We found Drostan downstairs, sitting at the table in the dining room, staring at the rain beating against the window. Lightning flashed seconds before a peal of thunder rattled the glass. Water dripped from his bangs and his clothing was dotted with water spots. The bedraggled look matched his dreary expression.
I pulled out the chair next to him and carefully sat on the edge. I didn't know if I should ask him if he was okay, or if I should start by asking for his forgiveness.
Without moving his eyes from the window, Drostan said, "I don't know what the truth is anymore. I don't think I know at all who my mother really was."
"I'm sorry, Drostan," I said. "I mean, I'm sorry for your hurt, but I'm really sorry about what I did. With how the magic reflected. I swear, I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I just wanted to keep Edlark safe, so he could heal Meara and Garron."
Drostan turned to me. "She placed herself in that position. She shouldn't have attacked Edlark, but that must have been her plan all along. The woman on that field today was not the same woman who raised me. Her thinking, her judgment, had become twisted."
Arden sat in the chair on my other side. "Who was the man who challenged you?"
"Murcod—also known as General Murcod—" Drostan wrinkled his nose with disgust. "Is is the head of my mother's security forces. She's relied on him and his counsel for as long as I can remember." His eyes got a hard glint. "He's never liked me."
"What are you going to do now?" I asked.
"I no longer have my people, I have no home, I have no family." Drostan gave a sharp laugh. "I don't know what I'm going to do."
"You can stay with me," I offered. "At least until you have a plan."
"Thanks."
I waited a moment. "This isn't connected to my offer in any way, but do you know how to make Pixie dust? Or an antidote for Fairy bites?"
He turned a weary gaze to me. "No, Hazel. I wish I did. I wish I could undo all the tragedy my mother has wrought."
I sighed. Of course he didn't.
"But," he continued, "I do know of an alternative method. I didn't mention it before because, well, you know. Anyway, have you heard of a Caladrius?"
My eyes bugged out. "You have a Caladrius?"
"I don't, but I know where to find one. The problem is getting to it."
"Why? Where is it?"
"It's in Adven, at the Pixie dwellings."
I slammed my palm against my forehead. "Oh my god. Is it the big white bird I saw in the cage?"
Drostan nodded. "But now it'll take an act of war to get to it."
"Then we'll have to go to war."
"Hazel, didn't you hear Murcod? We step foot in the Pixie dwellings, and it's over for either of us."
"Surely you have family or friends who would help you?"
Drostan shook his head. "I wouldn't be able to get in to talk to them."
"Okay. Well, I know how to get in the back door. I'll sneak inside, get the bird and get out." I could go ninja, right? For the kids, I'd try anything.
"You'll be seen. If everyone is at home, there's no place where you won't run into a Pixie."
"But that first time I was there I saw no one."
"Trust me, they saw you."
I picked at a scratch in the table top, realized what I was doing, and tried to smooth out the splinter of wood I'd pulled up. "Can you put a spell on me? Like what Amena did with that boy?"
"I don't think it would work."
"Could a Fairy?"
"What I mean is, even if you were invisible, the Pixies would figure it out. It's not like the invisibility would extend to the bird."
Did that mean the bird would look suspended in mid-air as I carried it out?
"I need that bird, and I'm going to get it, one way or another."
Drostan looked at Arden. "Aren't you going to stop her? She'll be killed if she tries."
"You don't know Hazel. She's not going to give up. And she'll do it by herself if she has to." Arden turned to me. "But she doesn't have to."
I met his eyes, and my heart about exploded with emotions. "You'll help me?"
"Of course I will."
"But what about being the Daragward? You can't take sides. You have to be diplomatic."
"Is that what you think I should do? Turn my back on you?"
"No, of course not. But you've always said—"
"Maybe I've been wrong."
Drostan shoved his chair back and got to his feet. "Are you trying to provoke the Pixies?"
"They provoked me, by going after the people I love, and planning an invasion into the Realm I protect," Arden said. "I can't just let that go."
My eyes widened. Did he just say he loved me?
Drostan barked a laugh. "What? You're going to wage war on them? You and what army?"
"I have my resources," Arden replied, "But that's not my plan, not unless you wanted to join us, of course, and take back what is yours."
"What do you mean?"
"You are the rightful heir. You are the only child of the Pixie Queen. My involvement would have better legitimacy if we are aiding you to regain your title."
Drostan watched the lightning flare though the window. "You're insane."
"Are you afraid?" Arden asked quietly. "There's going to come a time where you have to take a stand. Why don't you finish what you've started? You already stood up to the general once, when you kept him from killing Edlark."
"I'm not afraid of anything." Drostan exhaled a disgusted sigh and stalked over to the window. "None of the Pixies want me for their leader."
"Why wouldn't they? You are the only Pixie I've met who shows good judgment and compassion," I said. Sure, his bedside manner sucked, but he could work on it. "Don't you want to be Pixie King?"
"The general is well liked, and he has done a good job of discounting me to the others." Drostan's mouth tightened. "My mother has as well."
"But if Murcod was taken out of the equation, do you think people would support your claim to the throne?" Arden asked.
"Maybe if they were aware of what my mother and Murcod have done—kidnapping human children, using the Frid-Adhar to coerce you and Hazel. That kind of stuff."
"I guess there's only one question left, then. Do you really want Murcod to win?" I said.
Drostan stared out into space, his jaw tight. "No, I really don't."
"Then let's show him what you're made of." I was elated because Arden was right. We'd have better support if we were coming to Drostan's aid. Not many people would worry about handing me over.
Wait.
That might be exactly what we do.