Chapter 38
Wolfe
Sun shone through our rock shelter the following morning as Niamh and I sat at the table eating the potatoes and eggs that had appeared on new plates for us, the remnants of the broken dishes magically gone.
We went hunting for wildflowers and left another offering to the hearth godwitch for providing all that she had.
Niamh looked around and sighed as she trailed her fork over the plate. Our clothes had dried overnight, but a selfish part of me had woken up this morning hoping they were still soaking wet, that I’d have an excuse to stay in this hidden shelter with Niamh a little longer.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“I’m not ready to go back,” she said.
“Then let’s stay.”
She gave me a look. “Morton will be back by now and will have told everyone about the attack from the brotherhood. Cillian might very well be assembling the royal guard to search for us.”
I grimaced, knowing she was right. As much as I wanted to stay here with her and forget about everything else, we needed to let everyone know we were safe.
“We’ll leave right after we finish eating,” I assured her, and she gave me a small smile.
“I have to admit, I am excited to get back to the library and my books. Morton temporarily closed it before we left, and I hope no one’s been disappointed. I also hope the library doesn’t lock me out in anger.”
“It won’t,” I told her, reaching over and laying my hand on hers. “The library showed itself to you for a reason. It wouldn’t do that if it was going to just disappear again. You brought something important back to Fairwitch Castle, and it only responded to you.” Much like my cock.
She looked at the place where my key was inked on my chest, frowning. “Why don’t I have my key yet? Morton got his, so the castle clearly wants him to stay.”
“You’ll get it,” I said.
“And if I don’t?” She bit her lip.
“Then we’ll find somewhere else to live.”
“We?” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I would never ask you to leave Fairwitch for me.”
“You’d never have to. Did I not convince you last night? I’d follow you anywhere, Niamh Merridon. Besides, we wouldn’t have to go far, and I could still visit my family anytime I wanted.”
“But what about being a guard?”
I licked my lips, hesitating before saying, “I don’t think I want to be a guard anymore.”
Her mouth formed a perfect O in surprise that instantly made me think of her mouth around my cock.
I cleared my throat. “I think that when Lor died, part of me died as well.” She looked like she was ready to argue, but I held up my hand.
“But that’s okay, because I think other parts of me have awoken instead.
I like strategizing, planning. I always have.
I think I might talk to Cillian about being on his council.
If we stay. If not, well”—I shrugged—“then we’ll find something else. ”
She bit her lip, suddenly looking unsure. “You’re not using me as an excuse to run away from them, are you?” she asked.
“No,” I said, voice fierce. “That’s not it.
I don’t know if I’m ready to go to my mother’s house yet.
” I thought about facing them after all these years of hiding away.
“Being in that home . . .” I trailed off.
“It’s full of so many memories, but after I told you that story about Lor, I realized that not all memories are painful.
That they don’t have to be. I’ve been so worried that if I go back to that house, it’ll break me, but now part of me wonders if it’ll heal me. ”
She smiled. “It might do a little of both? Either way, I’ll be by your side.” She paused. “If I’m not kicked out of Fairwitch.”
“You won’t be,” I told her.
“It’s okay. I don’t want to leave Fairwitch, but if I have to, I’m not terrified anymore. I’m a little scared, but I also feel like I’m up for the challenge. Although I definitely don’t want to run into the Butcher of the Brotherhood.” She shuddered, and I stilled at the mention of him.
“What?”
“Did I not tell you? The Butcher is here in this area. That’s why those brotherhood cronies were trying to get Morton. They wanted to find the Butcher and impress him, move up in the ranks.”
My heart pounded, and my blood turned cold.
“Wolfe? You’ve gone pale.”
I shot to my feet and yanked my shirt over my head. “We have to leave. Now.”
Niamh stood too. “What’s wrong?”
“The Butcher.” I grabbed my cloak, swinging it over my back. “What if he’s here to find Fairwitch? To attack?” The blood drained from Niamh’s face. “And I won’t be there to protect Cillian.” My lungs constricted, making it hard to breathe. “Niamh, I can’t lose another brother. I can’t.”
She rushed forward and squeezed my arm. “You won’t. We’ll leave now. We’re not too far away, so we can get there quickly, and the royal guard are very capable. It’s going to be okay.”
Her words sounded far away, distant, as I imagined Fairwitch being breached, attacked, burned to the ground like Niamh’s home. My family dying without me ever having a chance to tell them I loved them, how sorry I am for keeping them at a distance for so long.
“Wolfe?” My head snapped up. Niamh was already standing in the arched opening, cloak on. “Are you coming?”
She disappeared outside, and I followed, the sun blinding me momentarily. The sun was so bright, the skies so clear, you’d have never known there’d been a raging storm just yesterday, except for the damp earth.
I caught up with Niamh, and we walked in silence toward the cliffside, following its path toward Fairwitch Isle. The slippery rocks shone, glassy and dark, and mud caked our boots, making the journey slower than I would’ve liked.
Crashing waves and the gentle breeze were the only sounds accompanying us, both of us lost in our own thoughts.
A few times, Niamh reached over and took my hand, squeezing it, a reminder that I wasn’t alone, that I’d never be alone again.
Six months ago, that thought would’ve terrified me.
I never would’ve let anyone this close, and before, I would’ve said it was because I was too busy.
Because I needed to focus on saving my brother, but now that I’d admitted my feelings for Niamh, admitted to myself that I wanted her in my life, I knew Morton was right.
I had been scared of losing someone else like I’d lost Lor.
That hadn’t changed, I thought, as I glanced over at Niamh, her cheeks so rosy, her eyes bright, the sun glowing over her red hair.
I might be more terrified now of losing her.
The difference was that I realized it was worth it.
She was worth it. So was my family. Regret was already coursing through me at the lengths I’d gone to push them away since Lor died.
And now Cillian, my whole family, could be at risk, and I’d wasted so much time.
“What are you thinking about?” Niamh asked.
I shook my head. “Just in awe over everything that’s happened in the last day.”
She opened her mouth to respond when yelling rang out ahead of us.
Before Niamh could react, I grabbed her arm and dragged her behind a nearby boulder, motioning for her to stay still and quiet. Her eyes sparked with terror, and I inched up, peeking around the side, scanning the rocky hillside.
Two women wearing the telltale burgundy robes of the brotherhood walked in the distance. “You mean to tell me the Butcher thinks Fairwitch Isle isn’t here? We have every reason to believe it is! He’s lost his mind.”
“Shh,” the other woman said. “He’s going to be here soon.”
I shot Niamh a look, and she swallowed thickly. The Butcher of the Brotherhood. He might not have been the leader, but he was the most notorious member, known for all those he’d killed, maimed, tortured in the name of his twisted cult.
“Are you that scared of the Butcher, Tara?” the woman asked.
Tara scoffed. “Who isn’t? You know his reputation, what he does to those he deems a threat.”
“We’re not a threat,” the other woman said.
“If we’re questioning him, that makes us a threat.”
They fell into silence, and I slid down to sit next to Niamh.
“The Butcher is coming here?” she whispered.
“They don’t know about us.” This would not be the day I fought the Butcher, not when it would put Niamh in danger. “As long as we stay hidden and quiet, we’ll be okay.”
She grabbed my hand, her grip so tight my knuckles turned white.
“Where have you two been?” a male voice barked.
Neither Niamh nor I moved a muscle.
“We’re headed to Fairwitch Isle,” Tara said. “We’ve confirmed their whereabouts.”
My blood ran cold.
“No you haven’t,” the man said, and both women fell silent.
“Those lithaguars could’ve disappeared anywhere.
Just because we’ve sent magical creatures and other relics over some invisible barrier doesn’t mean they went to Fairwitch.
Until one of us steps over that border and can confirm the lost city of Fairwitch exists, it’s foolish to waste our resources on them.
There are other cities and kingdoms with valuable magic.
So I’ll ask again: what are you two doing here? ”
“One of us has stepped over that border,” one of the women said, but a blast of wind muffled her voice, so I couldn’t tell which one.
Niamh stiffened beside me, her face paling.
“What does that mean?” the Butcher’s voice was low, deadly, and I didn’t dare breathe for fear of missing their response.
“We got confirmation that a group of the brotherhood infiltrated Fairwitch not twenty minutes past.”
But that shouldn’t have been possible. Anything with magic could break our barrier as of late, but the brotherhood didn’t have magic.
That had been the one thing keeping us safe—that Fairwitch wouldn’t let them enter without an invitation.
So either they had figured out a loophole or the magic of Fairwitch was weakening further . . . or someone had invited them in.
“No,” I heard Niamh say under her breath.
My stomach formed into a tight knot. They could be burning Fairwitch to the ground at this very moment, torturing Cillian, the rest of my family. I bunched my fist so tight my nails dug into my palms.
“That’s news to me,” the Butcher said, sounding irritated that he hadn’t already known this information. Arrogant bastard. “Then it sounds like I need to inform the commander.”
“Yes, sir,” both women said at once. “We’re just here to keep watch and wait for a signal.”
“What signal?” the Butcher snapped.
“Uh, fire,” one of the women stammered. “A fire spark, shot into the sky. That will let us know Fairwitch has fallen to the brotherhood.”
“Right.” The Butcher’s voice was tight. “Well, then, I’ll leave you to it. Keep me updated.”
Before I could help myself, I shot to my feet. Niamh gasped, then clapping a hand over her mouth. I peeked over the rock, and the Butcher stiffened, his back to me.
“Did you hear that?” he asked the two women over his shoulder.
“Hear what?” Tara asked, shoulders bunching under her cloak.
He shook his head, and I thought I heard him mutter “useless” under his breath, but I couldn’t be sure.
“Wolfe,” Niamh mouthed when I looked down at her.
She gestured for me to duck, but I couldn’t.
I had to see. I just needed to see the man who’d taken my brother’s body.
I wouldn’t be able to see his full face, not with those white masks they wore, but this would be enough for now.
Enough to satiate my hunger for revenge.
He huffed as the women pounded their fists against their hearts. My breath caught in my throat as he turned for the briefest of seconds and repeated the gesture before spinning on his heel and marching away.
I froze, the image of him imprinted into my brain as he walked away, growing smaller and smaller.
So many questions rapid-fired through my brain, but the main one I kept coming back to was how?
What I’d just seen wasn’t possible. I had to have imagined it, been mistaken, but somewhere, deep inside, I knew I hadn’t.
I kept watching the hulking, achingly familiar figure until he was nothing but a dot on a distant hill, that image of him still burning bright, making bile rise in my throat.
My legs felt weak, and I sank down next to Niamh as the women muttered under their breaths and stomped away, their footsteps echoing into the distance.
I stared forward at the sea, feeling numb, mind not willing to believe what I’d just witnessed.
“Wolfe.” Niamh laid a hand on my arm, and I jumped. “I think they’re gone. We can leave now, get to Fairwitch, and help fight against the brotherhood.”
Her words were distant, and my brain had a hard time catching on to them as they rolled past me.
“Wolfe, what’s wrong?”
She gave me a gentle shake, concern lacing her features, and I met her gaze.
“We have to go,” she said, tugging my arm. But I couldn’t get myself to move. “What is going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I have.” I took a deep breath, not sure I could get the next words out. “My brother.” I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. “Niamh, the Butcher of the Brotherhood is Lor.”