Chapter 11
As Cuan disappeared into Aodhan’s oak, some part of Tamsin wanted to run after him. To call him back and explain everything…
She pushed down the impulse. She’d seen the look on his face when she’d revealed that there was a way to break the tithe curse. Dismay, yes, and anguish…but there had been something more, too.
Just for an instant, there’d been a flash of gold in his eyes; raw and fierce and primal. Something that spoke to her on a deep animal level, without words, saying: Mine.
Cuan had covered it quickly, but it was obvious that until that moment, he hadn’t actually thought there was a way for her to return home. Hadn’t truly believed that helping her would mean losing her. Now he did…and for all his fine words, she couldn’t forget that instant, knee-jerk flare of possessiveness.
Tamsin sighed. “Can I ask you something, Motley? As Cuan’s friend?”
Motley cocked his head. “Not many people ask me things. Not more than once, anyway.”
She decided that boiled down to a ‘yes.’ “Do you think Cuan really will let me go?”
“No,” Motley said instantly, with force. “No, no, no. You’re his treasure. Can’t let you go. Can’t. Never, ever, ever.”
Tamsin blew out her breath. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Motley’s pale eyebrows drew down. He peered at her for a moment. Then he sank to a morose huddle on the ground, shoulders hunched like folded wings.
“Wrong,” he muttered, sounding like he was talking to himself. “Wrong, wrong, again. Trying to keep things together, but can’t. Never can. Just want to help.”
Tamsin released Angus, who trotted over to the nearest tree root and lifted a leg. She sat down on the grass next to Motley.
“You do help,” she said. “You helped me, when you didn’t have any reason to. You’re a good person, Motley. I trust you.”
“Shouldn’t,” Motley said wretchedly. He splayed out his long fingers like an explosion around his head. “Wrong, wrong. Lost. Broken.”
“You aren’t broken. You just have a hard time remembering things, right?”
Motley’s hands wandered across the grass, combing through the soft green blades as though searching for something. “Nobody should lose their treasure.”
Tamsin wasn’t sure if he meant this as a response, or if he’d jumped back to some earlier part of the conversation. Before she could ask, he lifted his head, fixing her with those unnerving midnight eyes.
“Can trust Cuan,” he said, his tone firming. “But he’s lost too. Can’t go home without your help.”
Tamsin frowned. “You mean, I need his help to go home.”
“Yes.” Motley’s haunted face broke into a brilliant, sweet smile. “That too.”
“Well, I need your help at the moment.” Tamsin hesitated, eying him. “And I need you to promise not to tell Cuan about it.”
Motley’s smile stretched into a wicked grin. Despite the gaunt lines etched around his ageless eyes, he looked like a gleeful schoolboy about to play some prank.
“All crow-kind love a trick,” he said. “What are we stealing?”
“No trick. And we aren’t stealing anything. This is important, Motley.” She laid a hand on his, holding his gaze. “You said yourself that Cuan can’t let me go. I do trust that he cares about me, and wants to keep me safe, but…I don’t want to put him in a position where his head has to fight his heart. That’s why I need you to keep this secret.”
Motley looked faintly disappointed, but he laid a finger against his lips, nodding. “Understand. Cuan is always fighting, inside. Needs to stop, if he’s to win. Mustn’t split him apart any worse. Won’t tell. Promise.”
“I need to get a message to someone back in my world.” She tightened her grip as he opened his mouth, forestalling him. “I know you promised Cuan that you wouldn’t go there again yourself. And I don’t want you to take any risks. But do you think it would be safe to open a tiny portal for a second or two? Just long enough to shove a note through?”
Motley turned his head one way, then the other, looking at her from each eye in turn as though he was in raven form.
“Could do,” he said after a thoughtful pause. “Possible. Yes. Who?”
“One of my friends.” Tamsin took a deep breath, hoping that she wasn’t making a huge mistake. “I think she’s a member of the Wild Hunt.”