I tossed a grape into the air and caught it in my mouth. The trick was knowing you had more time than you thought. Rushing led to failure. “One always appears powerful amidst great weakness.”
Tadhg looked ready to blow his stack. Ruairi stalked forward, fangs on full display. Tadhg held up a hand, and the pooka stopped like a good little pup. I sniggered to myself.
“Ruairi is a person, not your own personal transportation,” Tadhg insisted. “Shift him again, and you’ll suffer the consequences.”
“And those would be?” Hungover Tadhg wouldn’t hurt a flea. What was I saying? Sober Tadhg couldn’t hurt me either. Sure, he could kill me. But he’d have to get the jump on me first, and when I came back, I’d be owed retribution. And I knew how to make death last a long, long time.
My brother’s green eyes flared. “Don’t test me.”
“Ohhh, someone’s in a mood.” I shifted a bottle of puítin from the drinks cart. “Here. This’ll make you feel better.”
I set it on the desk in front of him. Tadhg didn’t bother picking it up.
I clapped my hands. One more order of business, and I’d be finished for the day. “Right. If that’s all, I’ll be heading off. Ruairi”—I gave the beast a mock-salute—“lovely as always to see you. Do us a favor, tonight: be sure to piss outside.”
“One feckin’ time!” he snarled. Again, Tadhg held him back.
I ran upstairs for a shirt, changed, washed the blood from my hands, and headed back out into the courtyard. Muireann called my name from the edge of the fountain, where she was catching the last of the sun’s rays before it dipped below the high stone walls. I gave a dismissive wave, having absolutely no desire whatsoever to speak with her.
Once clear of the wards, I evanesced to the farthest edge of Tearmann, to a cottage built on the southernmost tip. You could see Airren’s west coast jutting out in the distance. Glittering merrow danced beneath the waves.
I eased open the rusted gate, traipsed across black earth that rivaled the Forest, and rapped on the door with a knuckle.
“Come in,” a haunting voice called from within.
I opened the door but didn’t bother crossing the threshold. Wouldn’t want the sink of death clinging to my clean shirt. “Ned! It’s been ages.”
A chuckle lifted from the shadows. “Who do ye need me to kill?”
7
Eava appeared in my bedroom,humming away to herself like she always did in the kitchens.
I had to grip the towel around my waist to keep from flashing the old witch. “Dammit, Eava. You could’ve knocked.”
She waved a dismissive hand and pottered on over to the desk. “Nothin’ I haven’t seen before.”
“Just because you changed my feckin’ nappy when I was a child, doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with you seeing me in the nip now.”
She set shears and a razor on the desk. “As if I have any interest in seeing yer little doo-da.”
“It’s not lit—Never mind.” I threw on my new breeches, fastening them as quickly as I could so the old witch didn’t get an eyeful of my not-little manhood. When I turned back around, she was waiting behind my chair with her arms crossed.
My arse barely touched the seat before she grabbed either side of my head and forced my face this way and that like I’d seen Oscar do with the horse I’d acquired from Robert.
“What’s the occasion, my boy?” she asked.
“Why does there need to be an occasion for a haircut?”
“Here.” She shifted a plate of tarts onto the desk. “This’ll help ye get outta yer piss-poor mood.”
“I’m not in a—”
The witch stuffed a tart into my mouth, getting crumbs all over my new breeches.Maybe I was in a mood, but that was only because my mother had me kill three humans in the middle of the feckin’ night, and I was wrecked.
“Just a bit off the sides?” She tugged at my ears like she wanted to rip them clean off.
“Have I offended you, Eava?”