Chapter Twenty-One
Ash
“Tell me what happened, my dear,” the Brid said in a soft voice as the carriage started moving, making my heart clench in panic. “Tell me what that hag did to you.”
I swallowed, trying to tamp down the chill that settled in my bones when I remembered waking up in the Carlin’s throne room. Hanging there alone as the last of my strength faded until I was blind and the pressing darkness of death tried to smother me.
“She stole me from my home,” I said woodenly. “And kept me on her land, hoping I’d shed my mortal skin. When I didn’t, she chained me up in her throne room until I died and… came back. She said she was going to eat me bit by bit to steal my seelie power and keep the Mild Months from coming.”
The Brid trembled with fury. “That bitch thinks she can beat me?”
I waited for her to say anything else. For her to at least ask if I was alright—to say that she was glad I was here.
“And what happened there?” she asked instead, nose wrinkling slightly as she nodded at my spindly branch fingers sticking out of the cuff of my shirt. They clenched into a fist in reaction.
“Her eldest son cut off my arm as I was escaping.”
She quirked a brow at that. “And who gave you the new one?”
“I…” Panic and the inability to lie closed my throat up. I pictured Gillie—not Nua—so I could manage to scrape out, “A solitary fae.”
“Mm.” She was watching me closely. “It certainly looks crude.”
Anger made my branch fist clench tighter, the wood creaking. I forced my hand to relax.
“And howdidyou remain hidden in the forest, dear?”
The Brid’s voice was light, but I could hear the hard, calculating edge to it.
“I learned how to hunt. I’ve been killing the Carlin’s guards.”
She paused, then let out a warm laugh. “A hunter. Wonderful. Haven’t you grown up to be a surprise?”
I stiffened at that, then fixed my gaze on her.
“You wanted me dead as a boy.” I tried to make my voice hard, but it came out humiliatingly unsteady. “You tried to have me killed.”
I realised my mistake the moment I’d said it. The Brid’s green eyes flared before narrowing.
“And who told you that?” she asked softly.
Fuck. Panic kept me speechless for a few moments, before I realised I could answer without putting Nua at risk.
“The Carlin told me,” I said smoothly. “When she chained me up.”
The Brid eyed me for a moment longer before settling back in her seat.
“You believe every word that hag said?” she asked with a careless wave of her hand. “She twists her words, my darling, to suit her needs. I’m sure she tried hard to get you to believe all sorts of untruths.”
I resisted the urge to clench my teeth as I stared at her. Was she trying todenyit? Trying to trick me into believing it wasn’t true?
“Oh,” I managed to get out, my voice tight. “Alright then.”
“Look at you, beautiful boy,” the Brid cooed, leaning forward to clasp my hands. “That lovely golden skin. Your sweet little curls.”
I wasn’t a fucking child. She couldn’t fob me off with honeyed words to make me feel better. I looked away, trying not to flinch when she squeezed my hands.
“You’ll get settled in the palace. But first we have our Beltane festivities to celebrate. The Mild Months are here. You will witness seelie land in its full glory.”