I could do this on my own.
I had never met anyone as repulsed by me. At first, I’d assumed it was because Keelynn was married. Then she’d told me her husband was dead. Had Fiadh’s magic finally worn off? The damned witch had taken my ability to shapeshift, weaving it into my curse. My face and form changed from woman to woman. They were supposed to see what they wanted to see—the man of their “dreams.”
It seemed like I was Keelynn’s nightmare.
Rían went back to the flowers. “Have you thought about changing into something that’s not covered in shite? You may look like a roguish pirate prince, but you smell like weeds and dirt. If you need some clean clothes—”
“I don’t want your damn clothes.” I escaped to the study to find the map of Airren spread on my desk. I’d love to make it to Lill tomorrow, but from the heaviness in my bones, I’d probably end up sleeping away most of the day.
Meaning it’d be another late start.
My eyes drifted toward Tearmann. Our world, banished to the far reaches of the northwest, felt more confined every day as more humans came to our shores.
The problem wasn’t that humans were all bad but that they had been taught that we were evil monsters. Some of us were, but not the ones they were most scared of.
Pooka? Polite to a fault. Sure, Ruairi had killed me once or twice, but I’d deserved it. He certainly hadn’t been trying to eat me. Pooka, like most Danú, were herbivores.
Banshees? They would rattle your eardrums, but that was about it. Cloda, the Queen of the Banshees, was my godmother. And out of all my aunts, she was the most pleasant.
Grogoch? Smelly, but their great sense of humor made up for it.
“What happens when you reach the Forest?” Rían asked from the doorway.
“I’ll pay the tax for the ring.” A trip to the underworld would be worth it.
“And if the Queen decides to kill her instead?”
I shrugged. “If the Queen kills the wasp, then it’s no skin off my back as long as I have the ring first.”
The ring was the only way to free myself of these curses and release the rest of my magic.
Well, not theonlyway.
But I’d given up on falling in love with someone—and having her love me in return—a long, long time ago.
If the price of my freedom was the life of one infuriating human, then so be it.
“By the way,” Rían said, “they’re holding executions in Mántan and Longshadow tomorrow.”
Dammit. More of our citizens losing their lives over Airren’s asinine laws. No magic. No glamours. No retaliating when attacked. No hope of any quality of life in that cursed country. “Can you make both?”
He shook his head. “They’re both at noon.”
“Have Ruairi oversee Mántan.” It was closer, so he wouldn’t waste too much magic getting there.
“I’m giving you five more days to sort this shite your way. Then I’m stepping in.”
Either way, in five days, that ring would be mine.
The bastard shoved my shoulder hard enough to send me back a step. “Now, where the hell is my cufflink?”
* * *
The following day, I arrived to Keelynn’s carriage with a plan formed in the wee hours of the morning. There may have been alcohol involved.
My head gave an answering thump.
Alotof alcohol.