Chapter 17 #3
“Now that you understand the danger you’re all in, you might as well give me the comb before the others come back for it. They won’t be nearly as accommodating as I.”
A vision filled my head: Thornborn and Thread-Thieves swarming the Neighborhood.
Zach pulled me aside and whispered, “Perhaps we should give him the comb and wash our hands of the matter. What do we care who has the key as long as it’s not on the island?”
“Aye, listen to him, lass,” Riot said with an obnoxious grin. “Very sensible.”
I glared at Riot before turning to address the necromancer. “This faerie is an Unwoven. Do you understand what that means? They’re chaos goblins. They thrive on unpredictability.”
“I could say the same about plenty of Neighbors.”
He wasn’t getting it. “Their magic is dangerous, Zach. The Fates consider them a cosmic virus. The Unwoven want everyone to live in pure chaos.”
“So let him enter the Sídhe and wreak havoc there,” Zach said. “I fail to see the problem. The Unwoven are fae too. As far I’m concerned, they belong in the Sídhe with the rest of them.”
I was disappointed but not surprised. Why would anyone in this world care about a people long forgotten? Once upon a time, I’d shared Zach’s attitude. Even worse, I’d actively worked against them. I couldn’t change the past, but I could make better, more informed decisions now.
I pivoted to Riot. “I’ll take my chances with the comb. My advice to you: leave Evermore now and never return.”
Riot arched a narrow eyebrow. “Or what?”
I walked over and planted myself in front of him, leaning close enough to smell the peppermint scent of his breath.
“You’ve only seen a fraction of my power, goblin,” I said in a low, menacing voice.
“I have no desire to use it, but I will do whatever’s necessary to defend the people on this island.
That is my sworn duty, and I fully intend to uphold it to the best of my abilities.
Believe me when I say, you do not want to take the lid off this boiling pot.
Unlike your stone leg, the damage I will cause is irreversible. ”
The Unwoven blinked. Message received. “Very well. Release me and I’ll go, but don’t blame me when the others come. I promise they’ll be far less entertaining.”
I swept the herbs aside with my foot and released him from the magical binding. The faerie disappeared from the table, leaving behind a bouquet of flowers.
Zach’s gaze flicked to me. “You’re a good actress, Maya. You should consider auditioning for the spring play.”
“Not my thing,” I replied. Better to let him believe it was all an act.
“Do you think he’ll actually leave the island?”
“Yes.” Riot had no intention of waiting around for any more fae to show up. This had been his one chance to claim the key before the others arrived, and he was smart enough to recognize it.
“Where’s the comb now?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“Can you destroy it? ”
“Doubtful.” I was powerful, but even I had my limits.
“Then sail a boat into the Atlantic and dispose of the comb there, if it’s that dangerous.”
The fae would still come, and they could do irreparable damage before they were convinced it was no longer in my possession.
“This is a security issue, Zach. I appreciate your input, but I’ll decide how to handle it. Thanks for your help, though.”
“Don’t let it become a habit.”
“Trust me, that’s the last thing I want.”
On my ride back to the cottage, I ran through the options multiple times. There were no easy answers. The ocean wasn’t a dumping ground, nor was it a safe place for disposal. The glashtyn weren’t the only water-prone associates of the fae.
I couldn’t give it to the Thornborn. They were a radical group committed to reclaiming this world from humans. Giving them anything that connected this realm to the Sídhe struck me as a bad idea.
Once inside the cottage, I retrieved the comb from the kitchen drawer and studied it under my phone’s flashlight.
There was nothing outwardly special about its appearance.
I lit a candle and held the comb over the heat of the flame.
It took a solid thirty seconds, but then I saw it.
A glowing four-leaf clover, another symbol of the fae.
I placed the comb on the counter to cool before carrying it to the warded cache.
I also withdrew a sword I hadn’t touched since my arrival on the island.
The familiar hilt of the kopis melded to my hand like it was part of me.
I sliced the ancient blade through the empty air, startling Jinx as she entered the room .
“Sorry, Jinx. Just need a bit of practice. My sword arm is rusty.”
I’d hoped to keep it rusty for the rest of my life, but desperate times called for desperate measures. The safety of the Neighborhood was my responsibility.
Riot’s harsh words replayed in my head: You don’t fit in their world, lass. You’re too dangerous. Too other. You’re stuck in between, following their rules to prove you’re not a monster.
I sheathed my sword with an aggressive swish. Riot was wrong about me. I wasn’t here to prove anything. All I wanted was a life of my own.
The Unwoven was right about one thing, though: others would come for the key—and soon.
I had to be ready.