follow them all back to the center.

Left.

They should go left.

Opening her eyes, she headed that way at a jog—there was no wasting time. Izael trailed behind her.

They reached a small courtyard-like area in the stone structure. It broke off in six directions around them.

Anfar was once more waiting for them. “What is your game, Duke? What are you after? You know you cannot win.”

Izael sighed. “Nice of you to finally care about my decisions. A little late, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps.” The sea monster masquerading as a man shut his all-black eyes. “You think she can destroy Valroy, once and for all.”

“Either that, or we die.”

“But why? To spare the Seelie? To spare the humans?” Anfar turned his attention back to Izael, his expression bemused. “This is not like you.”

“Funny how love can change us.” Izael grimaced. “Ask that selkie of yours.”

Anfar’s expression smoothed as he looked at Alex. “He is willing to be destroyed in your name. For what reason? So you do not feel the burden of the deaths of others? It is not the nature of the Unseelie to care about such things.”

“Don’t think I don’t feel guilty about all this.” She shook her head.

“Do you love him?”

“Doesn’t matter right now.” She pulled Izael down one of the six paths, letting the music guide her. “Sorry,” she said to Anfar as they passed him. “This isn’t how anybody wanted this to work out.”

Nobody except maybe Valroy. And even then, the whole point of this misadventure was to deny the Unseelie King what he wanted. Everybody was going to lose—just some more than others.

She supposed the innocent lives they were sparing were getting a win out of this, but they’d go along blissfully unaware of how close they were to supernatural war.

A third crossroads, and Anfar was there, once more waiting.