The happy burbles of the stream filled the responding quiet. The dark fae seemed to fight an uncomfortable internal battle. The men looked to Gadriel, their general, as their spokesperson. Amaris had offered the purpose of her dispatch many nights ago, but they had yet to reveal theirs.

It was clear that their honesty rested solely on the shoulders of the general. After far too much time had passed, Gadriel exhaled slowly and looked at Amaris.

“King Ceres believes he has a son.”

Ash and Malik looked expectantly at Amaris for the translation, but her brows were knit together in a study of Gadriel’s face. Her interpretation came out as a reiterated question, asking them for an explanation.

She repeated, “The king has a son?”

The reevers discussed this information while she continued to search the general’s expression.

Maybe it wasn’t that they had expected him to reveal this information, but his men continued to trade looks. Zaccai’s eyes briefly touched hers but quickly looked away, allowing the general to continue to speak for them. She felt a strange pinch of discomfort for the first time that night, but she didn’t know why.

“We’ve been searching for the child since it was born. Something about its birth seemed to set off the curse.”

She tested the words carefully, rolling them back and forth in her mouth, repeating herself as she worked out the material.

“The king has a son, and his child is the reason for your curse in Farehold. The king has an heir in Farehold. The curse is a result of his heir?”

Zaccai shrugged, still not meeting her eyes.

“It would seem that way. The curse is about twenty years old, so we expect the heir should be in his twenties, if he lives at all.”

Uriah, who hadn’t spoken all night, was quiet as he said, “If the son had died, the curse would have broken.”

“We don’t know that the curse and the heir are related,” grumbled Silvanus.

“If they aren’t, then that’s one hell of an unfortunate coincidence,” Amaris mused.

“What else do we know?” Malik asked. He looked at the creatures but kept his question on Amaris. “Why would his son be in Farehold and not in Raascot? Was it a stolen baby? Is this a witch’s dealings?”

Gadriel was the only one who maintained unwavering eye contact while the other fae looked into the fire. “The king believes it to be hidden somewhere in the southern kingdom. It would seem that this curse is a way to prevent him from ever being reunited with the heir to his throne.”

Amaris conveyed the message.

Malik’s mouth tugged down. Gadriel had sidestepped several parts of his question.

“What of the mother?” asked Malik.