“What if the Queen leaves the Forest?”
“She doesn’t.” And if she did, there would be a lot more to worry about than that feckin’ dagger.
“But what if you convinced her to? I’m human. And we both know I have it in me to stab someone.”
“You’re not human,” I said. “You’re mine.”
28
The rug was hideous.Why anyone would choose that shade of shite-brown was beyond me. Still, there was no sense spending an excessive amount of coin on decorating the cottage when there was no knowing when, or even if, Aveen would be able to call it home. And if she did make it here alive, that woman was liable to sweep in and change everything. Best to leave itthe way it was.
“Should hold in a storm, which is about as good an indication as any that yer one won’t be drowned when it rains,” Marcus said, the smoke from his pipe vanishing into the salty air. The sea crashed on the horizon.
When I’d arrived this morning, I couldn’t believe the progress he’d made while I was back in Tearmann. All that was left to do was straighten the hinges on the door that seemed to go crooked every other day and give the place a lick of paint.
I turned away from the house, catching a glimpse of Phil meandering by a thicket that still needed cut. I’d decided to leave the overgrown gardens to their own devices so Aveen could have more weeds to play with.
Marcus was still staring at the cottage, puffing on that pipe. I couldn’t have done this without him, meaning I was in his debt. A place I never stayed for long. “Thank you,” I said.
He wasn’t looking at me, but his mouth twisted into a smirk around his pipestem. “That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?”
Ungrateful oaf. I fought off a smile of my own. Phil seemed to have gotten stuck behind some bushes. They rattled, and he bleated. Served him right after shitting all over the lawn.
“You know where I can get a tin of paint?” I asked.
Marcus shifted on his feet, tucking his free hand into his pocket. “Might. What color would ye be wantin’?”
There was only one color I wanted painted on my human’s door.
“Blue.”
* * *
The apartment I’d rented in Graystones seemed to be empty. I didn’t bother checking to see if any of the furniture remained. None of it mattered anymore. So, instead of stopping, I kept my glamour in place until I reached Meranda’s shop, finding her where she always seemed to be: hunched over her sewing machine at the back of the empty store.
Meranda’s head snapped up when the doorbell jingled. She was on her feet a moment later, stalking between dress forms and hanging garments, closing the distance between us.
Before she could say what was clearly burning on her tongue, I told her, “You will come with me.”
She scoured the empty shop over my shoulder.“Is that an official order from the throne, then? Because I do not see yer brother.”
“It is a request,” I said through my teeth.
Meranda crossed her arms over her chest. “Didn’t sound like a request.”
“Come with me,please.”
A smile. “That’s better. Where are we goin’?”
I held out my hand. When she took it without hesitation, I tried not to think too much about it. Except, why didn’t she hesitate? Why wasn’t she pressing me for details? She wasn’t foolish enough to truly trust me, was she? Why wasn’t she terrified? She should have been. Had my leniency on Anwen already reached this far? Was my reputation in tatters already?
Meranda’s magic mingled with mine, allowing me to bring her all the way to the portal in Hollowshade. I wouldn’t dare arrive any closer to the cottage for fear of someone finding out where I planned on hiding my human.IfI could get her out of Tearmann.
Meranda didn’t ask questions. She simply followed me down the embankment toward the sea, away from the faint orange glow of the village.
When we reached the cottage and I found the door had been painted blue, it took everything in me not to grin. The shade was perfect. Aveen would love it.
Meranda reached for the gate. A hairy head popped up from the other side of the wall, making us both jump.