“Nelaeryn is… cursed?” Alys looked vaguely murderous as she echoed my announcement. “How? Why?”

  “The curse is very old and fading already,” I hastened to add, raising my hands placatingly. I didn’t think she was upset with me, but I didn’t like seeing her upset at all. “As for why and how… This is just a theory, but…” I winced. “I think the curse was cast by the King of the Autumn Court.”

  She stared at me. “The King of the Autumn Court. Meaning…”

  “Yes. Oberon.” I cleared my throat. “Technically, my King.”

  I could practically feel the displeasure radiating off of my dragoness. I hated how quickly her happiness had turned into much darker emotions, but I wasn’t about to put off this particular conversation.

  At least her voice was calm as she asked, “Is there anything we can do to help?”

  I nodded vigorously. “I am doing plenty to help. I’m already preparing everything Nelaeryn will need to stay strong and healthy throughout her pregnancy. She shouldn’t even notice any ill effects from the curse. If anything, she’ll emerge from this whole experience even healthier than she is now.”

  “Hrm.” A few embers escaped Alys as she huffed. “What about the curse itself? Can we help her get rid of it?”

  “Ah.” I cleared my throat again. “Well…”

  She crossed her arms. “Yes?”

  “Now, give me a chance to explain after I say my piece. Alright?” I waited until she nodded, then took a deep breath. “Yes, the curse can be broken. No, I am not going to help her do it. I won’t guide anyone through the process, either.”

  Her eyes narrowed. She clenched her hands so tightly, I could hear it.

  Then, slowly, she forced herself to relax.

  “Explain,” she rumbled.

  I decided being blunt was the best course.

  “Fae do not get involved with the curses of other fae. It’s not an official law, but it might as well be. If I break that curse, or if someone else does it through my guidance, Oberon himself might sense it. He might sense me. And then we would have a Wild Hunt on its way here.”

  It was odd to see Alys blanch. The typical ruby gleam of her scales retreated, leaving them dark and extinguished.

  “A Wild Hunt?”

  “Correct. Now, I don’t know about you, but I don’t like the thought of getting hunted down by Autumn himself.” A violent shudder ran through me, forcing me to pause before continuing. “Besides, it’s not even necessary. The curse is weakening. It will peter out entirely over time, without anyone doing a thing. It’s not a severe threat to Nelaeryn’s health at this point. Especially with my help.”

  This seemed to mollify Alys. A moment later, though, she sighed morosely.

  “I understand, but I don’t like it. I don’t like knowing she is cursed.”

  “I imagine Hagmar likes it even less, but the curse will be gone eventually,” I promised again.

  I wasn’t lying. Not exactly. Nelaeryn’s descendants would barely be able to feel the curse’s effects in another four generations or so. Nine or twelve generations after that, the curse itself would vanish entirely.

  I didn’t think Alys would be pleased with me if she learned about those numbers, though. There had been enough difficult revelations for one day.

  Besides, I had one more thing to ask of her.

  “Please don’t tell anyone that I might be able to remove the curse,” I said quietly. “Or about my theory regarding the identity of its source. Please?”

  She eyed me for another moment, obviously still displeased. Eventually, though, she nodded with another sigh.

  “Thank you.” I felt so relieved, I found myself giving her a formal bow. “As I said, I’ll do everything in my power to help them. The powder I’ve started making to boost Nelaeryn’s immune system should benefit everyone, too.”

  “Hrrrmmm?”

  Alys tilted her head slightly, looking at me with that half-lidded gaze of hers again. I had to fight off the urge to go in for some more kisses.

  “I need to make a universal booster instead of targeting a specific disease,” I explained. “I believe I can craft a powder that gradually imparts permanent effects with regular use. That means we can significantly improve the overall health and disease-resistance of everyone in town. With a little luck, we’ll never need to fear plagues again!”

  She giggled at my dramatic declaration. That, combined with the smile slowly stealing onto her lips, was worth a bit of hyperbolic exaggeration on my part.

  In truth, while I was confident about the powder I could produce and its beneficial effects, I knew it wouldn’t be ‘the solution to all plagues.’ It would certainly make the townsfolk much more resistant to illness, and it would hasten their recovery from any disease they did catch. Still, there were plenty of horrific ailments out there. Even alchemy struggled occasionally against such foes.

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  I’d also been careful not to mention magical plagues. Magical plagues could sweep over an entire landscape and infect every living thing, including plants. If we encountered that kind of ‘disease’, we would have considerably more to worry about than the efficacy of my work.

  But there was no need to go into any of that now. What mattered was the fact that I could help Nelaeryn, and that my efforts to help her would end up benefitting the entire town.

  “Anyway,” I purred, leaning a little closer and cupping Alys’ chin. I did so love the way her scales heated up ever so subtly at my touch. “You never gave me an answer. Would you like to accompany me to town, mistress?”

  “Yes, I will do so,” she declared.

  Her tone was grand and imperious, but she wasn’t exactly subtle as she glanced at my lips.

  I grinned. “What a lucky kobold I am.”

  I then proceeded to lavish my dragoness with kisses.

  After all, I never said we needed to set out right that second…

  —

  It was almost an hour later when we stumbled out of Alys’ house, having gotten control of our breathing and fixed our clothes. I don’t think either of us regretted the delay, though.

  In fact, we were both in much improved moods. Alys, in particular, had bounced back to being excited and happy for Nelaeryn. That allowed us to enjoy our walk in contented silence, our fingers locked together and her tail wound around my waist.

  Our high spirits held strong even when we reached the Hall and walked inside, looking around at all the townsfolk who had chosen to gather for dinner. My eyes went straight to the elders’ table.

  Instantly, both my thought and my movement came to a screeching halt.

  “Thorn?” Alys nudged me. “What’s wrong?”

  I nodded towards the elders, unable to process the sight in front of me. “Grafton. Just… look at him.”

  The human elder had always been a little skinny. I had attributed this to his age, seeing as most of the older humans I’d encountered seemed to be slowly withering away.

  Right now, however, Grafton looked positively skeletal. His entire figure was gaunt. His face was downright unpleasant to look at too closely. He was shoveling food into his mouth even faster than usual, paying no attention to his fellow elders or the few townsfolk who approached their table for a quick conversation.

  “Alys! Thorn! It’s so good to see you again!” Arandel’s cheerful voice broke into our silence, then faltered as she registered our shared state of shock. “What’s wrong, you two?”

  “What’s wrong?! What’s happening with Grafton?” Alys hissed.

  Arandel’s brow furrowed in confusion. She glanced between us and the human elder a few times before her eyes widened. “Oh! Sorry, I… honestly, Thorn, you fit in around here so well that I forgot you’re still new. And I guess, now that I’m thinking about it, Alys has never come to town right after a caravan visit, either…”

  “What does the caravan have to do with anything?” Alys snarled. “Did those surveyors do something to Grafton?”

  Watching her draconic instincts visibly flare up, I suddenly realized that I was not the only one Alys had claimed as her own. It was different with me, of course, but she probably saw the entire town as ‘hers.’ Anyone who caused harm or distress to the people she cared about would face severe consequences.

  “No! Nothing like that,” Arandel replied. “It’s just… I’m not sure how much I should say. My grandfather explained everything to me because I’m the one supplying Grafton with food, but it’s not really my secret to tell, even if everyone’s noticed it before now. Well, other than you, Alys.”

  She affected a teasing tone, but her heart wasn’t really in it.

  “Food?” I narrowed my eyes, staring at the human elder as several ideas slotted into place. “He has to keep eating, doesn’t he? And he couldn’t do it in front of the royal surveyors, because it would have been seen as disrespectful.”

  “That’s right,” Arandel confirmed.

  I was still baffled. “But he only had to abstain from food for… what, a day? At most? How in the world did it cause that sort of damage?”

  Arandel just shrugged sadly.

  This wasn’t a good enough answer for Alys. Snarling under her breath, she grabbed my hand tighter and pulled me towards the elders. As soon as we were standing in front of them, she pointed at Grafton and demanded:

  “What is happening to you, and how can my idiot help you with it?”

  “Hey!”

  My complaint was lost as Hyel sighed and gave my dragoness an amused smile.

  “Good evening, Alys. Thorn. I assure you, Grafton will be fine. He is —”

  “I’m starved, brats. What does it look like?” the gruff human spat, finally lifting his head from his stew.

  Looking back on all our previous encounters, I realized he was almost always eating stew. I now wondered if this was because stew was the easiest thing for Arandel to supply in large, filling quantities.

  “A day of not constantly eating did this to you?” I asked, drawing his displeased glower to myself. “You do realize that I might be able to help you fix whatever’s wrong with you, yes?”

  I managed not to sound too reluctant. Alys would be upset with me if I didn’t offer to help him. Remembering this helped me ignore my petty fae nature, which had absolutely no qualms about watching him suffer and was even tempted to snicker a little.

  Meanwhile, Grafton responded to my generous offer by bristling.

  “Listen here, brat, just mind your own —”

  “This is my fault,” Ferlis suddenly cut in.

  Grafton snapped his mouth shut instantly and looked at her. His eyes were full of something approaching guilt, and also… affection? It was such an odd expression for the human elder’s face that I was left blinking at him owlishly.

  “I am much more intelligent than most of my kin,” Ferlis went on. “And… present, for lack of a better word. However, haven’t you wondered how a wendigo can function in normal society?”

  I simply nodded, not wanting to be rude. Frankly, it had crossed my mind once or twice. Even if a wendigo displayed full sapience, they still constantly hungered. Mostly for human flesh, in fact, though they weren’t exactly picky. They had been known to devastate entire populations of animals when they couldn’t feast on humans.

  Ferlis acknowledged my nod with a slight bow, then glanced at Grafton. “I have my husband to thank. I hated the monster I was, but I couldn’t always rein in my appetite. And even when I did, it was torture. He crafted a spell to transfer that hunger to himself. As a human, he doesn’t feel an overwhelming urge to feast on the flesh of every thinking creature around him. He ‘merely’ needs excessive amounts of regular food.”

  The way she said ‘merely’ made her feelings on the subject painfully clear. She obviously hated what he was putting himself through on her behalf.

  My mind, however, had latched more firmly onto another word.

  Alys echoed my thoughts with a single question. “Husband?”

  “Why so shocked? Gonna complain about cross-species relationships now?” Grafton groused, sneering at our interlocked hands for a moment before returning to his stew.

  I almost retorted that my shock was due to the idea of anyone, from any species, choosing to put up with him. Only the newfound hint of respect I had for the man stopped me.

  But it was a close thing.