It had been a long while since Vale had gazed upon these lands. He was glad and saddened to find them unchanged. Saddened, as before his eyes stretched miles of barren wasteland. No plant had grown there for long, other than a brownish moss that had been called elvesbane. Faebane might have been more accurate. Ground into powder, it was one of the most powerful poisons one could use against a fae.

Still, he was glad, because they would be safe—as safe as they could be anywhere on unseelie land in these times of peril, anyway.

Vale turned to his left, to the female who'd followed him without so much as a complaint all night. He could feel her pain, her fatigue, her anxiety. She didn't let them hinder her.

And to think that he'd thought her a pretty doll once, three days ago. A lifetime ago.

“How do you feel?” he asked, observing her closely, because he knew she might pretend to be well.

“Fine,” she said. The answer he'd expected, but it sounded true. “Are we in the Valley of Doom yet?”

She tilted her head to look down. The grass at their horses' hooves was still green.

“We're at the borders, but if the air was dangerous to you, I believe you might already have sensed it.”

Devi frowned. “I sense something. The air is perhaps heavy, and warmer. I can't quite put it into words.”

Vale hesitated. “It may perhaps be prudent to remain here along the border.”

The female shook her head. “Not on my account.” And already, without paying any mind to him as he called her name, his tone grave and commanding, she pulled on her horse's reins and trotted forward.

Vale stared in disbelief before sighing and following the infuriating female.

“If you die, I get to say, 'I told you so.'”

“I actually can picture it. My body broken, still and frozen, my mouth open yet without breath, and you towering over me, smirking, and saying, 'I am the wisest, smuggest, hunkiest prince of the realm, and you can see the fate of those who'd defy my will.'”

She'd lowered her voice in a poor imitation of his, intending and managing to amuse him again.

“Hunkiest?” he repeated, reaching her side. “I think not. No such word has ever passed my lips before this day.”

Their light-heartedness was short-lived. Her smile disappeared, and a frown marked his forehead at the exact same time as they redirected their gaze ahead. They'd now passed the borders of the valley. Vale's senses were on high alert, sensing danger all around them. He'd been wrong before. The valley had changed. Now it truly deserved its name.

Wordlessly, Vale drew his sword, and Devi removed her bow from her shoulder.

“There are…” she thought it out and settled on “things. All around us.”

He nodded carefully. Opening his mind to get a reading of the creatures who watched them in darkness, Vale heard whispers in the shadowland, in a tongue he'd never heard.

The Isle had adopted one common tongue long before he'd been born, but still, the ancients recalled the words of their ancestors. Vale understood some of them well enough. Various dialects of Latin and Gaelic. The words around them didn't make any sense to him.

“They're talking. Discussing us, presumably.”

“What do they say?”

“I don't know.”

“The words. Can you repeat them?”

He frowned but did as he was bid, his crude tongue struggling with the strangely beautiful language of the creatures he couldn't see.

To his astonishment, Devi then spoke, her words flowing in the same strange language.

“What are you saying? What speech is this?

She shrugged, replying, "Dragontongue."

“And you so happen to speak Dragontongue.”

“I took foreign language as an elective. Your mother approved of that decision; she speaks various languages herself.”

Of course, Shea would have encouraged Devi to learn dragontongue, old elvish, and the harsh tongue of mages and orcs, too. Such knowledge befitted a queen. Every day, the fact that Shea intended for Devi to succeed her became more obvious.

“I chose to do it mostly because I wished to work my way through all the books in your mother's collection someday. I can't say I'm an expert, however. I can't translate the words you've told me. And as for what I was saying, I was introducing myself, and telling them that we only wished to rest a few hours here. Do they have any words for us now?”

But the creatures weren't speaking anymore; they were listening, and watching them closely, curiously.

If Devi was right and these were indeed dragons, Vale knew things could go two ways. They'd either be ignored, or killed on sight. He'd heard at least seven distinct voices; there was no way two fae could battle against so many beasts.

Dragons were rare in the Isle, and often hunted. A forsaken land such as the Valley of Doom was an ideal haven for their kind.

“One of them is talking now. Just one. He seems to be addressing us. His words were something like 'arsh kan deyu darfrak dale,'” Vale repeated. “Can you make sense of it?”

“I think so. I'm by no means fluent, but it's something like 'and what name has this rider.' I guess they want you to introduce yourself too.”

Vale nodded. “Tell them I'm Valerius Blackthorn, master of Carvenstone. Tell them we're chased. Tell them we wish to sleep, let our horses drink at the lake downstream, and be on our way.”

Devi pouted. “That's a lot of things to say. Very well. Gayr deen darfrak Valerius,” she started, but her words died on her lips.

Before their bewildered eyes, a dragon appeared out of thin air, right ahead of them.

It was the stuff of legends, a creature seven times larger than their horses, with shining black scales and long red wings. Its eyes were blood and fire. After the beast had revealed himself, others appeared at his flank, none larger, but each just as imposing.

The dragon grunted, growled, and the next instant disappeared again. In his place, there was a female who looked a little like a fae. Taller, perhaps, and certainly more bestial. She had light brown skin and hair of silver, falling in waves around her bust. Her beautiful skin was tattooed and marked with scars.

To think that the female was less imposing than the beast would have been a mistake. They were one.

“No need to butcher any more of our language, Devira, daughter of water and ice. We know your tongue.”

Vale had never heard common words sound quite so sensual as it did in her low, sultry timbre.

He noted that the female was glaring at Devi defiantly. Frowning, he wondered why there seemed to be animosity from either side. Devi had stiffened and narrowed her eyes.

The next instant, the dragoness directed her eyes to Valerius. They softened. “And we know of you, Valerius Blackthorn. We know of your deeds in your carven home. Words of Dayus and Tradora have reached our ears.”

The names were familiar to him. Dayus was a male loner dragon who'd come to them defeated and broken after his sister had gone rogue and attempted to kill him.

Vale had sent a dozen fae after the female; a violent rogue dragon at their border wasn't a matter he could ignore. But his warriors had returned with the beast alive. She was in pain and mistrusting, but not beyond salvation.

It had been perhaps a hundred years. Tradora was now part of his guard.

“You may pass. You may rest for a day. We do remember our debts. Ours has now been paid.”

And after those words, the female and the dozens of dragons around her disappeared.

After a minute of stunned silence, Devi said, “What the fuck was that?”

“Proof that good deeds seldom go unrewarded. Let's go. They've given us a day. I think we can afford to sleep for perhaps six hours.”

“Really?” Her eyes widened in delight. But she was soon sighing. “Is that wise? We ought to get to the forest as soon as possible.”

“Sleep is a luxury we'll only seldom be able to afford in the days, months, and years to come. We have to seize it whenever we can. We're in a land others fear, protected by fire-breathers. It would be foolish to let the chance pass.”

“Why did they let us go free?” she asked. “Tell me. I’ll not be satisfied with vague statements about good deeds.”

Of course she'd be curious; he'd seen the question coming.

Valerius found himself feeling strange at the notion of opening up that part of him. “Because their kindred were in need, and I did what I could to help,” he said. "Look ahead. We're getting close.”

While the borders of the valley had been just as dreadful as he remembered them to be, now they were drawing close to the lake, trees had started growing, and they could hear small animals around them. The dragons had been clever, ensuring that their lands still seemed sick to strangers, but soon the sun rose to shine upon a picturesque dale near the mountains of Frey and Vardas. The river of Eral ran from the top of Frey and fell to the lake where he'd meant to stop.

By the time they'd reached it, it had started snowing.

“We'll camp here,” he said, opting for a spot under the shade of a deciduous tree. It offered some protection from the snow as well as the sunlight his eyes weren’t used to.

Vale dismounted and moved to help Devi.

“I can get down myself,” she saw fit to inform him, all the while taking the hand he offered.

“Of course you can, but I see no reason why you should.”

She stumbled a little, then walked just as awkwardly as she had when he'd first met her after hurting her foot. Vale stifled his smile.

“A word about my looking as though I'd been thoroughly fucked all night and I'll shave your hair in your sleep,” she warned him.

He hadn't thought anything along that line before, though he certainly did now.

“Nonsense. If you'd ridden me rather than your horse, it would have done something about your prickliness. Go, sit. I'll unburden the horses.”

He was surprised that she did as she was asked. She truly must have been exhausted.

Devi sat at the foot of the tree. “For the record, I resent you for still having so much energy after an entire night of riding.”

Truth be told, he had very little energy. Centuries of peace had done much to destroy his prior endurance. But if his muscles had faded, his will had not.

“This bag has clothes. Use it as a pillow,” he said, throwing a leather satchel at her, and another one a few feet away.

Once their load had been removed, he led the horses to the water and spoke to them low. “Rest, drink, and come back to us,” he told them in the tongue of fae horse masters, making each of his words a command they wouldn’t refuse. Then he returned to the bags and unpacked some food and water. Devi's eyes were already closed. He could tell she wasn't asleep.

“Do you wish to eat?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. My one wish is to sleep for the next five days without interruption.”

He cut two small pieces of bread, some cheese, ham, and took two water skins. Vale wrapped her portion in a piece of cloth and dropped it by her side before sitting next to his bag.

“Drink. And you'll wake hungry.”

The female opened her hazel eyes and set them on him, tilting her head curiously. “You're a caretaker,” was her remark.

He shrugged. “I'm a lord. Caring is the beginning and end of our duties.”

“And yet I've heard that you were nothing but a playboy and a mercurial bully, often cruel to those who displeased you.”

Valerius offered no word, lying on the cold ground, his head on his bag.

“Who are you, really, I wonder.”

“A dangerous question. And I wonder what you'd make of the answer.” The silence stretched before he finally spoke. “I am everything they say. I am the dark prince. I was called that because I tortured and killed without mercy during the war. Then there was peace. I learned to grow a conscience and found ways to atone for my sins in Carvenstone.”

“Like helping the dragon kin.”

He acquiesced. “Like that. But to the court, I'll forever be that person. They recall my darker days. I make sure to give them a glimpse of what I am still, so they continue to fear me. That's one effective way of ensuring they don't interfere with my affairs. And when I'm king one day, they'll know better than to question my rule.”

Devi considered his words in silence for a time. He wondered if she was going to say anything at all. Finally, it came. “Shea is also feared. Yet I wonder if a monarch could endeavor to be loved instead.”

“The love some feel for their lords is fleeting. It lasts as long as the king and queen's actions please them. I choose fear, for it is far less whimsical.”

“I see.” She smiled as she lowered herself to the ground, lying next to him, turning so she faced him. “Well, you'll be sorry to hear that in our short acquaintance, I've not found you very scary.”

“That would be because I haven't attempted to frighten you.” After reflection, he added, “Much.”

And then she had to ask, “Why?”

He could have said many things: that her opinion didn't matter much, that she was his mother's ward. Instead he opted for the truth. “I don't know. Now, let us sleep. The time we have to remain idle is going to pass us by before we know it.”

She closed her eyes obediently. After ten minutes, a sigh escaped her lips and she opened them again, catching him in the act. He'd been looking at her.

“I can't sleep. The ground is hard, the water is noisy, and the wind is making this damn tree move too much.”

“Spoiled little princess. Would it be your first night without a roof over your head?”

She glared at him. “Well, you obviously can't sleep either.”

“I'm cold,” he said. A truth. Only it wasn't why he couldn't sleep.

Truth was, he'd been thinking. Of the war to come, of the days that had passed, of Devin, the soft and apparently friendly king whose arrival in the court of night had started it all. And above all, of Devi, and the schemes his mother had entangled her in. Then, rather than letting those notions weight on his mind, he'd started to look at her.

“If you can prevent yourself from acting like a jerk, there's plenty of room under my cape. My body heat does tend to be higher than most.”

He hadn't seen that offer coming. Before he'd found anything to say, she was withdrawing it.

“Never mind. Dumb idea.”

“The best idea you may have this night. Come closer.”

He inched forward, dragging his pillow-bag along, and when he was close enough, he pulled her forward. Devi parted her cape in the middle and wrapped the long span of fabric around them.

She was right. It was delightfully, impossibly warm next to her, despite the snow. Warm and fragrant, and soft. Before long, his mind was void of troubling thoughts, and he fell into a restful, dreamless sleep.