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The stranger smiled again. “I understand, little shepherd. You think they are your friends. But they cannot travel upon the winds, nor do they understand like I do, wilding shepherd, O youngling flame of fire and need.” His voice was low and rhythmic, its pleasant tone unthreatening. The words wove around him, whispering. “You need much, do you not? You desire much, you feel much—”
“Enough!” Brorda said sharply, and Thomas blinked, feeling as if he had just been slapped awake. “I will not allow you to Charm the boy,” Brorda continued, his voice hard. “State your business here, Unseelie. I grow tired of your games.”
Quick amusement flashed over the Unseelie’s face. “But my business is games, Ward. Quiet games, sneaky games. The Jack knows them all. The best games, I should say.”
“Gam
