I chuckled. “I think so, but I can’t remember much. Ogma was pretty creepy. Her giant eyeball.”
“Ooh, yes. And that gigantic head. I wonder what she looks like.”
I glanced over at him. “Has no one ever seen her?”
He shook his head.
“She stays in her hut. To protect her book.” He looked over at me with a sharp fae grin. “Can you imagine the chaos if that book fell into the wrong hands? Every fae name in existence recorded in blood. It would all come to an end very quickly.”
It was getting cold when the sidhe came into view, and I was exhausted from my drug-fuelled jaunt through the forest. As we stepped inside into the warmth, I shrugged off my bow and quiver and left them by my pallet, then followed Nua and Gillie into the kitchen.
“Tea?” Gillie was over at the shelves. “Then I’ll make us some dinner.”
Nua shot me a quick, concerned glance. “Gillie, Ash killed one of the Carlin’s guards.”
He paused, then turned to look at me. “Are you alright, lad?”
I nodded. “I’m fine. It was quick.”
“Good for you, lad. You were made for a bow, I think.” He chuckled as he moved to another shelf and grabbed a bottle instead. “A proper drink then.”
I watched him warily. “What… to celebrate?”
That seemed morbid, even for the Folk.
“No, because killing is never easy. Well, it shouldn’t be, anyway.”
He collected three wooden cups and placed them on the table, then pulled the cork from the bottle. My stomach turned a little as the scent of whisky drifted over while he poured small measures for all of us.
“Try not to think about it too much, Ash,” Nua said softly as we joined Gillie at the table and picked up our cups.
“Really, I’m fine,” I insisted, but I could hear the vacant edge in my voice.
It felt real now. I knew I’d done it—I’d killed someone. But rather than guilt, I felt only calm acceptance. It had been me or him. And I refused to let the Carlin take me again. I refused to let her win.
And now it would be easier, when I went to kill her and her sons. Now I knew I could do it.