The scent of thyme and smoke rose with another gust, snapping my skirts. “Are ye not? I heard ye were askin’ after a wicked fae.”
Bloody hell.
My eyes darted to the alley where I’d been with Eithne, too far away for this woman to have overheard our conversation.“How did you know I was looking for him?” I rushed, my heartbeat picking up.
Her hand fell onto the plank. I withdrew more money and dropped it into her palm. The coins disappeared into her apron pocket.
“The wind tells me its secrets, child.”
That answer hadn’t been worth the five coins. Still, I dug through my purse for five more. There was really only one other question I needed to ask. The fae’s—Rían’s—parting words had plagued me nearly as much as his kiss.
“He said he’d finally found me. What did he mean?”
Her hand jerked, closing around mine in a ferocious grip. The coins bounced off of the plank, landing on the cobblestones.I stood, trying—and failing—to pull free from her age-spotted hand. Her spindly arms were like twigs, papery thin skin covering bone. How was she so bloody strong?
Her white hair lifted from her shoulders as if she were floating underwater. “Pity the girl from Graystones who loved a heartless prince. For the only way to save him was at her own expense.”
Her hand opened, sending me stumbling into the next stall. The wind continued to rise, tangling hair about her face. Waves crashed over the docks, slamming ships against the wooden planks, testing the strength of their tethers.
The woman rose slowly, her voice growing louder, “Pity the girl from Graystones who loved a heartless prince . . .”
She must have me confused with someone else.
Vellana had two princes.Two princes I’d never met.
“Pity the girl from Graystones. . .” The rhyme became a singsong, dancing on swirling gales. Doors on shops creaked. Shutters banged. Over and over and over she shouted.
Two men in red livery burst from the pub, catching their tricorn hats before the wind stole them away. Drawing their swords, searching the dark street. Their gazes landed on the fortune teller, still singing the haunting tune.
I took off, sprinting through the empty streets. Where had Padraig parked the bloody carriage? My heart clattered against my ribs and my lungs screamed as I searched up and down, eventually finding a familiar figure hunched atop the carriage near the mill.
A single clap of thunder echoed over the low buildings.
When Padraig saw me, he made to climb down from his perch. I waved him back to his seat. He was too slow, and I needed to escape.
I launched myself inside, slammed the door, and banged on the ceiling, bellowing for him to go. A whip cracked, and the carriage lurched forward.
I pressed the heel of my hand against my racing heart, trying and failing to calm my ragged breathing. The raging storm left the carriage rocking from side to side like a ship at sea.
The pounding of the horses’ hooves grew distant, as if they no longer pulled the carriage. When I shoved the drape aside to look out the window, we were still flying down the dark road.
Heaviness settled over me, as if an invisible fog had descended within the carriage’s tufted walls.
And then I smelled cinnamon and spices.
The fae who had invaded my mind appeared out of thin air on the bench beside me, a tilted smile on his full lips and an elbow propped against the dark window.
“Rían?” I whispered.
The man’s eyes narrowed into slits. “I see you learned my name.”
5
Rían drummedhis fingers against the knees of his black breeches, which hugged his toned thighs like a second skin.“Who gave it to you?” he growled.
The carriage lurched over potholes and stones, leaving me gripping the bench’s wooden arm to keep from careening into my uninvited guest. “Why does it matter?”
“I need to know who to kill.” He said it so blasé, as if discussing his plans for dinner.