Chapter Twenty-Five #2
“You helped me not get murdered along the way,” she pointed out. “And now the shields are unlocked. I think?”
Her smile faltered. She turned away so he would not see it.
If the spell was broken, then Ethan would be leaving.
He had only ever been honest about that.
The fact she would miss him enough that her chest already ached was her own problem to deal with.
She would not let it tarnish the night’s victory.
She followed Petal and Bramble up the ladder, sternly informing her eyeballs that if they watered, she would toss them in the sea to be eaten by kelpies. No crying. Not here.
The crew were gathered on deck, shards of witch glass glittering under their boots.
There was the definite burn of magic to the air.
When Petal teetered, four sailors and a satyr instantly appeared to help her.
Godric still managed to wink at Briar before he noticed Ethan glowering.
Bramble bared her teeth at them all. Rabbit magic wrapped around her and Petal, swallowing them in a misty blurriness.
“Back off,” Ethan sighed.
His crew dispersed, starry-eyed but cowed.
Petal frowned at her sister. “Um, Briar?”
“Yes?”
“When did you start glowing?”
Briar blinked at her. “What?” Then down at herself. “Oh.”
She was, indeed, glowing.
It was like the moon was touching her. Only her. It gilded her in silver, shining on her hair, her grass-stained dress. The darkness deepened around her. She was salt-white, bone-white. Moon-white.
“That’s probably not a good thing.”
Ethan cursed and sent the clouds scurrying over the moon.
It did not help.
Nor did the rain he called down, or the blanket her sister tossed on top of her head. Even Bramble’s rabbit magic had no effect whatsoever.
The moon had found her.
And so had Aidan Hunt, Lord Coventry.
Ethan’s dragon tried to eat the museum curator without any prompting from Ethan.
Briar was glowing like the moon, bright and beautiful and so vulnerable it made his teeth hurt. He tried to unclench his jaw but it was not happening, not with Briar in danger. Maybe not ever again. The sound of her screams echoed in his skull.
So when Aidan stepped out of the rose-scented shadows of the cliff and said her name, just her name, Ethan exploded. His hands were full of daggers between one breath and the next. There was no thinking, no planning.
Only the soul-deep certainty that anyone coming for Briar would have to go through him first.
And his dragon. His ship, his crew. A herd of kelpies.
Anais had her sword out and Cosette pointed her crossbow at the earl.
Aidan held up his hands, solemn as a scholar.
He did not look as terrified as Ethan would have liked.
He wanted the man to piss himself in fear if he even considered taking a single step closer to Briar.
She, for her part, only peeked around Ethan and looked at Aidan as though she were prepared to offer him tea.
There were still flowers in her tangled hair.
Hard to drink tea without a throat.
Ethan’s dragon roared, lightning slashing at the sky. He had no idea what Aidan’s familiar was but, sparrow or shark, his dragon would feast.
“Swansea,” Aidan said. Ethan realized it was not the first time he had said his name when Briar tried to edge around him, her hand on his arm. The blood faded from his vision and he tucked her back where she was safe. “I’m not going to hurt her.”
“I know,” Ethan said. Icicles of magic shot from his dragon, slamming into the ground between Aidan and the ship. Between Aidan and Briar. They glowed, sharp as swords and full of menace.
“Good evening, Lord Coventry,” Briar called out.
“Don’t talk to him like he’s a friend,” Ethan muttered.
Briar ignored him.
No one ignored him. Especially when he was in an icy rage. There were men he had never met who whispered stories about him like threats. There were no fewer than three bounties on his head.
And the little witch who lived in the pink cottage ignored him.
It made him want to kiss her senseless.
“Lord Coventry,” she said again, Ethan’s arm across her waist when she tried to step too far away from him. He wasn’t having it. His every instinct was seething to toss her over his shoulder and hide her away. “Is your tracking spell causing me to glow?”
“Yes.”
“Get it the hell off her,” Ethan ordered him darkly.
“I can’t.”
“Wrong answer.”
A dagger hit the ground between Aidan’s shoes, digging into the sand. Ethan had another ready before it landed.
“Ethan!” Briar said. “That’s a bit dramatic.”
“Just wait,” he promised.
“You’ll leave my sister alone,” Petal added, “or I’ll eat your spleen.”
She looked perfectly ready, willing, and able to do it. It made Ethan like her a bit more. He wasn’t feeling forgiving about the trouble she had brought to her sister’s doorstep—anything that brought the Dragon to your door was not a good thing—but he did appreciate a good threat.
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” Aidan said. “May I come aboard? I don’t think you want me shouting this for all and sundry to hear, and we haven’t much time.”
The wind tore at the roses, sending petals drifting down like snow. For some reason it made Briar frown. Her magic curled like vines up her arms. “Please, Ethan.”
Ethan nodded once. “Fine. One wrong move and you’ll get an arrow to the throat, Coventry.”
“I am aware.”
He was a calm one—Ethan would give him that. Spending all of his time cooped up with dusty artifacts had not dulled him.
But it would not save him, either.
“Miss Foxglove, I assume you have found the amulet.” His calm, dry gaze settled on Petal briefly. “And the thief.”
Briar scowled at him ferociously even as she held on to the rail to steady herself as the ship rolled. “You’re not taking her.”
“She broke several laws.”
Briar sniffed. “I don’t care.”
Aidan sighed, clearly aware of every weapon currently trained on him, both obvious and camouflaged. “Yes, I gathered as much. That’s not what I wanted to talk about, although I’d like to come back to that, Miss Petal. You should not have been able to do what you did.”
Petal only shrugged.
“Get on with it,” Ethan said. “Reverse your damned spell.”
Aidan winced. “I’m afraid I cannot.”
“Then I don’t see what’s keeping me from murdering you. That might do it.”
Briar pinched the bridge of her nose, before pointing at him and her sister. “Both of you are not helping.” She pointed at Aidan next. Rose vines crawled across the sand behind him, thorns gleaming in the moonlight. “Why can’t you remove the spell?”
“I should be able to,” he admitted. “I made it so it would lead me to any stolen amulet, preferably within a few feet of the museum, and with the thief conveniently asleep.”
“However?”
“However, the magic of the portal interfered when your sister managed to make it through. Rather a lot, I’m sorry to say.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that the shields finally unlocked when you fit the amulet pieces together, but they aren’t fully open. Not yet. And I believe that the moon will continue to track you until everything is as it was.”
“And how do we fix the shields?” Briar asked, sounding exhausted. And exasperated. Ethan didn’t blame her. This should be done with. The bloody moon charm was back in the hands of the museum—or near one of its curators, anyway. That should be good enough. Briar should be out of it now. Safe.
“I’m afraid the amulet must go to Holdfast. The Iron Witches work the shields, as you know, and only they can truly fix them.”
“Take it, then, and begone,” Ethan said.
“I can’t. Only Miss Foxglove can. The magic is too tied up with hers—there’s no undoing it now. There isn’t time to unpick the threads. It would take hours, days. And you burned down the Order’s headquarters. They are not feeling patient.”
“They hit her with a truth spell,” Ethan said.
“It was not pleasant.” Briar rubbed her brow wearily and Ethan saw red all over again.
“I am truly sorry, Miss Foxglove.”
She waved it away, but Ethan swore they would be coming back around to that. Violently. “I don’t want the moon charm. I never did,” Briar said.
“And that’s why it has to be you,” Ethan said between his teeth, catching Aidan’s expression. “Because you don’t want it. And every Keeper and Iron Crow does. Fucking hell.”
“But surely they want off the island like everyone else? And they could get to Holdfast much quicker than me.”
Despite the fierceness in her that no one else seemed to truly recognize, there was also a streak of sweetness that it would be his honor to protect for the rest of his days.
“I can promise you that every Iron Crow on this bloody island would hold that damn thing hostage for power or wealth or both.”
She blinked. “Oh. And you?”
“I have enough problems.” It wasn’t the answer she wanted. It wasn’t even the answer he wished he could give her. But it was the only answer at the moment. Especially while they were being watched by his smirking crew and her feral sister.
He didn’t like to think of the way the Iron Crows would come for her now. It would be so much worse. The power in that amulet, the way it could be used to control the shields—the sheer extortion one could have at one’s fingertips… Hell, it was tempting.
But not at this cost. Never at this cost.
Ethan already did not like the way Briar’s cheeks were pale. Her hip was paining her, that much was obvious. And then that fucking truth spell.
She sighed. “I suppose I must go to Holdfast, then.”
“We are going to fucking Holdfast,” he corrected her.