A Storm of Flames and Deceit

52. Bespelled

Nephele

"What have you promised us to do so early in the morning?" I complain to Eris as we trudge through Spring, hand in hand. The sun wasn't even up yet- I had no business being awake.

"We're here to help Tamlin," Eris tells me, unaffected by the morning. His brows furrow. "I thought that would please you."

"It would if I knew what exactly we were doing," I answer, rubbing my eyes.

"We're helping to erect a shield around his lands," he explains. "Living so close to the border, humans have begun to pillage his towns. His people have already lost faith in his ability to defend them. If they lose their homes... there will be nothing to keep them here."

"Doesn't a shield sort of diminish the whole idea of dissolving the barrier though?" I ask, brow furrowed. "What of the humans who wish to enter Prynthian?"

"The sheild is of ancient plan," he explains. "It takes four High Lords- or High Ladies- of seasonal affiliation to erect. It is meant to keep humans who wish the land harm from entering."

"And Eris knows about this because he's read every book from here to the isle," a familiar voice interjects as we enter rose hall. Lucien. "Good morning."

Eris rolls his eyes. "I can think of worse hobbies than reading," he looks his brother down. "Perhaps... pestering?"

Tamlin snorts, coming to stand beside Lucien. "I think I would call that more of a character trait, at this point," he teases, greeting me with a hug, Eris with a clap of the shoulder. "Thank you both for coming."

"I would say lovely to be here, but it's a bit too early in the morning for me to be jolly about it," I tell him.

Eris splays his arm over my grumpy posture. "The spell is meant to be done before Dawn," he explains.

"Nothing good and holy is meant to be done before Dawn," I look up at him, crinkling my nose. "I only count three High Fae of seasonal courts, by the way."

A snap of someone winnowing in.

"That's because Tarquin refused to wake up," Cressida says, lugging a massive and slouched male figure behind her.

Eris blinks. "Why is he soaking wet?"

"Like I said," Cress kicks him to stand upright. "He wouldn't wake up."

"Give me his hand," I yawn groggily, reaching for his fingers. I give him a small zap, just a dash past the equivalent of wearing rubbing one's socks on a rug, and he startled upright, eyes wide as Cress laughs.

"I could've used that ten minutes ago," she says as Tarquin rubs his hand.

"Are you sure we don't need Kalias for this," Tarquin complains. "I hate to have been taken from my bed for nothing."

"There's four High Fae of Seasonal courts here," Eris shrugs. "I guess we'll find out."

"Right, well, as much as I enjoy helping out a friend," Tarquin says, yawning. "What's in it for me? I reckon this spell will be no small strain on my magic."

"Certainly not to do it three times over," Eris responds. "We intend to fortify all of our courts this morning. It won't keep out any fae that wish us harm, but it will keep out non magical creatures. As the three most southern courts, I think it a good measure."

That's the Eris I know. As grateful as he is to Tamlin on Lucien's behalf, he'd never do something so kind simply just to do it. There had to be something in it for us. "Why hadn't anyone enacted this spell before?" I ask. Seems like a helpful sort of thing.