CHAPTER7
“Why are you doing this?”
Aodhan glanced over his shoulder at the human woman. She was perched on a fallen log, legs drawn up, frying pan across her knees as she watched him ferret around in the undergrowth.
For the time being, they’d retreated back into unseelie territory. When it came to the high sidhe, Aodhan would far rather take his chances with a roving bunch of bored vampiric psychopaths than a seelie patrol.
“If we’re going to find your son, I’m going to need to come up with some kind of divination spell to determine his location.” He found a likely looking pinecone, contemplated it for a second, then added it to his growing pile of potential ritual components. “I’m good, but even I don’t have every ritual I’ve ever seen stored in my head. We need to get back to my library. And since I’m sensible enough to live at a healthy distance from both seelie and unseelie territory, that means using magic to get there.”
“No, I mean, why are you helping me at all?”
Aodhan been so busy trying to figure out how to deflect the obvious question—why don’t I just ride you?—that for a moment he just blinked at her, wrong-footed. “Exactly how big an asshole do you think I am, human?”
“There’s a big difference between ‘not an asshole’ and throwing yourself into danger for the sake of a perfect stranger.” The woman scrunched up her face, nose wrinkling. “Look, I don’t mean to insult you, but I had the impression most fae didn’t do favors for free. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Getting my son back is worth any price. I’d just prefer to know up front what this is going to cost me.”
“Fair enough.” He measured a stick against his forearm, swore, and tossed it away. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to turn around and demand a portion of your liver or your first-born grandchild. As far as I’m concerned, getting you out of this realm is reward enough.”
The woman’s brows drew together. “You don’t like humans?”
“It’s not personal. I don’t like anyone.”
The woman eyed him, not looking entirely convinced. “Yet you still dropped everything and rushed here when Cuan told you I was in trouble.”
That was far too close to matters Aodhan did not want to discuss. It was clear the human didn’t have the slightest idea that he was her destined steed. He would have bet an entire shelf of grimoires that she didn’t even know what a soul-bonded steed was, or why most fae warriors would kill to possess one.
Which was good. The less she knew, the better. With any luck, he could reunite her with her child and hustle them both through a portal before she started asking awkward questions. Once she was back in her own world, with an infinity of distance between them, he’d be able to perform the ritual to sever the bond for good.
In the meantime, he couldn’t risk the woman figuring out the truth. He cast around for some excuse that wasn’t an outright falsehood. Unlike many types of fae, he was capable of lying, but he didn’t like doing it. When you worked with magic, it was a very bad idea to get into the habit of saying things you didn’t actually mean.
“I can’t stand back and ignore a child who needs my help,” he said, which was true enough. “Especially not in these circumstances. I grew up under seelie rule myself. I wouldn’t trust them to raise potatoes, let alone a youngster.”
The women’s eyes rounded. Aodhan abruptly did feel like the realm’s biggest ass.
Good job, Aodhan. Tell the worried mother that her son is in immediate peril. That will definitely help.
“Not that they’ll harm him,” he said hastily, before the woman could bolt straight back into seelie lands in a desperate, doomed rescue attempt. “Not physically, at least. It’s just… look, is your son a compliant, obedient sort of child? Eager to please, does what he’s told, conforms to expectations?”
From the look the woman gave him, Aodhan may as well have asked if her son was a small octopus. “Kevin?”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“He used to smuggle books in his underwear because daycare wouldn’t let him finish reading them at home.” The woman let out a brief, rather manic laugh, her voice cracking. “That was when he was three. These days, his rule-breaking is considerably more sophisticated. I’m pretty sure his school has my number on speed-dial.”
“Sounds like a delightful child. But not, I suspect, one who will fit in with the seelie. They value total perfection. Every tree must be trained into the most aesthetically pleasing shape. Every flower must bloom without flaw. There’s no room for uniqueness, no tolerance for rebellion. They will bend and twist and shape you, relentlessly, until you are exactly what they think you should be. Nothing more, nothing less.”
The woman’s gaze lingered on him, unnervingly penetrating. “Is that why you left?”
“Let’s just say that the seelie have strong opinions on whether horses belong in libraries.” Aodhan finally found a straight, smooth stick long enough to suit his purposes. He straightened, brushing dirt from his knees. “Right, might as well give this a go. Come here, human.”
The woman slid off the log, obediently going over to the position he’d indicated. “I do have a name, you know.”
“I’m sure you do.”
Aodhan had been trying to figure out how in hell to ask what she was called without giving away that Cuan hadn’t sent him after all. He was on the verge of pretending he needed to write her name down for the ritual, and asking her to spell it out for him.
Which is going to make me look like an illiterate idiot if it turns out to be something obvious, like Caoimhe or Dearbhla.
The corner of the woman’s mouth hooked up. “You’ve forgotten my name, haven’t you?”