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To everyone inside this tavern, he was a living fucking god.
“I can sit there instead?” Carrion offered. “Absolutely not,” Kingfisher barked. “Try it and die.”
“Because she is moonlight. The mist that shrouds the mountains. The bite of electricity in the air before a storm. The smoke that rolls across a battlefield before the killing starts. You have no idea what she is. What she could be.
“Be unrelenting and unmerciful in the face of the wicked dead,”
“Don’t you dare die on my watch, Saeris Fane! Fisher will never forgive me if his sole reason for living is torn to pieces on her first fucking battlefield.”
That’s what Oshellith means in Old Fae, Saeris. Most Sacred.”
Above all, know this. There will be times when the world seeks to destroy you, Kingfisher. But you are stronger than you can ever know. You will not falter. And you will not face it all alone.’”
You’ve got me, Little Osha. And I’ve got you.
