Fuck Caom. Fuck the Carlin and her sons. Fuck her hidden guards. I was leaving.
I strode to the treeline but froze before stepping foot into the shadowed depths of the forest. How was it sodarkin there? It was mid-morning now, the sun up and the land bright around me, but it was like the trees sucked up all the light before it even came close to hitting the forest floor. I couldn’t see anything beyond the first row of thick trunks.
Taking a shaky breath, I took a single step forwards. Then another.
I grinned in triumph when I stepped past the first row of trees, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. The Folk couldn’t lie, my ass. Caom had just lied right to my face about not being able to leave.
I was lifting my boot to take another step when pain exploded through every inch of my body. I flew back through the air, narrowly missing a thick tree trunk, to land with a pained thud on the grass on the other side of the treeline.
I panted, wild eyes darting around to try and spot whatever had shoved me before it slunk back into the darkness of the forest. But there was no movement. Nothing. I got shakily to my feet, wincing at the pain in my tailbone, and stared uncertainly at the trees.
After moving further down the treeline, I swallowed and stepped closer again, slower and quieter this time. I held my breath as I breached the forest, wincing when a twig snapped under my boots.
I was shoved back again, sailing through the air and skidding over the ground, my lungs emptying in a painful rush. I gasped for breath, staring up at the strangely lit sky.
A melodic trill from nearby on my left made me jump. I sat up, breathing hard, and stared at the blackbird hopping over the grass. It gazed back at me, head cocking, before it hopped closer.
“Are you one of them?” The words burst out of me. “Are you the one who’s watched me ever since I was a kid? I’ve seen you. I noticed you.”
My tone was accusing, and the rational part of my brain was trying to calmly tell me I was yelling at abird.
“Have you been spying on me? Telling her things? Well tell her I don’t want her fucking protection. I don’t want her fucking cottage or her food or tofind my true self.Iwant to leave.”
The blackbird’s head cocked again as it gazed at me with beady black eyes. As I panted, staring at it, I felt myself deflate and my eyes filled up with tears. I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms round them as I stared at the forest.
“I don’t want to be here,” I whispered, feeling pathetic and childish, but no one was here to see it except the bird. “I want Dad back. And Mags.”
I let out a low sob. “Am I losing my mind?”
Arguably I was, as I sat in the grass and said all this to a blackbird. It trilled again, hopping so close that it brushed against my boot. Then it hopped up onto my foot. I stared at it, too shocked to move or cry anymore.
The bird trilled one last time before bursting into flight, making me jump. I stared after it as it took off, dread filling my belly.
What if itwasa spy for the Carlin? Was it going to go back and tell her everything I’d said? Would she send her black-eyed son here to kill me?
I slowly got to my feet on shaky legs. Suddenly, the cottage seemed like the safest place. With one last look at the forest, I turned and headed back inside, then stood there in silence in the main room.
What the hell was I supposed to do now? Sit here and make myself comfortable? Eat? Drink wine? Caom had brought several bottles with him, and they now rested on the lowest shelf in the pantry.
Actually, wine sounded like a fan-fucking-tastic idea. I strode into the kitchen and towards the tiny pantry with determined steps, faltering only when I was bending down to grab a bottle.
Memories pinged again, words written in the books I’d hungrily consumed as a kid. You weren’t supposed to eat or drink anything the Folk offered you. You weren’t supposed to consume anything from their world, or you would never be able to leave.
I backed away from the wine and the pantry, retreating into the living room. Feeling utterly hopeless, I stared around at the small space. I was going to lose my mind if I just had to sit here in silence, but I wasn’t willing to wander off alone. I had no idea what would happen to me if one of the Folk found me on my own.
With dragging steps, I walked over to the bookcase. The books looked ancient, half of them crumbling where they sat, threatening to turn to dust if I moved them even an inch.
Rudimentary Charms to Draw in the Plain Ones. Care for Changelings. Basic Recipes for Sickness. The Drachmsmith’s Garden.
The titles all sounded ominous, but that last one snagged my gaze and held it.Drachmsmith.Why did I recognise that word? It was totally foreign to me, but it felt like I’d heard it before.
Another book’s spine caught my eye.Potions for the Novice Drachmsmith.
For some reason, something made me reach out and gently pull that one free. I exhaled in relief when it stayed intact in my hands, but the stiff front cover was loose as I carried it over to the sofa and sat down, resting it on my knees. Gingerly opening it, I stared at the handwritten message on the first page.
To my darling Briordan,
May this start you on your journey to becoming as great as I know you will. I expect you to have brewed an exquisite flask of something that will keep me up—and I mean up—all night when I return from the troop. I miss you terribly, and I haven’t even left yet. But when you see this, I’ll be on the journey already to the Seelie lands. I’ll need a stiff drink on my return (and a stiff something else).