15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

I t's early, the morning fog hanging low and heavy, glowing red with the rising sun. I take three steps up Moira's sidewalk before the dark silhouette of her house takes form in the red glowing haze. I'm not sure if I can trust Moira with this, but seeing that strange woman again yesterday might be the sign I was looking for. The last time I saw her, I had a clear answer as to whether or not I should accept this mission. Of course, the last time I saw her, someone also ended up dead shortly after. She could very well be a visage of Death.

I knock on the door. A moment passes, and I peer around the side of the house. The vague form of her vegetable cart takes form in the fog. I need this to work. I knock again, and the door cracks open ever so slightly.

"Bronwyn?" Her voice is weathered and scratchy. "I don't need help with the cart today, sweets." She pushes the door, shrinking the small gap.

"I was actually hoping you could help me with something."

Moira freezes and looks me over for just a moment before opening the door. "Take a seat. I've just finished brewing the morning herbs."

The inside of Moira's house is a stark contrast to what's outside. The wooden floor is smooth and gap-less, polished to a mirrored shine. The furniture and window coverings are luxurious and pristine. Everything coordinates in complimentary shades of blue, jade, and ivory, and there's not a speck of dust in sight. I sit on the finest velvet tufted couch I've ever felt as Moira approaches.

"Not everything is as it seems on the outside." She winks and hands me a cup of tea before sitting opposite of me on a twin sofa. "What can I help you with?"

"Your friend Nondis, would she be able to help me with a project? It would require the use of her forge . I can pay. I have a credit line." I emphasize the word forge, just as she did days ago.

She leans back into the sofa and tilts her head at me. "I don't work with the banks. We'll require payment of a favor up front." Her posture, demeanor and even the lilt of her speech changes. Moira has transformed before my eyes, and it's like I'm sitting before Jake again, getting ready to make a deal.

"What would you have me do?"

"There's an old farm three miles to the west. There is a little boy there who has been slinging rocks, puncturing my pumpkins. He lives alone with his mother. I want you to teach him a lesson." Her face is placid as she sips her tea. "Break his fingers."

This is not how I imagined this going. The room feels smaller, darker somehow as I contemplate how I may have just outed myself for no reason. "I won't do that Moira. Is there anything else I can do?" I place her tea on the saucer, preparing my exit.

"That is my price." She remains firm and expressionless.

"I'll find another way." I stand, as does Moira, her expression once again pleasant and welcoming.

"Good, sweet girl. I knew I was right about you." She places her tea down as well and heads toward a green wall tapestry with vivid blue thistle and winding ivy sewn into the design. "I had to test you. I can't associate with any ole thief."

"How did you know I'm a thief?"

"Wait here. I'll get Nondis." She shifts the tapestry aside, revealing a rune gate etched into the stone wall. She pulls a necklace from below her tunic and places the charm into a notch in the stone. The rune arch lights up, and she steps through a shimmery, watery filament.

The tapestry falls back into place, and I'm left in silence. Permanent rune gates are expensive, and she would have had to know a mage to set one up. Moira is quickly becoming one of the more interesting and potentially dangerous people I've met here.

Warm light flickers around the edges of the tapestry and it's shoved aside as Moira and Nondis step through the gate.

"I only have a moment, Dear," Nondis says as she smooths out several of her wiry grey hairs. "What are you needing forged, and what is your timeline?"

"I need it as soon as possible, but by Saturday morning." I dig in my pocket for the drawing.

"Impossible. I have too many projects going on right now to do anything in two days."

I unfold the drawing, and both of their eyes widen.

"You're going to steal from the Prophet?" Nondis asks, sharing a look with Moira.

"Yes, before the wedding."

She takes the drawing from me with great care. "How did you get this? It's likely from the royal library."

"I don't want to put anyone else at risk."

"Understood. I can get this to you by tomorrow evening. I take great care in what I do. It will be a near-perfect replica. However, it will not function."

"It doesn't need to." Hope rises in my chest, and I fight the smile that creeps around the corners of my mouth. We aren't done negotiating yet. "How much?"

Nondis and Moira share a look, and a mirroring sly grin spreads across both of their faces. "We want to see the look on that heretic's face once he realizes his precious relic isn't working. Get us into that ceremony."

***

The fog has cleared by the time I leave Moira's place. The guard at the castle gate doesn't bother to check my work papers this time, and mutters a morning greeting as I pass through. Too bad the guards at the castle haven't become as lax with me.

I approach the castle, mulling over the plan for tonight. Does it seem taller today? I crane my neck, looking up the side of the south wall I'll be climbing in just a few hours. I stroll, counting and recounting the timing of the guard rotation before finding myself near the kitchen.

Pot's clang, and Chef yells something before a tomato flies through the open window onto the lawn. He chases two workers out the door mere paces from me. Shit, I'm supposed to be sick. I can't get fired before the wedding. Chef shifts his weight, preparing to turn directly toward me.

Without hesitation, I pull myself through a nearby open window. The air is thick with sweet smoke and musk. Hopefully, I was too quick for Chef to notice.

If I've learned one thing, it's not to linger and find out. I turn and bump into a lean, solid mass.

"Hiding from Chef again?" The grey-eyed man from the garden pops a grape into his mouth and peers out the window. His ivory suit is without blemish, and his cravat screams for attention with a bold floral pattern of the court colors. He's easily the most handsome man this side of the castle, and he knows it.

I imagine this is what Eoin would look like had he not lost all of his family wealth when his parents were killed: an unforgettable, striking image of a handsome, wealthy rake.

"I'd hide too if I had to work in there. Or rather, if I had to work at all." He pops another grape in his mouth and studies me intensely. His brows furrow, and he reaches a hand out, shifting the hair by my ear.

I duck out of his grasp and step to the side. "I need to . . ." I glance around the strange room and find two other fae males smoking cigars and watching our interactions, and no discernible exit. It feels similar to a wine cellar or an apothecary, with shelves lining the walls. However, the shelves are covered in rows upon rows of varying cigars and loose-leaf tea and tobacco.

"This way." He tilts his head toward the wall at the opposite side of the room. I hesitate, and the two other males snicker. "I won't bite. You can let me show you the way out, or you can hop back out that window to Chef."

I follow him to a portrait of a long-forgotten battle. He runs a finger along the top and presses in on the frame. The wall cracks open at the paneling seam, and he pushes it open, revealing a dimly lit narrow path. I follow him several feet, and he turns ahead, pushing another panel of wall open. We step into the great hall discreetly behind the piano.

"My friends and I wanted first pick of the cigars for tomorrow's festival before the High Lord takes his pick." He winks at me. "Our little secret."

"Thanks for that, sir. . ." I draw the last word, hoping he will enlighten me as to who he is and how he knows his way around the castle so well.

"I believe you owe me two favors now." He ignores my questioning tone and grins.

"No. I didn't ask for your help that time." I stride for the main entrance, and he follows beside me with fluid grace.

His smile drops, and he sighs. "I suppose you're right."

I stop by the main doors, and he turns to me. "I enjoyed rescuing you today, Miss . . ." He tilts his head, letting the question linger in the air as I did.

"Brandi," I lie and extend my hand.

He takes it in his gloved hand, bringing it to his lips for a quick kiss with a shallow bow. "I'll be seeing you." For a moment, I swear his eyes flick to my ear again.

I slip back out into the blazing sun and jog toward the castle gates. I want to get a nap before I have to climb the castle.