Cannibalism as a way to increase one's power. I had never heard of it, nor had I even thought it possible. The fact that my cousin was eating people made me a little bit sick.

"It's not a proven method," Marianno continued. "However, there are recorded instances in our history where it supposedly worked. No one knows if it really does."

"It does not," Arthur said. "It's an old wives' tale. Many have tried it and failed to come up with any results. However, desperation makes people do idiotic things."

"Do people know about this?" I asked. "Why wasn't he punished? or stopped?"

Marianno smiled. "He's a member of the royal family."

Right. How dare I suggest that an esteemed member of the royal line be punished for cannibalism?

I tried my best to push the disgust aside and looked at Arthur. "So why did you tell me not to get my hopes up?"

"Because Ryan is desperate, and a cunning bastard. There is no way he's going to volunteer information out of the goodwill of his heart. He will most likely want to make some kind of deal."

"Then there's a possibility that he's just making things up to get what he wants," I said.

"He's not that stupid. He knows that if I caught him lying, I would make his death very slow and torturous," Arthur said, his voice sending a shiver down my spine. His magic stretched, a dragon coming to life. Irene held her breath next to me. Noah's eyes turned a glowing shade of amber.

Arthur was already in a bad mood after this morning's attack. Whoever got in his way today would be minced meat.

"Oooh. Very scary, your lordship," I said. His magic settled down. Much better.

"Incoming," Noah mumbled.

I turned my head slightly. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw a rider heading straight for us. My father's magic brushed against my senses. I turned fully toward him, Arthur stepped up next to me.

My father had changed from his suit into all black riding clothes. I didn't know much about horses, but even I could see how beautiful his ride was. Its shining coat was a soft tan color, the legs, mane and muzzle were a darker brown, almost black. Its coloring reminded me of a siamese cat.

The horse's powerful muscles flexed under the silky coat. It danced in place as my father pulled it to a stop near us. My father dismounted.

"This is a fine horse," Arthur said. He stepped forward, slowly raised his hand and petted the horse's graceful neck.

"She is." My father smiled, scratching the mare's neck. The animal nickered, and lowered her head to Orion's jacket. He chuckled. "No carrots. Not right now."

The mare shook her head and straightened. Soulful dark eyes met mine, framed by thick sooty lashes. My magic stretched, fascinated by the beautiful animal. I shook my head.

"Do you ride, Elle?" my father asked.

"I do ride, just not horses."

As soon as I said it, I knew how that sounded. Arthur's end of the bond exploded with laughter, yet his face remained stoic. I shot him a glare.

Get your mind out of the gutter.

Irene, slightly behind me, was having a coughing fit. Amused, wasn't she? My face heated up. Fortunately, my father was more mature than my friend and my mate.

"Cars," I said. "I ride cars, motorcycles. Not horses."

"You should learn, then," Orion said. "I was hoping to get you for a few hours. I want to show you around."

"Sure," I said and turned to Arthur. "You have some business to attend to, right?"

I wanted to have a chat with my father in private. I had many questions, and I had an inkling he would be more likely to answer if Arthur wasn't around..

What are you doing?

Arthur's voice filled my head, crystal clear. Unlike him, sending a thought required focus and a great deal of effort on my part. So I smiled at my dad, "Excuse us for a moment." and pulled Arthur aside. Diplomatic, that's me.

We walked until I was sure no one would hear us and whispered. "My dad doesn't like you."

"You don't say," he said.

I rolled my eyes. "He might be more forthcoming about information if you aren't around."

He didn't like it. After this morning's attack, his paranoia had increased ten fold. He didn't want me out of his sight.

I poked his ribs. "He won't hurt me. I'll take Irene and Noah along."

His jaw clenched. "Very well. And Charles."

"That will leave you with only Marianno for backup."

He looked at me like I was an idiot. Right. How dare I suggest he needed backup? "Fine. I'll take them."

"Of course you will," he said. "Keep your guard up and leave the bond open."

I chuckled. "Oh, that's rich, coming from you."

He didn't laugh. His eyes fixed on something over my shoulder. I turned and looked at my father. He was in conversation with Noah.

"I don't trust anyone with your life," Arthur said, bringing my attention back to him.

"Even my father?"

"Especially your father."

I raised my brows. I didn't trust my father, either. But I didn't trust strangers, on principle, and my father was only a friendly acquaintance in my book. I didn't know him all that well, and what I knew of him didn't inspire confidence.

I didn't actually believe he was involved in my mother's death. At least, not directly. But his blind trust in his people, the belief that the fae would never betray him, might be what caused her demise.

I sighed. "I'll be careful. You too, be careful."

He pulled me to him, squeezing the breath out of me. I groaned against his chest. "You'll suffocate me to death and save our enemies the trouble."

He eased his hold, kissed my head and let go.

*** **** ***

I stared at the horse. The horse stared back at me.

"Can you ride?" I asked Irene.

My father had four horses brought for us. Arthur and Marianno went on their way back inside the castle. I hoped Marianno would find something useful. His gift could come in very handy.

And wasn't I a hypocrite? I was uncomfortable with him using his gift. Yet when it served our purpose, I had no trouble giving him a leeway. I sighed. I just hoped we got this mess over and done with before my moral lines got any more murky.

"I can ride horses, yes," Irene whispered with a cheeky smile. I gave her a look. She wouldn't let me live down that one.

"I had ordered four horses brought here before I knew you couldn't ride," my father said, petting a chestnut horse's neck. "You should ride with me, then."

Yeah. No way. "I'll give it a shot," I said.

"That wouldn't be wise," he replied with a frown. "It's not safe."

Has he met me before? I looked at Noah and Charles. "What about you guys?"

Charles gave me a look and swung on his horse. The reddish brown animal danced in place, but settled rather quickly. Charles looked very comfortable in the saddle.

Noah, on the other hand, looked like he'd just bitten something sour, which was quite a feat considering his face usually had the expressive ability of a stone statue.

"I'll shift," he said, his scars standing out in sharp relief against the gold of his skin.

"Airplanes and horses." I grinned. "What else are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of airplanes, simply uncomfortable," he said.

"What about horses?"

He scowled. "I don't trust them."

"Aha. Keep telling yourself that."

Noah growled low and disappeared behind the trees.

I chuckled. Irene went for a docile looking bay horse. She grabbed the reins and scratched the animal's neck, making soothing sounds. I watched closely as she put the ball of her foot in the stirrup, and swung on the horse in one fluid motion. It looked easy enough.

I approached the chestnut whose reins my father held. The horse's ears flickered. It looked taller upclose. I touched the horse's neck.

My magic burst forward and surrounded the animal, a shroud of energy blanketing him. The horse shifted on its hooves, his tail swishing. My hand spasmed on the brown velvety coat. For a fraction of a second, it felt like a string came to life between my heart and the horse's. The string stretched taut, bringing with it a pulse of pain.

Then it disappeared.

I blinked, feeling slightly dizzy and off-kilter. Everything was back to normal. Had I imagined it?

The horse snorted and pushed his head against my side. I smiled. Cute.

My father stepped closer and explained the process of riding a horse to me. He looked worried that I might hurt myself. I didn't know whether to feel all warm and fuzzy because he cared, or to feel insulted because he thought riding a horse would pose a danger to me. I decided on the former.

He'd probably have an apoplexy if he saw me sparring with Arthur or Irene.

I heaved myself on top of the saddle. I almost went flying to the other side of the horse. My heart sputtered. Ugh, that would have been so embarrassing. Charles would have loved it.

The horse danced beneath me. Wow. The ground looked much farther away than I expected. I was used to climbing trees, so the height didn't scare me. Except that trees didn't move around.

"The horse can feel your unease," my father said.

I made shushing sounds between my efforts to keep my balance on the saddle. It took me a few minutes to get used to the feeling, by then all three of us had mounted, and a big, black wolf emerged from the trees.

"Damn, you're big," I mumbled. Noah's scars were clear on his wolf's face; three slashes where the black fur was scarce.

He stood almost six feet tall. The muscle roiling beneath his black fur made it clear he could flatten me to the ground with one swipe of that giant paw. Fighting him would be a pain in the ass. I didn't know whether I could take him or not. No wonder Arthur wanted to have him around. Just looking at him made one have second thoughts about approaching us.

Noah flashed me his teeth and looked around. The fae who'd brought the horses looked green in the face. He took the reins of the spare horse, bowed to my father and all but ran away.

The people milling about in the gardens looked on with expressions ranging from fascination to fear. The fae were very wary of outsiders. There weren't many shapeshifters in Ireland, probably no wolves since they lived in packs, and the fae wouldn't allow part of their land to belong to a race other than the fae.

"Let's go." My father's horse led the way, and the rest of our rides followed willingly. It took me a short while to figure out the rhythm of the horse's movement in order to sit steady in the saddle. My father and Irene kept giving me pointers. Once I was comfortable, riding turned out to be quite fun.

There was something odd with my magic, however. Not the flames. But the part of my magic that awakened with the phoenixes. It felt as though I could almost touch the horse's mind, if that was at all possible. But I couldn't put my finger on how to do it. Was I going insane?

Maybe Arthur would know something about it. I would ask him later. I put the thought aside for now and focused on my surroundings.

My father slowed his horse down to walk beside mine. Irene and Charles were on either side of us, sitting straight and alert on the saddle, far enough to give us privacy but close enough to interfere should my father suddenly decide to commit filicide. I caught glimpses of Noah nearby through the trees. The trees were thicker here, and other than the occasional vampire or fae guard, no one was around.

"Is he treating you well?" my father asked, his blond hair catching a stray ray of sunshine filtering through the green canopy.

"He's chaining me in his dungeons at night and feeding me rats and mice," I replied.

My father's horrified expression made me laugh.

"Really?" I said. "Do I look like I'm going to take anyone's shit."

He grunted. "No, you do not. I believe I have Robert to thank for that."

"Yep."

"But Arthur is one of the Five. Powerful beings, such as him, have very few taboos."

"What are you implying?"

"Nothing. I simply want you to know that if Arthur hurts you, I will be here for you. He might be one of the Five, but I'm your father and I was once the fae king."

I was slightly irritated that he'd believe Arthur would ever hurt me. But then I remembered that the rest of the world didn't know him as intimately I did. He was one of the bogeymen in our world, and we didn't have that many.

So I gave my father a nod. "I'll keep it in mind."

We moved in silence for several minutes. The shadows were cold and the breeze tickled my nose. Occasionally we'd go through a spot of sunlight. It was peaceful here, unlike the tense atmosphere in the castle. I breathed in deeply, wishing I could hold onto these peaceful moments. But we were here for a reason.

I had so many questions for my father, so many things I wanted to know. But I had to be careful. Any hint of a suspicious topic and he might clam up on me. We needed as much information as we could.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"You'll see." My father smiled, and it was sad.

"Father, you told me before that you are able to feel the other fae's magic if they used it."

His smile brightened. "You called me father."

"Well, you are," I grumbled, feeling embarrassed for some reason.

"Indeed. And yes, I do feel lesser fae's magic," he said. "It's easier when we're outside Ireland since there aren't many fae. Here, it would be difficult to pinpoint the origin of the magic user since we're surrounded by fae, and someone is always using their magic. You can do it, too, but you need training."

"What do you mean by lesser fae?" I didn't like the term.

Orion sighed. "It sounds like a pejorative term, but it is not meant to be. The term refers to the fae outside the royal line. I can only feel the magic of those who work for me in some capacity or people I've met before, but not if they belong to the royal line."

Huh. Back in Paris, the fae who'd attempted to murder me was killed by another fae; an earth elementalist. My father said that he hadn't felt anyone from his company use their magic. So we assumed that whoever killed my attempted murderer was someone who came to Paris on their own, someone unrelated to my father in any capacity. It could also be someone from the royal line, but there was no such person in Paris at the time. None that we knew of anyway.

"So people of the royal line are exempt from the rule," I said.

"Yes," my father said.

The next question I asked would be quite tricky. How should I go about it? Find a diplomatic way to say it, Elle. A discrete way. Hmm...

I came up blank. Oh, heck. "Is Amelia part of the royal line?"

My father frowned. "She is, actually. Her mother is a distant cousin of my grandfather. Is this about the attack in Paris?"

There was no point in lying. "Yes."

My father's jaw clenched. "The fae who attempted to kill you was killed by an earth elementalist, and Amelia is one. You're suspecting her."

I sighed. "I'm just keeping all possibilities in mind."

Amelia was a powerful earth elementalist. There was a good chance she was the one who killed that fae. Which meant she could be involved up to her eyeballs in this entire mess.

"That is ridiculous," My father said. "Amelia is my mate. She's my friend, and has been for a long time. She cannot possibly be involved in this."

"Why can't she be involved?" I asked.

"I would have known," he said, his face mutinous.

My temper flared. "That's not a reason."

"Yes, it is. I trust her."

Ugh. "You trust everyone who is fae!"

"They're my people!"

"They're not angels! They're not absolved of making mistakes!"

"They're not. But that doesn't mean I will doubt them whenever I cannot find a culprit. And certainly not Amelia."

Ugh. He was so unreasonably stubborn. Talking to him was like banging my head against a wall.

Arthur's end of the bond pulsed with concern. He could probably feel my frustration. I took a deep breath and focused on my breathing. In and out. In and out. I hadn't realized that my gum ached. Damn it. I had to be careful.

Irene cleared her throat loudly. I glanced at her. Her eyes were fixed on something down the road. There was a turn coming up. Seconds later, the distinct sound of hooves reached my ears.

"A witch," she whispered so only I could hear. My father was a pure fae, so his hearing wasn't as sensitive as mine.

My father was quietly brewing as we turned. A lone rider trotted down the road, a black cloak fluttered in the wind behind him. He slowed his pace when he saw us.

"Ah, good timing," my father said, bringing his horse to a stop. My ride followed suit. "This is someone you must meet."

The male witch brought his mount to a stop.

The horse's coat was velvet dark except for a white blaze down the middle of his face. Her face. She was a mare. I knew she was a mare like I knew my horse was male. How did I know that? I had no freaking clue, but my senses were quite certain of it.

The witch bowed his head to my father, his dark hair falling like silk around his shoulders. He raised his head and I blinked. Irene blew a low whistle. I understood the sentiment. The man was striking.

His skin was an even, deep olive tone. Pale gray eyes stood out sharply in contrast with his skin and dark hair. They were deep set, slanted upward. With a hookish nose, slightly thin lips and high cheekbones, he would be considered quite handsome.

His vague ethnicity and dark looks gave him a mysterious feel, which only added to his allure. Looking at him, I could understand Irene's fascination, but I felt nothing.

My type leaned more toward dark eyed, arrogant, brooding vampire lords.

"Your highness." The witch's voice was a rich baritone that matched the darkness surrounding him. The only point of light was his silver eyes.

"Rami. I was wondering where you went off to." My father turned to me, and his words took a backseat in my mind as the witch fixed his pale eyes on me.

He was powerful.

His magic coiled around him like the dark cloak he wore, dense and potent. He couldn't be older than a century, maybe a century and a half, yet his power was considerable.

He was most likely the most powerful witch I had met so far, and I had met Taro. Which meant this little guy was more powerful than the head of the Witchcraft Council.

My father made the introductions.

"Rami is the king's advisor," my father said. Aha. "He was a member of my staff when I was king. He's a great asset to the throne."

"You flatter me, your highness." His accent was pure Irish. "Welcome to Ireland, your highness."

It took me a couple of seconds to realize he was speaking to me.

"Thank you," I said. "And please, just call me Elle."

Being called your highness ranked very high up in the list of things that made me want to gag. Right next to runny egg yolk.

The witch blinked, glancing at my father who chuckled. My magic was on high alert. The presence of a new power put me on edge.

"Very well, lady Elle," he said, looking at my cheek. "I heard about the attack. I hope all is well."

"Yes." I waved my hand off. "Just a little bump, really. Nothing to write home about."

I watched him carefully. Something bugged me about him, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Noah moved in my peripheral vision, stalking. The witch's stance on the horse changed ever-so-slightly.

"Ah," he said. "It's a relief then."

"Mhm. Whoever ordered the attack must be either stupid or deseprate. Though it's more likely the former. Two dozen mercs were very easy to cut through."

The witch's lips twitched up. "Indeed. Attacking lord Arthur with only a few mercenaries was quite idiotic."

"Yep." I grinned, showing him my teeth. "Although I wasn't referring to Arthur."

His eyes smiled. He leaned back in his saddle, sitting with the ease of a man who was sure of his own power. I respected powerful people as much as the next girl. But this one... something about this one put me on edge.

After exchanging a few more words with my father, Rami stepped aside to let our company go through. We rode past him. My neck prickled in awareness. I turned my head.

The witch was still standing in place, his pale gray eyes a sharp knife boring straight through me.

--- ---- ---

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