14 NOT TONIGHT
“WAKE UP, AILSA … we need to stay sharp.”
Ailsa jerked into consciousness. Momentarily disoriented, she blinked furiously to clear her foggy mind. Curse it. Despite her excitement that they were closing in on their quarry, exhaustion had claimed her. She’d fallen asleep against Dale’s back.
Everything had finally caught up with her. She was bone tired. All she wanted to do was crawl into a pile of soft furs and sleep for a moon. She couldn’t though.
Not when they were this close to Kayla.
Those men were taking her mentor into The Uplands, and Kayla was fighting them every inch of the way.
Wiping saliva off her chin, and relieved he hadn’t seen her drooling, she then rubbed at her gritty eyes. She didn’t know how long they’d been riding, or how far, but Dale was right; she needed to pull herself together. “Where are we?” she asked, her voice croaky.
“The village of Rhu,” Dale replied, throwing a leg over Rùn’s withers and sliding to the ground. He’d pulled his horse up in front of a long, low-slung building. Windowless and thatched, it had the look of an ale-hall. “And I’d wager our friends have already arrived.”
Ailsa tensed, the last of her drowsiness vanishing. “Aye?”
She dropped to the ground, wincing as her feet slammed into the hard dirt. The sun was low now, playing hide-and-seek with the clouds that raced across the sky. A cold, gusting wind had gotten up. The Sweeper.
“Aye.” Dale’s voice held a tight edge. “It’s Gateway … and they won’t make the next village before dark.”
Ailsa nodded. That made sense. Only a fool would travel after nightfall tonight. Every Gateway, she and Kayla locked themselves inside their roundhouse and built the fire up in the hearth before sprinkling salt around it and the doorways.
Glancing over at the ale-hall’s oaken door, she pulled up her hood. “We’ll need to watch ourselves then,” she murmured. “Since they know they’re being followed.”
“We will,” he agreed. “Come on, let’s stable Rùn … their horses should already be there.”
“And after that?”
“I find out where Kayla is.”
“I want to help.”
Dale shook his head. “They’ve seen your face, so you stay out of the ale-hall. I’ll get us a room, and you’ll hide there while I pick them off.”
Ailsa cut him a sharp look. “Pick them off?”
“Aye. There are six of them … five now … and one of me … I’d rather not fight them all at once.”
She pulled a face, taking his point. He’d been adamant that their assailant the night before was one of Kayla’s captors. As she followed him under the stone arch behind the ale-hall, she wondered if he was right. The stables beyond faced the lodgings. Wind whipped straw across the yard.
However, when she saw there was only a tired-looking plow pony stabled, Ailsa’s belly dropped. Reaching out, she gripped hold of Dale’s arm, her fingernails digging into his bare skin. “They’re not here.”
Growling a curse, he swept his gaze over the yard. “They must have found lodgings somewhere else in the village.” Extricating himself from her grip, he tossed her the reins. “See to Rùn; I’m going hunting.”
Ailsa rounded on him. “Not without me, you aren’t.”
He cut her a hard look. “No. It’s better if I go alone. Rub Rùn down and keep an eye out for trouble … and if they turn up, hide.”
With that, he walked off.
Ailsa watched him disappear under the arch, anger pulsing in her chest.
It wasn’t the same sensation that had swept her up the day before though, when the thief had tried to grab her purse. Strangely, although Dale vexed her at every turn, her reaction toward him felt … normal. And justified.
Even so, the man’s manner chafed. Lips compressed, she led Rùn into a stall. After a bit of fumbling, for she didn’t know what she was doing, she managed to remove the saddle and bridle. The stallion was remarkably patient with her.
By the time Dale reappeared, she’d just finished rubbing Rùn down with a twist of straw.
One look at the mercenary’s deep scowl, and she froze.
“They’re not in Rhu.”
“What?” Throwing aside the straw, she ducked under the stallion’s neck and stalked up to her bodyguard. “You said they’d be here.”
“I was sure they would be.”
Ailsa stopped in front of him and placed her hands on her hips. “But it’s Gateway!”
“Aye.” His face twisted. “Seems they’d rather deal with the Slew and Gods-know what else than lose time.”
“This is all we need.”
To her surprise, Dale kicked at a wooden pail next to him. “Fuck!”
It tumbled across the dirt and smacked into the stable wall.
Startled, Rùn snorted and tossed his head.
However, her bodyguard’s show of temper didn’t bother Ailsa. She just stared him down. “If they’re not stopping, we can’t either. We’re too close to let them slip through our fingers.”
“We aren’t following them,” he shot back. “Not tonight.”
She moved closer still, deliberately crowding him. Her chin rose so she could hold his gaze. Heat pulsed through her now—maybe he could rouse her ire properly, after all—and she ignored the warning glint in his eye. “We ride.”
“No,” he said flatly.
Her pulse started to hammer in her ears. “But—”
“You want to be outdoors when the Slew arrive?” His voice turned harsh now. “Or hiding in the woods when faerie creatures begin their hunt?”
Cold rushed through Ailsa’s chest, dousing her anger. “But Kayla’s out there … in danger!”
Dale glared back at her, immovable. “Aye, but you’ll be no good to her dead.”
An ominous red sunset painted the sky as they set off to find supplies for the next day’s journey.
Rhu was a small hamlet, perched upon a bluff that poked out onto Loch Lethe. They went door-to-door, haggling with women for a loaf of bread, skins of ale, chunks of cheese, and apples.
They didn’t converse as they shopped. Dale’s mood was black while Ailsa couldn’t stop thinking about the danger Kayla was now in. She imagined her outside tonight. No sheltering walls. No hearth. The worry lodged sharp and cold beneath her ribs. We were so close.
Gods. She just wanted all of this to be over.
She wanted Kayla back, to return to Braewall and pick up their life, to forget all of this.
But somewhere, deep inside, she was beginning to realize that there was no going back. Some things even rescuing Kayla couldn’t put right. What if those frightening changes in her didn’t go away? What if they worsened?
The thought made her feel sick.
The Sweeper had churned up the loch’s surface, and the wind pushed at Ailsa and Dale as they returned to the ale-hall, stinging their cheeks and making their eyes water. Dead leaves swirled across the dirt path.
They passed shuttered roundhouses where folk nailed boards over windows to protect their homes once night fell. Outside several doors, offerings of bread and cakes had already been laid out for the faerie creatures.
The people of Rhu were preparing to hunker down for the evening.
It was time to get indoors.
Within the ale-hall, smoke hung low beneath the rafters.
And despite that her mind was elsewhere, Ailsa looked around her with interest. She hadn’t visited a lot of ale-halls over the years.
Farnoch had been an education, yet she noticed this one was the simplest she’d seen.
Just a rectangular windowless room with two long benches furnishing it, a hearth in one corner, and a counter in the other with a narrow door leading through to the kitchen.
Dale approached the counter where the proprietor was pouring ale from a barrel into a large clay jug. “Evening,” he greeted the man tersely.
The man nodded in return. “Cutting it fine, aren’t you?” he grunted. “Gateway’s breathing down our necks now.”
Dale shrugged, as if he hadn’t given it much thought. “My wife and I will take a room for the night … and a meal.”
Ailsa bristled. Wife? They hadn’t decided that was the story they’d tell. He had a nerve.
“We’ve also got a horse stabled out back,” Dale added.
“That’ll be four coppers then.” The ale-hall keeper replied.
Ailsa was about to dig into her coin purse when Dale reached out, his hand closing over her wrist. She jolted at the contact. “I’ll get this, wife.”
His thumb pressed warm against her pulse. Her breath hitched before she could stop it—and his eyes flicked up, as if he’d felt it.
Cutting him a glare, she let him extract the coins and pay the ale-hall keeper.
“Take a seat, and I’ll bring your meal and some ale,” the man said as he tucked the coin into the purse at his belt.
Dale guided Ailsa toward a long table, hand at her back. His palm scorched through her layers of clothing like a brand. Something low in her belly fluttered in response.
She stiffened.
How dare her body betray her?
Her cheeks started to warm then.
How was a wife supposed to behave? She didn’t want to smile and simper. She’d rather jab out her eyes with an eating knife.
Two men playing Liar and lingering over their drinks looked up from their game as she and Dale sat, curiosity sparking in their eyes.
The proprietor moved off to greet his other customers.
When he was out of earshot, Ailsa leaned in. “Since when are we handfasted?”
“It’s just easier,” he replied. “People trust a married pair more than a lone woman traveling with a blade for hire.”
Ailsa pursed her lips. She hated that he had a point.
“It’s also safer,” he added. “For you.”
Her lip curled. “So, you’re worried about my safety now, are you?”
If he thought she’d forgive and forget last night, he was mistaken.
His jaw flexed, even as his eyes narrowed. “I didn’t mean to abandon you last night,” he said roughly. “Things … got out of hand.”
She frowned. Out of hand? “What does that mean?”
“You were right … creatures were prowling around our camp last night.” He glanced away then. The man looked exhausted; his eyes were bloodshot, his skin pale. “I spent the night trying to keep them away from you.”
Ailsa stilled.
She’d spent half the morning convincing herself he’d run off and left her to die. Now she didn’t know whether to believe him. In truth, she was still pissed off at him for not continuing their journey today. Gods knew how far ahead Kayla was now.
“Your ales.”