The forest was completely still and unnervingly quiet as I followed the path Nua had told me about. When the edge of unseelie land came into view, my heart leapt into my throat. I followed the treeline until my cottage appeared, and I stopped dead.
I didn’t really know why my eyes grew hot as I stared at it. I’d hated it there, hadn’t I? Surely? But it felt like I… hadn’t. It felt like I’d been happy there. I missed it. I missed how simple everything was before I’d been chained up and made full fae and had my fucking arm cut off.
I stayed in the forest until I was directly behind the cottage. There were no guards at all. It was completely still and quiet and I could see the Carlin’s palace rising in the distance, some of its windows winking with firelight.
I raised my fingers to the spot beneath my ear. It was no longer cold from the Carlin’s cut. Did that mean I wouldn’t be able to cross over onto unseelie land? Would it reject me violently like the forest had before? I still remembered the intense pain.
Letting out a shaky breath, I took a small step forward. Then another. When I stepped out of the forest, I froze up and waited.
Nothing. I couldn’t help but grin as I crept towards my cottage. When I heard a soft clucking coming from inside the coop, my throat closed up. The hens were still alive. How? Who was keeping them alive? I looked around warily, fingers twitching beside my dagger.
I silently crept to the kitchen window and peered in. It was dark inside and didn’t look any different to how I’d left it that night after making my potion outside in the snow. I could see the basket of stuff still on the sideboard—my candle, my notebook, the ingredients.
I snuck round to the front door of the cottage and eased it open as slowly as possible. Still no sound from anywhere around me. Relaxing just a little once I was inside and the door was shut behind me, I crept cautiously into the living room.
It still smelled faintly of wood and smoke. Of my lavender soap and rosemary oil. The tub was in its usual spot to the side of the fire, and the stack of my books was still in front of the old bookcase. I stood there, frozen for a long moment as a strange, intense yearning tightened my chest. Why was I missing this place?
I stared at the rug, remembering sitting on it in front of the lit fire. Alone. But… happy? It felt like I’d been happy, which I didn’t understand.
The memories were making me tense, so I quickly walked towards the kitchen to start gathering my stuff. I couldn’t be here long. I had no idea if the fact that I had stepped foot on unseelie land meant the Carlin could sense me here. I didn’t want to wait around to find out.
As I reached the doorway to the kitchen, the faintest whisper of movement pricked my ears. My branch arm was already whipping my bow off my back before I’d even spun round, and I aimed my arrow directly at the face of the black-haired, black-eyed fae who appeared in the bedroom doorway.
He was gripping his own long blade, his posture tense and ready to strike, but the moment he saw me, his breath shuddered out of him and the sword clattered to the floor.
“Ash.”