I jumped when Lonan suddenly straightened from his arms-folded slouch against the back of the building. But he didn’t say anything, and he didn’t move any closer to stop me—to pull his blade free and slit my throat.
My boots felt glued to the damp grass, and we stood in silence for a long moment, like we were in some weird unknown stand-off. Eventually I turned and slowly walked away, back round the building, still feeling his eyes on my back until I slipped round the corner.
A group of Folk, both male and female, were lounging decadently on the grass outside the tent nearest the building I’d gone behind. All of them had copper hair the colour of fox fur, and their faces were narrow and sly, with orange strips painted over their eyes.
Two were locked in a passionate embrace while most of them sat playing some game with a pair of dice. One of them was stretched out on the ground, leaning back on his elbow with a goblet in his hand, and I could feel his russet eyes on me as I walked past.
“Where’s your gancanagh, mortal?” he called out in a smooth voice.
I stopped dead, eyes darting around nervously as half of the group looked up and shot me smirks.
“I—um, at the table.”
The fae snorted and tipped back his goblet. “Well, if you want a half-decent fuck for once, I’m game.”
I stiffened. “I haven’t fucked him.”
“No?” He smirked at me, eyes gleaming as they tracked slowly down my frame. “He must be losing his touch. Or maybe his power is just fading. Do you know what a gancanagh is, mortal?”
I hesitated. It felt wrong to admit ignorance of any kind to the Folk, but in the end I gave a stiff shake of my head.
The fae barked out a loud laugh. “Gancanagh secrete a toxin through their skin that can seduce any mortal. You really must have our blood in your veins if you’ve resisted him.”
He looked up at me through hooded eyes, lips curving again. “Of course, some of us are charming by nature. Did you say yes to that fuck? I can’t remember. I’m drunk.”
“No,” I gritted out.
He sniffed, shrugging one shoulder as he turned back to their game. “Shame. Todde, are these your cogged dice? Your trickery astounds me.”
The group all broke into loud, barking laughter, but it stopped just as abruptly. All eyes widened as they silently stared beyond my shoulder. My back stiffened, knowing what I’d see if I turned round.
Lonan’s eyes were already on me when I hesitantly looked back, too dark and too intense within the black strip of pigment that made him look even more otherworldly. I stood frozen, not sure what to do. Did I ignore him and walk off? He hadn’t seemed to want to speak to me before, so I didn’t particularly want to repeat that painful, stilted conversation.
In the end, he turned and slunk off behind the tents, not even sparing a single glance at the group of Folk lounging on the grass.
I heard one of them exhale and mutter, “Tough luck, mortal.”
My gut clenched into a tight ball. I didn’t want to be here anymore, surrounded by drunk Folk with the assassin prince skulking in the shadows, watching me.
I quickly walked back to the long table where Caom was still sitting, swaying and singing with the selkies seated beside him.
“Caom,” I said quietly, touching his shoulder and glancing round nervously.
He swung round and blinked up at me, then almost fell as he stumbled out of his seat. I had to steady him with a hand on his elbow.
“Did you find the café? Did you get a drink?”
I shook my head, swallowing.
“I think I want to go,” I told him quietly. “I’m sorry. I can walk back on my own—”
“No, I’ll take you! I’ll come back after.” He spun and fumbled with his goblet, spilling half of it before downing the rest. “Let’s go.”
I forced myself not to look around nervously for any lurking figures in the shadows as we left the party behind, heading back towards my cottage.
“I really am sorry,” I said to Caom as he stumbled drunkenly alongside me. “To take you away from the party.”
“Bah.” He waved a hand. “It’ll still be in full swing when I get back.”