Jenna Black - Sirensong

Dad put his arm around my shoulder and made a little shooing motion at my friends. “I suggest you retreat,” he said. “This may get unpleasant.”

Ethan drew himself up, all offended dignity. “I’m not the type to run away from trouble.”

Keane and Kimber both took up similarly stubborn stances. Maybe they all thought they could help protect me, but if the prince had his panties in a twist, I didn’t think it fair for my friends to be caught in the middle.

“Just give us a little space, guys,” I begged them. “I’ll be fine.”

I think they were planning to argue some more, but Finn put one hand on each guy’s shoulder and started pulling them out of the way. Keane tried to break his father’s hold, to no avail, and Ethan didn’t even bother to try. With an apologetic shrug, Kimber hurried after them.

Just in time, too, because Henry was practically on top of us. Everyone else had scattered at the sight of Henry’s fury. I didn’t know what he was so pissed off about, seeing as he was the one who’d led us into an ambush. An ambush I couldn’t help suspecting he had something to do with.

“What is the meaning of bringing the Wild Hunt here?” he spat, and I didn’t know if he was talking to me or my dad.

My dad decided Henry was talking to him and answered. “I didn’t bring them here. I’m sure they were just following, and Dana happened into them when her horse carried her away .” There was a sharp edge to those words, and I wondered if Dad suspected that someone had cast a compulsion spell on Phaedra, as the Erlking believed.

Henry chose to ignore the implications, instead curling his lip as he looked at me. “Interesting company you keep. Unseelie friends and the Wild Hunt at your beck and call. Perhaps my mother made a mistake by inviting you into our lands.”

Probably the smart thing to do would have been to keep my mouth shut and let my dad handle the obnoxious jerk of a prince. But keeping my mouth shut isn’t my way.

“At least I didn’t lead us into an ambush,” I countered. “And it was nice of you to make sure all your Knights were gathered around you while the rest of us were under attack.”

Beside me, Dad made a little choking sound. I couldn’t tell if it was smothered laughter or alarm. I did know that the prince was not amused. He glared at me as if he hated me more than anyone in the world.

“Perhaps we would not have been ambushed if you hadn’t insisted on bringing your Unseelie companions!” he snapped.

It was my turn to sputter with outrage. “You seriously mean to tell me you think Ethan and Kimber arranged for us to be attacked?”

The outrage lost a little of its steam when I remembered Ethan arranging for me to be attacked by a Spriggan, back when I’d first come to Avalon. Well, actually, it was Ethan’s dad who arranged the attack, but Ethan was in on it. He was supposed to save me from the Spriggan so he could be my hero and I would fall madly in love with him. Things had gone horribly wrong, because of course things always do when I’m around, but I’d long ago forgiven Ethan. And I was sure he had nothing to do with the Bogles.

Henry made a sour face. “They are no friends of the Seelie Court, and—”

“Really, Henry,” my father interrupted. “They live in Avalon, and their father preaches that citizens of Avalon should not align themselves with a Court. Look first to your own people before you accuse mine.”

“You dare!” Henry spat, as if he’d never heard anything so outrageous in his life. His cheeks were growing red with anger. My dad hadn’t been exaggerating when he said he was good at rousing Henry’s temper.

I noticed a couple of Henry’s Knights edging closer, watching my father and me with suspicious eyes, like they thought we were about to attack their prince. But my dad’s voice remained calm and level as Henry’s grew more shrill. If anyone was going to attack, it would be Henry.

“My daughter is supposed to be under your protection,” my dad said. “And yet an attempt was made on her life right under your nose. The Bogles did not venture so far into Seelie territory without some interference, nor would my daughter’s horse have run off with her like that. The obvious conclusion is that someone in your party arranged it.”

Henry clearly didn’t know how to quit when he was behind. “Perhaps it is you yourself who arranged the attack,” he said. His face was now almost purple with rage, and his voice had gone up about an octave. “As a way to discredit me!”

My dad gave that suggestion exactly the respect it deserved: he laughed.

The argument had drawn a fair amount of attention, and more than one of the observers snickered. I doubted even Henry believed what he was saying, but he clearly didn’t like being laughed at. There was a young, redheaded servant girl—I’d guess her age at somewhere around fourteen—standing respectfully to the side awaiting his attention. To my horror, Henry turned to her and slapped her so hard one of the Knights had to catch her to keep her from falling.

“How dare you laugh?” he shouted, though she hadn’t been one of the ones who’d snickered. Those people got the message, though, ducking their heads and slinking away.

“Tell me, Henry,” my dad said, “do you make a habit of bullying children, or do you only do it when your temper is piqued?” If he was particularly upset that Henry had just clobbered an innocent bystander because of his needling, you couldn’t tell it by looking at him. I, on the other hand, wanted to demonstrate some of the most deadly kicks and punches Keane had taught me, and I had no doubt that thought was clear on my face. I wouldn’t actually have done it—I swear, I’m not a moron—but my dad put a restraining hand on my shoulder just the same.

Belatedly, Henry seemed to realize he was making a total fool of himself. I could see him visibly battling his temper, trying to resist the urge to respond to my dad’s latest taunt. He managed it, but not by much.

“Your daughter may ride in one of the servants’ wagons,” he said, still spitting mad. “I have no spare horse to give her now that she’s lost her mount.”

I had no doubt being relegated to the servants’ wagon was meant to be an insult, but if it got me out of any more horseback riding, I was all for it. I didn’t much appreciate Henry’s implication that I was to blame for losing Phaedra, but I kept my mouth shut. I wondered if my dad was going to argue about me riding in a wagon, but he seemed satisfied that he’d come out on top and didn’t object.

Henry turned sharply away, stomping off. “Elizabeth!” he bellowed over his shoulder, and the poor redheaded girl went scurrying after him, her head held low.

“Shouldn’t we be turning around and heading back to Avalon?” I asked my dad as we both watched Henry’s indignant retreat. “I’m obviously not as safe here as you thought.”

He looked grim and unhappy. “Apparently not. But we can’t turn back. It would be an unpardonable insult to imply that Henry can’t protect you.”

“You’re kidding me, right? Because I’m pretty sure I’d be dead right now if it weren’t for the Erlking. Even if Henry’s people weren’t behind it, they didn’t lift a finger to help me. I think it’s fair to say he can’t—or won’t —protect me.”

“Maybe so, but if we offer him an insult of that magnitude—no matter how well-deserved—he could use it as an excuse to revoke our safe passage.” Dad swept his gaze pointedly around the caravan, with its Knights and magic users. “We are not among friends, and without the protection of safe passage…”

I suppressed a groan of frustration, but I got the point. I had a good idea what Henry and his people would do if they were no longer under any obligation to play nice, and I did not want to find out firsthand I was right.