Staying perfectly still for a few more seconds, I listened intently for any other tiny sounds around me. The forest was dead quiet. Keeping my bow and arrow in my hands, I turned to start heading back towards Nua and Gillie’s.
I was a little shaken. That guard had gotten close without me noticing him. How had I realised he was there? I couldn’t remember now—couldn’t remember what had made me freeze and glance to the side to see the flash of silver.
A little black fox darted between the trees to my right as I walked, keeping pace for a while before vanishing. By the time I reached the sidhe it was dusk, and I was hungry.
“How many today, lad?” Gillie asked when I stepped inside, my cheeks flushed from the faint cold.
“Six.”
He chuckled. “She won’t have any guards left soon.”
“Then maybe she should stop sending them after me.”
He grunted, setting down his book and heaving himself up from the ancient, sagging sofa that I was fairly sure was older than he was.
Nua appeared in the kitchen doorway, wiping his hands on a linen cloth. “Are you alright?”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes even as I smiled. He asked me that every single day when I got home from hunting guards, and I always said the same thing back.
“I’m fine, Nua. Still in one piece.”
It was a morbid little joke, because a piece of me was somewhere on the Carlin’s land. I tried not to think about what she’d done with my arm—whether she’d eaten it—because it was pointless.
Gillie chuckled, clapping me on the back and leading me into the kitchen after I removed my bow and quiver.
“Bet you’re starving. You’re starting to eat more than me.”
I snorted. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
For some reason, a bolt of sadness hit me as I walked into the kitchen. I tried to shake it off when I realised I could smell something familiar—something like aniseed and bark.
“Is that tea?” I asked, walking over to the cauldron and leaning over it to breathe deep.
Gillie chuckled. “Nua said you’d mentioned the one you love. I picked it up at the market.”
I grinned over at him. “Thanks.”
“Pour us each a cup, lad.”
I did, hurriedly, eager to drink the tea I hadn’t even realised I’d missed that much. When I took my first sip, it brought back memories of sitting on the rug in front of the fire in the cottage. Laughing about something. Smiling. Feeling happier than I could ever remember being. I flushed and quickly put my mug down to take Nua’s and Gillie’s over to the table.
Why did I keep having memories of being happy in the cottage? I hadn’t been happy there. I’d been miserable, sitting there alone, trying to keep myself busy with gardening and cooking and potioncraft. Had I really been losing my mind in there? Sometimes it felt like I still was. Like I was missing something. Like there was something important I’d forgotten.
My fingers twitched with the urge to reach up to my throat after I set down the mugs, but I didn’t know why, so I resisted it. I sat down at the table as Nua brought over bowls of stew, smiling up at him when he set mine in front of me.
“I picked up some more arrows for you from the fletcher,” Gillie told me as he sat down. “You’re getting through them fast.”
I chuckled. “Thanks.”
The kitchen was even warmer than usual as we ate, and halfway through the meal I rose from the table to get us all some water.
“It’s kind of warm in here today,” I commented as I sat back down before gulping down half my water.
Gillie grunted. “The Mild Months are just around the corner.”
I stilled at that, setting down my cup and licking my lips as my eyes darted to Nua. He looked tense, but he gave me a small smile.
“That means the courts will come into the forest. To go to the Midsith for the transfer of power.”