Motley’s smile faltered. From experience, Cuan knew that it was nothing to do with the request itself. Something in his fractured mind had shifted, leaving him lost and uncertain.
He laid a hand on Tamsin’s shoulder, drawing her away a little before she could further unbalance the unstable raven shifter. He lowered his voice. “Do you have something you could give him?”
Tamsin’s brow creased. “You mean he needs payment?”
“Not precisely. He needs a token to remember you by. It need not be something of value.” He touched one of the small pearly buttons that clasped her blouse. “This would be ideal. May I?”
What in the name of the Shining Ones?was written all over Tamsin’s face, but she nodded.
Cuan summoned a sword, carefully slicing the button free without tearing the fabric. Tamsin’s blouse gaped a little wider. Tearing his attention away from that riveting slice of soft, enticing skin, Cuan turned back to Motley.
“You know Tamsin.” Cuan handed the raven shifter the small button. “Remember?”
Motley stared down at the button for a moment, then blinked. Focus returned to his black eyes.
“Tamsin. Yes.” Motley curled his fingers over the button. “Clever. Brave. Your treasure. Help you keep her safe.”
“That’s right. And you keep that safe. With the rest of your memories.” Cuan looked back at Tamsin. “You can ask him again now.”
Tamsin cast him a look that stated that they would be discussing this at length later. However, for now she asked no further questions, instead turning a warm smile on the raven shifter.
“Motley, Cuan got hurt in the duel.” She gestured at his injured hands. “He needs to see Aodhan again. Can you take us to him?”
Motley tilted his head, frowning. “I thought Aodhan was already here.”
“That was yesterday,” Tamsin said, who’d clearly picked up on the trick of steering Motley through a conversation. Cuan liked the way she spoke to the raven shifter; neither impatient nor pitying, just straightforward and kind. “You brought Aodhan here, to heal Cuan. But now we need to go to him. Can you make a portal, please?”
“Oh, that’s easy.” Motley perked up. “Look, I’ll show you.”
The raven shifter swung back the door, revealing a narrow path winding between slender silver tree trunks. With a delighted bark, Angus dashed between Motley’s legs, bounding through the portal.
“Angus!” Tamsin plunged after her pet. “Come back!”
Cuan followed her, gesturing Motley to come through as well. From this side, the portal lay in a natural arch formed by two intertwined young trees. He’d never quite worked out all the rules governing Motley’s talent, but he’d observed that the raven always seemed to need some kind of nominal doorway to be able to make a portal.
“Best shut it again,” he murmured to Motley. “Let us not leave an open path for any curious sidhean guard to follow.”
“Motley, open the door. Motley, shut the door.” The lesser fae heaved a put-upon sigh as he reached back through the portal. It winked shut with a twinkle of light, replaced by an ordinary view of sunset-lit woodland. “Why can nobody ever manage a door for themselves? It’s not hard.”
“Only for you, my friend.” Cuan stretched his legs, hastening after Tamsin. “Come, and stay close. These woods are not safe.”
Motley shimmered into raven form, swooping between the tree trunks like a wind-blown ghost. Cuan kept one hand poised to summon a sword, all his senses on high alert. The forest seemed peaceful enough, but they were a long way from the protection of Maeve’s court. Aodhan’s territory lay between the borders of the unseelie and seelie lands, unclaimed by any sidhean. The reclusive alicorn had always refused to bow his head to anyone—though many high sidhe from both sides had tried.
“Angus!” Tamsin shouted from up ahead. “Angus! NO!”
The sudden fear in her voice yanked him into a sprint. Without conscious thought, he shifted into his horse form, flying over the ground at top speed. Dodging past Tamsin, he burst out of the woodland into a wide clearing.
Cuan had only the barest fraction of a second to take in the scene, but it was enough. He hurled himself at the charging Angus, shifting as he went so he intercepted the tiny yapping creature as a man rather than as a horse. He hit the ground hard—the impact sending fresh pain through his body—and rolled, his arms clamped around the furious fuzzball.
He was only just in time. A gleaming golden horn stabbed past him, close enough that he felt the sharp point score a deep gouge in the shoulder-plate of his armor.
Angus, of course, repaid Cuan for saving his life by sinking sharp teeth into his wrist.
“No! No!” Motley swooped around Aodhan’s head, cawing in panic, as the alicorn reared up for another attack. “Friend! Friend!”
To Cuan’s great relief, the alicorn backed off, dropping down to four hooves. He leveled his horn at Angus. “What in the name of the Shining Ones is that?”
“A dog.” Cuan winced as Angus bit down harder. “Allegedly.”