“Not the tent,” Pritkin said, and pointed to something past it.
Something that was a serious letdown.
I hadn’t been able to get much of a feel for the layout of this place, because the fey’s living quarters were scattered haphazardly, in a jumbled mass. But we’d almost worked our way through them, to the very back of the camp, where an open space lay near the palisade wall. In front of which was . . .
Well, it looked like a roof someone had forgotten to put a house under. And since it was a thatched roof, and since the mostly missing building was a big one, it was fairly comical-looking. Like a toupee a passing giant had dropped.
But, pathetic as it was, that’s what the fey were using as a command post, probably because enchantments don’t work so well on insubstantial, fluttering “walls.”
If they did, we’d still be stuck back in our own tent.
“So, this is good, right?” I whispered. “It’s thatch. One good fireball—”
“Would never touch it,” Hooknose said, extending a veined hand.
The blonde nodded. “It’s warded.”
“No,” Pritkin disagreed. “It’s warded. We might get through with a week to hammer away at it, but we don’t have a week.”
He rotated his wrist, showing a crude hourglass etched into the skin of his forearm. Mages used magical tattoos for all sorts of things, but this didn’t look like one, maybe because he hadn’t had time. It did look painful—red and jagged-edged, like it had been done quickly and without a totally sharp knife.
But it was working.
Tiny red dots were flowing from the top of the “glass” to the bottom, and while I didn’t know how long it took to empty, I did know there weren’t many left. The covens were coming, and they were coming soon. And they were going to get butchered if we didn’t manage to rescue the leaders before then.
“Then let’s see what all of us can do!” the redhead said, starting up.
Only to have the blonde and the skinny brunette pull her back.
“There’s also the small matter of the queen’s personal guard,” Pritkin added dryly. “There’s dozens in there, and they’re staying put. From what I hear
, no one’s been in or out all day.”
“You got inside?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I impersonated a camp follower assigned to deliver food, but the guards took it from me. After the attempt to free the coven leaders, they’re not taking chances.”
“Then how d’ye know the leaders are even in there?” the redhead demanded.
“The camp follower I told you about. He was allowed in earlier. He also saw another set of wards on an inner chamber, and six guards outside it—”
“It’s the princess,” the blonde said excitedly. “It has to be!”
“Princess?” I repeated.
“A fey princess,” she told me. “She helped us organize the covens. She’s been fighting alongside us.”
“It would be easier to just get the coven leaders,” Pritkin argued. “If she’s fey—”
“We’re not leaving her!”
“If she’s fey,” he repeated stubbornly, “she’ll have to come to terms with her people over this, sooner or later, or be exiled. Do you think she wants that?”
“It’s for her to say what she wants,” the redhead said hotly. “It’s for us t’ get her out so she can say it!”
There was a chorus of agreement.
Pritkin sighed. “Then we’re going to need the key.”