Chapter 28
“Are you really sure about this?” Tamsin asked, worry clear in her voice.
Cuan didn’t pause in fastening his armor. “It is the only way.”
He pulled the last buckle tight, then flexed his wrists, testing his range of movement. He would need all the speed and skill he could muster.
He had fought blindfolded, once, so that a cockatrice’s gaze could not turn him to stone. He had braved manticores in their lairs, and battled trolls in the high peaks. He had even crossed into seelie territory, alone and unsupported, and lived to tell the tale.
But this…this will be the most dangerous place I have ever ventured.
“I will not be in the human realm for long,” he said to Tamsin, trying to reassure himself as much as her. “My nose is keen. Assuming that your hamlet is not inexplicably overrun with hellhounds, I will be able to track down your friend Betty swiftly.”
Tamsin let out a brief, hollow laugh, scrubbing her hands over her face. “What does it say about my life that I can’t promise that my neighbors aren’t all hellhounds?”
“More likely to be dragons,” Motley said brightly. “Lots of dragons in the human world.”
“Thank you for that helpful reminder.” Cuan finished adjusting his gear. “I will endeavor to avoid them.”
“And regular humans,” Tamsin said, casting his armor a dubious look. “Are you sure your glamour is going to work over there? You, uh, kind of stand out.”
“I am certain. Passing unnoticed among your kind is our oldest magic, as instinctive as breathing. No one will see my true form unless I will it so.”
Or am knocked unconscious. Or killed.
Neither of those was a helpful thought. He set them aside, firmly.
“Here.” Aodhan handed him back his callstone. “I’ve fortified the enchantment, so it will allow you to send a message to me between the realms. It’ll only let you contact me, mind, and it’s one use only. And the spell won’t last for longer than a day or two.”
“If I am in the human realm that long, things have gone very ill indeed.” He pocketed the small, polished obsidian pebble. “Motley, Aodhan will tell you when to reopen the door. You must stay here with him, do you understand?”
The raven shifter nodded, one hand resting on the door handle. “Will be waiting, holding the door. Ready as soon as you call. Move fast, though. Can’t open it for long. Too many doors, recently. Too many eyes on the sidhean now. Teeth in the cracks. Big teeth.”
“Then make sure to shut this door behind me as soon as I cross over,” Cuan told him. “And I will be poised to leap through the instant you open the way back.”
“Cuan.” Tamsin caught his arm as he turned toward the door. “We could still just run. Together.”
Cuan cupped her face in his hand, wishing that he wasn’t wearing his gauntlets. He would have liked to feel her bare skin, one last time.
No. I cannot think that way. This is not the last time. I will be successful. I will return.
…I hope.
“If all else fails, you must indeed flee before Morcant can take you,” he said. “But simply running away blindly, without a destination, is too risky to be anything but a last resort. Your hellhound friend intended for you to take shelter amongst the seelie. Even though whoever was sent to rescue you seems to have failed.”
If they had even made the attempt. Cuan had serious doubts about that one.
“I will find the hellhound,” he continued. “Once she has told me where this safe haven lies, I will return, and take you there.”
Tamsin’s teeth worried at her bottom lip. “And you’ll come too. We’ll both claim asylum with the seelie.”
He couldn’t lie. He kissed her instead, long and lingering, until she melted against him.
“I will return,” he murmured against her lips. “I vow, I will return. An unseelie does not break a vow.”
It was hard, but he made himself step back. He nodded to Motley, who stood poised by the door.
The raven shifter was even paler than usual, but his chin jerked in an answering nod. He started to turn the handle.