“I expect you to be sensible!” she snapped. “You are my blood, yet you ally with my enemies?”
“You sound like I’m joining them in making war on you—”
“You may as well be!”
The man’s blue eyes flashed. “You say that to me? To me? When it is my people’s blood that has made you strong? How many would you have in your army if not for our women? How would you feed them if not for our grain? Yet you demand more?”
“A temporary measure, owing to the recent war—”
“There’s always a war, Nimue! It’s one thing my father taught me! You’ll never be free of it, he said—but he tried. For his people, he tried, and made that damn treaty with you—”
“Which you repudiate!”
It was thunderous, and the tension, already thick enough to be tangible, kicked up another few notches. I glanced over my shoulder, and, sure enough, the two guards behind me had twisted around this way. Luckily, they were still ignoring me, but I didn’t know how long that would last.
I started working off my bracelet.
“What are you doing?” Rosier hissed.
“The plan,” I said softly, and nodded to the row of women on their knees behind Pritkin—the coven leaders, I assumed. And our only possible allies.
“The plan failed spectacularly,” he hissed. “And now the witches are in there. We are out here. What exactly—”
I held up my chameleon, which as usual when off the body was a small gold trinket. “You can get in there.”
It took him a second. “I can’t!”
“You can. It’ll hide you—”
“It isn’t designed to hide a person. It’s designed to hide things. Small things—”
“You’re a small thing!”
“But I’m not a crazy thing! What am I supposed to do? Crawl over and give the witches the wands—”
“Yes!”
“And then what?”
“And then they cause a distraction. And . . . and we get Pritkin out. . . .”
“You can’t even convince yourself!”
“You have a better idea?”
“Anything is a better idea! Do you think the fey are just going to stand there while the witches cast a spell to unshrink their weapons, and another to untie their hands, and another to—finally—do some damage?”
“Again—you don’t like the plan, come up with a better one. I’m open to suggestions!”
“—that’s the point of the tournament,” Arthur was saying as Rosier glared up at me. “Come to court, Nimue. If you are as strong as you say, you will defeat the Svarestri and gain all that you wish. But if you’re too afraid—”
“Too smart, you mean, to wager an advantage I already have. Renew the treaty, Arthur. Increase the tribute to the amount I have asked for, and you will have the peace you seek.”
“Or?”
“Or I will take your women, all your women, and leave you to see how long your men follow you without them!”
Arthur drew himself up, blue eyes burning, all hint of joviality gone. “Do not threaten me, Nimue. You won’t like the outcome if you do.”