17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

I come to while creeping around the stable entrance. "Oh, thank the sleeping gods, I'm not dead."

Shut up, or you will be , my darkness responds. The pain in my side is excruciating. I glide my hand along the stable wall for support, leaving a trail of red blood all the way to Penny's stall. I stumble in and crawl into the back corner. Penny lies down beside me and nuzzles me. I rest my head on her belly, and her warmth makes my eyelids heavy. I finally notice the small stick protruding from my right side. How I've only managed this one injury is beyond me.

That's because I've already healed your legs, ribs and lung. I also killed two guards. My darkness sounds distant and irritated. You'll need to take it from here, though. I need to rest.

"Wait," I say out loud before remembering to shut my mouth. Who are you? Why are you helping me? I'm met with silence. My eyelids are too heavy now. I can't fight it.

***

Sharp pain shoots through my side as Eoin jostles me awake. His eyes dart over me. "What happened?" he asks, helping me sit up. He glances at my side and swears. My angry wound has dirt and straw stuck to it all around the protruding stick.

"I fell from damn near the top of the castle." I try to stand and can't stop the wail that escapes my lips. I need to get this stick out.

"It's nearly dawn. The other stablemen will be here soon."

The edges of his form blur and a heaviness pulls me into a state of peace, eyelids growing heavy.

He jostles me, and my vision sharpens, hot pain ripping through my side. "Stay with me." He grabs me under the arms and knees and lifts me.

I rest my head on his chest all the way back to the cottage, where he lays me on the bed. I'm cold, and the room starts to spin.

He leaves, and I glimpse myself in the standing mirror. Dried blood runs down my chin and neck onto my shirt. Eoin returns with our healers kit and a bottle of spirits. He begins cutting away at my shirt immediately this time.

"This feels oddly familiar," I say, voice weak and breathy. I'm so tired. He ignores my comment, working silently and swiftly.

"This part is going to hurt," he says and hands me a leather strip to place between my teeth. He pulls the stick out, and he winces when I cry out, furrowing his brows in that all too familiar expression.

"Here." He uncorks our last vial of imitation magic and pours it into my mouth. I heal a little while he pulls more supplies from the kit, and the bleeding slows.

Eoin sews up the puncture wound and pours the spirits over it. The fragrant smell of thyme fills the air as he gently wraps herb-infused bandages around my middle.

"Lie down," he says and pulls a blanket over me.

He leaves and returns with a soapy rag. He brushes the warm cloth over my face and chin in long, careful strokes while running his fingers through the hair around my temple. I close my eyes, utter exhaustion taking hold of me, and I swear I hear the beating of wings nearby. The rag loses some of its warmth by the time he cleans off my neck.

"When are you due for your shift? I need to get back to the stables and clean out the hay in Penny's stall. It's covered in blood." The bed shifts slightly as Eoin stands.

The first rays of light trickle in through our windows. "I should already be there."

"Don't fall asleep. I'll deal with it and be back as soon as I can. I'll get you to the House of Cards or do whatever I must to help you heal."

Eoin leaves, and I'm left to the peaceful stillness of the dawn. The birds sing in cheerful duets, and I don't think our bed has ever felt this comfortable and warm. I could drift off and sleep forever.

My dinner with Eoin comes to mind, as does his proposition. What would it be like if we shared this bed, and it was indeed ours ? I close my heavy eyelids and sink deeper into the comfort of the bed and my imagination.

I slip in and out of sleep, and the room spins as I open my eyes. A dark figure approaches from the corner of the room, its eyes glowing red. If I weren't already slipping between the land of the living and the dead, I might be more afraid.

"Here," a female voice says, holding a cup to my lips. She tips my chin and pours something warm and slightly sweet down my throat. I fall back into my soft, blissful daydream of happily ever after, mouth tasting of iron.

I awake to the sounds of clinking glasses and running water. I stretch, releasing some of the tension in my sore muscles. My mind feels sharper and less muddled.

Making my way into the kitchen, I find Eoin washing his dishes in the sink. There's a sandwich on a plate next to a note.

‘Bronwyn, I came back to check on you during lunch. Please stay here until I return. Eoin'

"Thanks for the sandwich," I say, and Eoin nearly jumps out of his skin. He pulls me in for a hug, and I press my face into his chest.

"What happened?" he asks.

I walk Eoin through the events of last night. I tell him about my brief scuffle with August and how he ultimately hung me outside his window. "The rope!" I say and rush to the window, cramming my neck to see over the castle wall, but it's no use.

"You fell four stories?" Eoin asks.

"Yes. Eoin, we need to go get my rope. If someone sees it dangling . . ."

"There's no rope. Someone must have moved it already. I checked as soon as I cleaned Penny's stall." His eyes dip to my neck, and his tone darkens. "You still had the rope around your neck when I found you. . . I thought you were dead."

"Who moved it?"

"I'm not sure, nor am I sure why." He frowns. "Whoever it was must have also taken care of the guards you killed as well because, from what I can tell, it is just a normal Friday afternoon here. It's like it never happened. Do I need to get you to the House of Cards? You look a little better."

"I feel a little better. I'm mostly healed, but my well is still low. I should be able to refill it tonight while we are out." A flutter of excitement wafts through me. I get to dress up and party with other fae. And listen in on any useful gossip of course, but I'm going to enjoy myself in the process.

Eoin returns to work, and as I feel a little stronger, I take time to bathe and clean my bloody clothes. I change into my running clothes and hit the trail near the visitor's village, testing out my renewed strength.

A few of the trees flash beautiful warm colors, and the air has the musky, sweet smell of decaying leaves. It's hard not to let my mind wander too far as I run. Thoughts of Tomas and how he's doing remain at the forefront of my mind.

I return to our cottage, and the shining golden orb on the center of our counter draws all of my attention.

"Pretty dress," Nondis says from the dining table. She gestures to the voluminous tulle skirt hanging from my bedroom door and joins me in the kitchen. Apparently, I had two deliveries while I was out.

Nondis pours the remainder of her tea into the sink and moves to the door, standing in the doorway. "Remember—get us into that ceremony. You don't want to find out what happens if you end up on our list."

"Both of you meet me here before sunrise. I'll make it happen." How could I forget my ever-mounting pile of impossible tasks?

The metallic golden orb shimmers in the light, and I pick it up. It's roughly the size of a large goose egg and cool to the touch. I wrap it in a towel and shove it into a drawer just as the steady sound of dry crunching pebbles draws near. I peer out the window and spot Hruta exiting a carriage, her sparkling red dress gripped tightly in her arms.

***

Hruta and I finish getting dressed just as Eoin returns from the stables. He sets two bottles of wine and some candles on the kitchen counter. "This one is for you two if you want to get a head start on tonight." He hands Hruta one of the wine bottles. "I trust you will be gone most of the night," he asks while pulling me a few steps out of Hruta's earshot.

"The maid that stole that relic drawing is coming over." He steps closer, and his arm brushes against mine. "She's going to help me get into the castle tonight. I'm going to place the rune marks for tomorrow's distraction."

"She fancies you?"

"She does." He swallows hard, and my stomach flips. I'm not jealous. Right? He does this stuff all the time.

He reaches up and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. "You look beautiful tonight. Keep your wits about you. Don't forget our benefactor should show up at some point."

A loud pop draws our attention to Hruta, who stands at the counter. She pours two glasses of rich, velvety wine, humming to herself.

***

Hruta and I pass by the few farms on our way toward Halivaara, including Moira's. "Oh look!" Hruta holds our lantern high and pulls us off the path. Three large ivory carriages barrel past us. The white stallions move in unison as decorated soldiers hold the reigns. "The High Lord and his guests. We may see some of them while we are out tonight. Isn't that exciting?"

It feels like taking in the castle again for the very first time. In the valley below, countless paper lanterns fly up between the rows and rows of terracotta roofs, speckling the sky like a field of yellow wildflowers. That bubbly, weightless feeling wells within me, and I mirror Hruta's exuberant smile.

We arrive at the restaurant where the rest of the kitchen staff is meeting for dinner. The line stretches out the door, and Hruta has to shout over the street orchestra, "They're full. We will have to go somewhere else unless we want to wait." The streets are packed as the whole city prematurely celebrates the wedding. Royals and castle employees will spend a lot of coin here tonight. It's good for everyone.

We skip dinner and head to the House of Cards, hoping to beat the crowd. Hruta leans on the back bar and orders us two drinks and a pumpkin and fig pie. "We missed dinner. I'm not missing out on pie," she says as we find a small table to sit.

My back straightens as the beaded curtain parts, and in walks August and two other fae males. August makes eye contact with me, and a shiver runs up my spine. The last time I was this close to this man, he tried to kill me. The glass of mead I've finished lends me courage, and I narrow my eyes at him. He smirks and continues to the bar.

"Ahh! I was hoping we would get to see some of them." Hruta fidgets in her chair and bites her lip. "That's Lucanis, the High Lord's son." She points to a very familiar grey-eyed man. He catches my eye and lifts his chin in acknowledgment before continuing to one of two private card tables across the hall.

"That's Raynor, High Lord of the Yule Court," Hruta says, gesturing to a dark fae man with black and grey speckled hair. "Raynor and August are allies. I'm not surprised they're going to play together."

August and Raynor sit across from one another, and Luc stands near the table, scanning the room. The bartender brings a round of drinks to their table and waves three ladies down from the second floor. August ignores them and instead stares at me, swirling his drink.

"Oh, they're here," Hruta says, pointing at some of our colleagues through the beaded curtain. "Let's play some cards. I'm ready to win some coin. Can you get us a couple more drinks and meet me over there?"

I walk to the long polished bar and order two drinks. I shift my skirts before sitting on the tall stool while I wait. Lucanis leaves his card table and approaches, sliding next to me.

"I see you've been giving my companion over there some very unwelcoming looks," Lucanis says, gesturing to August.

"Well, maybe your friend should reign in the cold assassin energy." I cover my mouth. "I'm sorry, my Lord."

He laughs. "My Lord! You finally figured out who I am." He leans into me, dropping his voice to a near whisper. "I don't blame you. . . for the dirty looks. He can be quite the angry asshat. Call me Luc." He extends a gloved hand, and I shake it.

"Sven ran off with a whore already, and I find myself without a partner for the game. I believe you owe me two favors." His eyes slither down, lingering on the exposed portion of my legs. "A pretty girl such as yourself could be quite the asset."

"One favor," I correct him and glance over my shoulder at Hruta. She stares at me with wide eyes, and the girl next to her elbows her, pointing to the cards on the table.

"Of course. Shall we?" He extends his gloved hand.

The thought of sitting that close to the man who tried to kill me last night sours my stomach, but I try to remain rational. If a game of cards is how this seemingly very powerful fae male wants to collect my debt, I'll count myself fortunate. And August isn't likely to try something somewhere so public.

I take his hand, letting him lead me to the card table. Hruta's jaw drops as she watches Luc pull me along.