14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

" H ow close am I to that little divot?" I flatten my body against the face of the cliff and reach skyward for the next handhold.

Eoin peers down at me from the top of the cliff; the sun flaring behind him casts a glowing halo around his head. "I won't be there to guide you up the castle wall."

"I also won't be climbing a cliff four times just for fun." My fingers slide over the small divot in the stone, and I pull myself up. My momentary break doesn't set me back as I quickly make up time, climbing several meters in a moment.

"It's not for fun. It's time to get serious. We have three days until the wedding. We need practice and a solid plan." Eoin peers over the side again, checking my progress. "We've run out of time. There is no plan B. You're going to have to climb the castle." I know this is torture for him, but he won't admit it, his face a little more pale each time his face appears over the ledge. "You've got two more minutes if you want to make your window."

As I climb above the nearby treetops, the view around me expands, offering a breathtaking view of the golden sunset. Whenever a heist involves a climb or a tight space to fit in, it's my job to do it, and I'm very good at what I do.

Sweat beads around my lip and chin as my hot breath remains trapped and stagnant within my cowl and face shield. I pull the stretchy linen from my face and relish the fresh air before finding my next foothold.

"I have an idea—a backup safety measure. I'm not sure if it's worth the risk, though. I wish I had a clear sign." My fingers touch cool grass, and I pull myself up over the ledge. Near Eoin's feet, the last grains of sand in the hourglass fall. "I made it in under seven minutes again. We should . . ." My eyes leave the hourglass as I stand, dusting my palms.

My stomach flips.

The shadowless woman from the Ravton market stands behind Eoin, gazing at me with solid black eyes. I step back, and my heel drops over the cliff's edge, shifting my center of gravity and sending me flailing.

I slip, the sound of my boot sliding against pebbles and grit a death knell as I completely lose my footing.

Eoin lunges, and I swear the woman behind him smiles. His chest slams into the grass as he drops to catch me. His hand snaps around my wrist, halting my descent with a jolt.

I dangle from his bone-crushing grip and reach skyward with my free hand, trying to gain purchase.

The veins in his forearm stand out as his arm flexes, pulling me toward the ledge. I've never seen such fear and concentration on his face. I reach for the ledge with my free hand, and the woman leans over Eoin's shoulder. Her eyes appear normal now as she nods her head once at me.

"Drop me!" I scream at him.

"No." Eoin growls, pulling me higher.

"There's someone up there! Drop me. I'll heal."

"Not if you die." He grunts the words out through gritted teeth as he pulls me high enough I feel grass with my fingers again. I pull myself up, and we quickly spring to our feet, Eoin pulling a dagger.

"Where is she?" My eyes dance around nearby trees and boulders.

"Who?" Eoin looks me up and down with creased brows and tense posture. "There's no one up here."

The way he's looking at me, I can't tell if he's concerned or if he thinks I'm losing my mind. Maybe I am.

"Sorry. Maybe I need to catch up on some sleep." I tremble as the adrenaline crashes. The crease in his brow remains as he nods in agreement.

"Let's head to the cottage. I'll tell the kitchen staff that you're ill so you can sleep in." He stops and uses his knife as a wedge to pull a chunk of white bark from a zimmereth tree. He peels the chewy inner layer away and hands it to me. "Chew this." He sighs. "I've got a question you're not going to like." The zimmereth bark works quickly at easing some of my anxiety, but now we must keep walking. The fatigue will set in shortly.

"What's that?"

"I cannot nail down which room the Prophet will be in. Are you willing to climb the castle twice? Once tomorrow night to check the suites and see which one will be the Prophet's. There should be two empty rooms left: his and the bride's."

My legs feel leaden as fatigue makes her first appearance. However, I do feel like I could conquer the world at the moment, and I have an idea.

"I'll need to visit the House of Cards again. I don't know what it is, but when I spend a lot of time near the castle or the walls my well depletes. It's like I have a leak or something."

"You're not getting hurt or poisoned, are you?"

"I don't think so. But yes, as long as I can refill my well, I'm up for it. Perhaps I can even do you one better. . . maybe. I may have come across a forger. What if I could get my hands on a replica of the relic to swap it out?"

He eyes me without turning his face, a sly smile spreading across his profile. "I knew you'd come through in the end."

I stumble, the fatigue setting in, and Eoin loops his arm around my torso as the cottage comes into view. He crinkles his nose as I lean into him. "You need a bath."

***

This tub is bigger than the one at The Snakebeard. I don't have to scrunch my knees as much when I slip underwater. Tiny bubbles trail in a line from my nose to the water's surface, and the sounds of Eoin cooking are muffled and distorted. The soapy bubbles and steam from my bath have long since gone as I wait out the lingering effects of the zimmereth.

I shake my head, letting the tepid water move between my locks. I'm sure I really do look like a siren right now—one from the faery tales. One from Fae: Friend or Foe?

I sit up and scramble from the tub, water sloshing violently and slapping against the tile floor. I grip the red towel and wrap it around myself as I fly into the main hall, water dripping everywhere.

"God's body, Bronwyn!" Eoin shields his wide eyes with his hand and drops a pan of biscuits near the wood stove. "I thought you brought clothes in there with you."

"I did!" I yank my rucksack out from under the bed and rifle through, finding Fae: Friend or Foe? "I just thought of something. Come here." I pull Eoin's original map out and lay it beside the book on the bed.

"You're really testing my resolve to be a gentleman right now." He leans on the door frame as his eyes scan the length of my exposed legs.

I scoff a laugh. "You? A gentleman?"

He places a hand over his chest. "Oh, sweetheart, you wound me. I'd like to think I've been gentlemanly with you at least."

I narrow my eyes at him and the inaugural use of the moniker and he smirks. We may be toeing the line of something here, and I'm not yet willing to disturb the status quo if he isn't.

"Why are vampires and sirens the only two creatures in this book about fae ? We already know sirens obviously don't have fins and swim in the sea. And now we know vampires are just fae who drink blood. We are all just fae who regenerate differently, but this book makes us out to be monsters. Look." I hold the book open to the publication page and place it next to the bottom left corner of the incorrect map. "Both are published by the Prophet."

He takes the book from me and studies the inscription. "That is odd."

"See, I knew I was onto something. Why is the Prophet spreading lies about the fae realm to humans?" I adjust my loosening towel and his jaw ticks. "We can't trust him. This whole place reeks of treachery."

"Agreed, but we already knew we couldn't trust him." He takes a more serious tone and drops the book back onto the bed. "He's executed hundreds of mages over the last several years and is responsible for eliminating the Sirens. It is odd, but this doesn't help our current mission." He leaves the room and starts to shut the door behind him. "Please get dressed; you're killing me. We can talk more out here."

I dress myself as a sinking feeling pulls me into myself. Something doesn't feel right, and I just can't nail down what it is.

I plop next to Eoin on the couch, and he hands me a steamy cup of tea. "I feel like this means something, I just don't know what. He's doing something—has an agenda."

"You're probably right, but we need to focus on this mission. We only have three days."

"I know." I let the steam from the cup waft over my face and blur my vision. "Something just doesn't feel right."

"Oh, please don't tell me you're having second thoughts now," he says exasperatedly. He stands and crosses his arms. "We are so close."

"I'm just scared. What and who can we even trust right now? What if we walked away? We both have good, dependable, honest jobs here, and I'm starting to make friends. Isn't this what we always wanted?"

He turns and paces in front of the hearth, both hands interlaced atop his head. He stops and faces me again, his expression tense. "That's not true, Bronwyn. How did we get these jobs? Do you think we will still have them if we don't hold up our end of the bargain? Who has been paying for your new wardrobe and trinkets?"

He rubs his temples. "I wasn't going to say anything because clearly you're going through something, but this is not what you think it is. We're still not safe here. And let's not forget, Tomas may not be safe if we don't finish. And now you're hallucinating about women in the forest."

"You're right. I'm sorry." I clutch my teacup to my chest. "I don't want anything to happen to Tomas. I think I'm just nervous . . ." I bit my lip, unsure if I'm really just nervous or if I simply don't want to leave the fae realm yet. And where the hell did that woman go? Eoin acts as if he didn't see her at all.