“Most definitely.”
“And he’ll know everywhere I go.” Holy crap, I couldn’t even process the implications. My mere presence would be putting everyone in danger. But what I didn’t understand was, if the prince could sniff me out like some kind of halfling bloodhound, then why hadn’t he showed yet? It had been a week since we fought. What was he waiting for?
“It’s really creepy, isn’t it?” Tink said.
Creepy wasn’t even the word for it. I couldn’t think of an appropriate word for all of that. “Do you know how to kill him?”
“You kill him like you would kill any ancient. You cut off his head, but that’s not going to be easy.”
No shit. Taking out normal fae wasn’t particularly easy. Stabbing them with an iron stake only sent them back to the Otherworld. Chopping off their heads killed them.
“But that’s not the most important thing.” Tink grabbed my right hand. My wrist had stopped throbbing, another sure sign that the prince had truly patched up some of the damage he’d inflicted upon me. I eyed the brownie. “You cannot let anyone know what you are.”
“Gee. Really? I was thinking about updating my Facebook to halfling status.”
He cocked his blondish-white head to the side. “You don’t have a Facebook, Ivy.”
I sighed.
Tink continued, because of course. “I looked for you. Wanted to add you as my friend so I could poke you, and I know people don’t poke anymore, but I think poking is a great way to express how one—”
“I know I can’t tell anyone, but what’s stopping the fae from outing me?” I asked.
“The fae will know if you’re outed, because the Order would kill you.” He said this like we were talking about Harry Potter, and not about me, you know, being put down like a rabid dog. “The prince won’t want to risk that, even if there are other female halflings out there. He won’t want to risk the time it would take to find another one.”
“Well, I guess that’s one good thing,” I said dryly.
He let go of my hand. “You can’t even tell Ren. Especially not him.”
My gaze shifted to Tink.
“I know what he is. I overheard you two talking the morning you left to guard the gate. He’s an Elite, and while I think that is as lame of a name as the Order, I’ve heard of them.”
“How have you heard of them?”
He buzzed down until he was standing next to my head. He bent over, whispering in my ear, “I’m omnipresent.”
“What?” I frowned at him. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
He straightened. “It makes perfect sense.”
“I think you mean omniscient.”
He glanced up at the ceiling. “Huh.”
“You’re not omniscient,” I told him, and then said, “Are you?”
Tink grinned devilishly. “No.”
Annoyance flared. “I need you to be up front with me. No more lies. No more bullshit, Tink. I’m serious. I need to be able to trust you, and I’m not sure I do right now.”
His eyes widened slightly and then he dropped down to his knees. “I deserve that.”
Yeah, he did, because I took him in and he’d lied to me a lot. It didn’t matter that he had good reasons. He’d still lied.
And then it hit me like a smack in the face. I was going to have to do the same thing. Lie for a good reason to Ren and to . . . to everyone, so I was really no better.
“I know about the ancients, because I lived in the Otherworld. We had to learn everything about them to survive,” he said. “The prince and the princess, and the king and queen, are the most powerful, but there has always been talk of the Elite. Many fae have fallen to them when they used to come and go into this realm as they pleased, before the gateways were closed.”
That sounded believable. I guessed.
Tink screwed up his face. “Though I am surprised to hear that Ren is one. He doesn’t seem smart or cool enough for that level of badassery.”
“Ren is cool and awesome enough,” I corrected Tink. “He’s a total badass.”
“Whatever.” He folded his arms across his chest. “We’re going to have to agree to disagree. Moving on. You cannot tell him. It is his duty to end you.”
My breath caught.
Like it had been his duty to allow his best friend Noah to walk away, knowing that it would be the last time he’d see him. God, Ren had even said he couldn’t go through that again, and I couldn’t do that to him. I couldn’t put that kind of knowledge on him.
“I won’t,” I whispered.
Tink nudged my arm with his foot. “You have to pull it together, Ivy. Like right now.”
I looked over at him. “I think I’m owed a pity party for the next couple of minutes.”
“Save your tears for the pillow.”