The bartender told me to get the hell out.
Apparently, we weren’t far enough west for me to drink alongside the humans.
Back outside, a black cat licked its paw beneath one of the wall lanterns. Instead of running away, it sauntered toward me, rubbing itself against my boot.Must be a female then, I thought with a laugh, giving her chin a scratch.
When I reached the green-door pub at the back, I nodded to two pooka drinking hot ale by the entrance as I made my way toward the bar. A barmaid with dark curls poured a pint of stout for a human leering at her chest. The low-cut dress she wore left little to the imagination.
A pity, really. I had a very vivid imagination.
When she saw me, her pouty pink lips lifted into a smile. She abandoned the tap to ask me what I was drinking—much to the chagrin of now-scowling human. It wasn’t unheard of for humans to venture over to our side of the wall. Unlike them, we didn’t care who came in as long as they didn’t cause trouble.
And they were always good for a bit of amusement.
The stronger the drink the better. Anything to rid my mind of today’s revelations. “Puítin, please.”
With swaying hips, the woman retrieved a clay jug at the back of the bar. I paid her for the drink, fighting the tug in my core as I turned away. If I lingered, I knew how tonight would end. Wouldn’t be the worst of fates. At least it’d rid my body of the week’s worth of tension.
The leprechaun smoking next to the open fire gave me a wave. He looked vaguely familiar. Was his name John or Johnny or James or Jimmy? Something with a “J” anyway. I returned the wave, continuing to an empty table beside a man in a garish gold cloak clutching a crystal glass.
My sore arse ached the moment it landed on the wooden stool. When the puítin hit my throat, I forgot all about that pain and focused on the burn spreading to my chest. The second gulp left the room hazy and dull. The third turned the conversations and laughter around me into muffled murmurs, helping me focus on the only thing I wanted.
My ring.
It always came back to the ring. I could still beg Rían for help. He could try and reason with the wasp, explain as best he could what had happened that night. Would she believe him though? Doubtful. That woman had made her mind up about the Danú before we met. She hated us. Hated me.
I shouldn’t have said that to you. It was awful, and I’m sorry.
She may hate me, but tonight she’d apologized. And appeared genuinely remorseful.
How long had we been traveling together? Three days? Four? I couldn’t rightly remember. She wouldn’t have apologized to me on day one. Not a hope. Maybe I was starting to get to her. What if I gave it a little bit longer? Then I wouldn’t have to get my brother involved.
I lifted my glass.
Fire, fire, drink it down. . .
I could try to work around my promise to keep the events of that night a secret and tell her the truth.
Right. The truth.
That woman wouldn’t believe a word out of my cursed mouth. And with my promise complicating things, it’d be tricky to navigate. If I had on the ring, I could explain everything.
Maybe if she knew I couldn’t lie either, she’d soften even more.
All I had to do was convince her to let me “borrow” it. And if that didn’t work, I could bring her to my castle and show her Aveen. There’d be no denying it then.
I’d need permission from the Queen to cross the Black Forest twice, with assurance that she would forego the tax or accept my life in return. Once to arrive and once to leave. Couldn’t hurt to ask. Rían wouldn’t like it one bit though.
I should’ve known this mess was my brother’s fault.
Why did he have to know? He hadn’t told me about Keelynn, so I didn’t feel obliged to tell him either.
Keelynn.
That woman just . . .
I guzzled what was left in my glass.
The barmaid watched from behind the taps, rubbing her fingers across her lips. She didn’t look like a wasp. She looked soft and malleable. And the coy smile she aimed at me tugged those invisible threads.