Into the Fire (The Unseelie Court Book 4) by Gwen Rivers (latest ebook reader .TXT) 📕

portal, two days walk from here. It will take you to their world.”

“It’s forbidden.” Thor’s face is stern. “The gods exiled the fey.”

Aiden turns to face the Asgardian. “Better to court the wrath of the gods than stand against the dead. Help us, Uncle. Plead a case for the fey.”

Thor shifts and then nods. “For you, Váli, I will try.” There is a clap of thunder and then light explodes through the room. When it dissipates, the thunderer’s chair sits empty.

“Organize the evacuation,” Aiden tells Freda. For once, the First doesn’t argue.

“And you won’t come with us?” The Seelie king asks.

Aiden shakes his head. “I need to get to Nic. I will retrieve her and we will meet up with you as soon as we free the others.”

“It’s too dangerous,” Freda says. “You don’t know what you will face over there.”

“Worried for me, First? I didn’t know you cared.”

“I don’t.” As a turned mortal, Freda can’t lie, as she proves by adding, “But my daughter does. And you stand the best chance of freeing Nic and getting her back on the throne where she belongs.”

“Nic wouldn’t want me to risk anyone else. She would want you to see these people safe.”

“What will you need for your journey?” Taj asks.

“Perhaps some more food.” It would save him time if he didn’t have to stop and hunt.

“I’ll take him to the kitchens,” Harmony offers.

“Good luck, wolf.” Freda holds his gaze a moment and then turns to make plans with the Seelie king.

Harmony is already on her feet. Aiden follows the seer through the wooden hallways, past a giant tree and down stone steps into a bustling kitchen.

The grumpy old cook is nowhere in sight. At least Aiden won’t have to argue with the fey over what he is taking. He hunts for some sort of satchel to carry his haul and settles on a nearly empty potato sack.

“Why didn’t you tell them about Angrboda’s suggestion?” Harmony asks as he lays out the food. Cooked chicken and ham, three varieties of cheese, fresh fruit and vegetables. It’s enough to feed a fey army.

Or one hungry wolf.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Something about Harmony unnerves him. She can’t lie any more than Freda, but the seer has a nasty habit of not sharing vital information until it suits her.

She tilts her head to the side, her expression inscrutable. “I think you do. The giantess intimated that Nic could still rule in the Unseelie Court.”

“You mean by claiming the Fire Throne?” He shakes his head. “Her magic is based on air. She can’t wield flames. The magic of the throne would destroy her.”

“So that’s it then?” The seer studies his face. “You’re just going to walk away and let the worlds burn?”

“Ragnarök is unavoidable.”

“But it doesn’t have to be now. Loki isn’t free yet.” Her lip curls up in a snarl of contempt. “You just don’t want to risk your precious mate.”

A warning growl echoes in his chest. “You’re right, I don’t. If Nic really wants the Fire Throne, I will help her obtain it. But I’m not going to force her to face off against her mother and Fenrir, never mind an army of the dead, just to see her burned to ash by that bloody fey chair.”

“So that’s it then.” Her face falls. Is the seer disappointed in him?

“What would you have me do?”

“Remind her of her promise. She told Freya she would kill Underhill.”

Aiden steps closer to her. “I won’t pressure her. Nic makes her own choices.”

“And what of you?” Harmony’s chin juts up. “When will you start making your own decisions?”

“I owe Nic my allegiance, not the Unseelie Court.” He shakes his head. “Trust me, Harmony. You’re better off without my assistance. Nothing good comes from my bloodline. Nothing.”

Harmony’s lips part as though she is about to say something, then she shakes her head. “I’ll leave you to pack. There’s a room down the hall that’s empty. I’ll have the servants draw you a bath.”

“There isn’t time—,” he protests but she holds up one hand, cutting him off.

“Freshen up for your journey, while I find you some real clothing. Better than drawing mortal notice.”

It’s easier to acquiesce than to argue. Besides who knows when his next bath might be? “Thank you.”

After securing as much as he can carry that won’t spoil, he cinches his bag and totes the bundle to the room Harmony had indicated. The door is ajar and he steps through.

The smooth wooden tub sits along the far wall. Steam curls enticingly from the water. There must be some sort of herb mixture within. He can smell rosemary and lavender and something else he doesn’t recognize. It is familiar though. A servant must have just filled it. Setting his food down on a low table, he strips off the tattered clothing Jasmine pinched for him and sinks down into the warm water.

He lays his head back and sighs in pleasure. His lids are heavy. How long since he last slept?

No time. The wolf argues. But the animal’s voice is distant. His lids slide closed as he breathes in the perfumed water.

When his eyes open, he’s in another place entirely. White marble, ornate gilt. Even the tub itself is different.

And he isn’t alone.

“Hello, Váli,” Freya’s hands wrap around him from behind. “You’ve come back to me at last.”

Friends and Foes

Days pass and I’m beginning to give up hope that I will have an opportunity to escape. It’s not just because I’m incarcerated—a fact that sets my teeth on edge. Part of the problem is that I have nowhere to run. Undoubtedly the feds made sure all of my finances are frozen. With no magic and no safe haven, escape will only delay the inevitable.

Of course, there is the possibility of going back across the Veil—death sentence or no. Underhill can’t kill me if she can’t catch me.

Nightweaver returns in intermittent intervals, passing messages back and forth across the Veil. If not for her to talk to,