Chapter 39 Neirin
NEIRIN
When the inn was busy, it was easier to distract myself, to keep my thoughts from wandering.
Late morning often left the bar with a lack of patrons, the remains of breakfast cleaned up, and some time still left until lunch.
In addition to the time of day, the rooms were only at half occupancy—the influx of travelers coming from the festival had dissipated, and that, too, contributed to the quiet.
To busy myself, I’d left the bar to wash the morning’s dishes in the kitchen. The scents of new grass and early flower buds carried on the breeze through the open window, and the clucking of the hens in the garden lent a peacefulness to the day. Still, I could not shake the troubles of my mind.
There was a helplessness to the situation I found myself in, one that plagued me deeply. My thoughts looped, each time further frustrating me as I came to the same conclusions again and again.
Each day I spent in Elrune was a day Harlan was left vulnerable, unaware of the threat within the castle walls. The need to do something consumed me, a constant itch that would not dissipate. Yet even as my heart urged me to action, my training told me to practice patience, to use reasoning.
Without Harlan’s blessing, I would not get past the guards at the bridge crossing, and there was no other way to reach the castle.
Dead, I was useless to him. There was the chance that Harlan may have issued the order for my capture, not my execution, as Cyan had stated.
If so, perhaps I could speak with him. But it was too much of a gamble.
The sensible option was to wait for the huntsman, Nox.
Thoughts having again come full circle, I lowered my gaze to the shiny metal tankard I held and gave it a final wipe with a rough rag before adding it to the stack of drying dishes beside the wash basin.
My reflection glinted off the metallic surface, and I released a weighty breath.
Astraea’s words returned to me. “If you ever forget what you are, ever question that you are a monster, let your reflection stand as a reminder.”
Anger prickled at my skin. I shut my eyes and clenched my fist, resisting the urge to lash out, to push the dishes to the floor just to hear the glass shatter, the metal hum.
The heavy front doors of the inn opened with a groan. In the next heartbeat, I detected Evera through the bond, her emotions a slick unease. Although her unsettled state was troublesome, knowing that she was near and had come to see me, steadied me.
I left my task and pushed through the split doors. She stood with Calix and, to my displeasure, the cobbler. Was he the reason for her unease?
Passing the unlit hearth, I drew my mate into my arms, disregarding Ruairc.
Evera relaxed in my embrace, and one of her hands came to the back of my neck, her fingers brushing through my hair.
I drew back and beheld her; the light from the open door illuminated the side of her face, paled her skin, and added to the contrast of her countless dappling freckles.
“What troubles you, love?” I asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“There are huntsmen in town,” Evera said, the warmth in her eyes fogging over.
For a moment, adrenaline coursed through my veins. Could Nox be among them? No, he didn’t dress like a huntsman. Evera would have no reason to pick him out of a crowd. The men she spoke of were more likely after a bounty on my head.
“They have one of the messengers with them,” she added.
That explained Calix clinging to Evera’s spare hand in a manner very unlike the boy.
Did he, too, draw comfort from Evera’s presence?
Surely not as I did—not on base instinct, not with the rawness of the magic of our bond—but perhaps on a different level.
Children such as Calix were nearly always abandoned by their families when signs of their affliction became apparent.
Cruel as it may seem, the only other choice was risking the rest of one’s family.
The reasons were unimportant, but I could understand his baser need for comfort from a woman when he had no mother.
Every boy needed a mother; one to whom emotions could be laid bare…
They were a place of safety when every other set of eyes on us expected stoic rigidness, fearlessness.
Expected us to be a shield of defense, a stone of unwavering strength.
“Who do they have?” I asked Calix.
“Eaumond,” he said, his voice broken.
Sighing, I dropped to one knee and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
His indigo eyes held me, their orbs the color of the sea.
There was a sadness to them, but they did not flicker at least. Again, I found myself struck by his restraint, his control over his magic, even when emotions weighed on him.
“Find your strength,” I told him, keeping my voice level. If it was a mother’s job to comfort, it was a father’s job to instill courage when it was needed.
Calix nodded and sniffled once before raising his chin, a new resolve to his expression.
When had I become fond of the child? When had I begun to care for him? Standing, I pondered this even as a flutter of pride rushed through me at his bravery.
“I want to help, however I can,” Ruairc said.
I’d nearly forgotten about the cobbler. The corners of my lips turned down as I addressed him, wrapping one arm at Evera’s waist as the other held Calix’s shoulder. The responding flex of Ruairc’s jaw and the deflection of his gaze spoke of his submission.
“Neir.” Evera’s voice was coaxing, comforting, a warming reminder of who she was to me, of the unique connection we shared that allowed her to detect my emotions. “I trust him.”
I offered a gruff sound of consideration, then nodded to Calix for him to take a seat at the central hearth before leaving the group to walk across the room to the bar.
A knot was forming in my throat at the concept of Ruairc becoming privy to such fragile knowledge, and I needed a moment to consider.
Why Evera wanted to draw him in, why she seemed more receptive to him than she had in the past, I could not guess. Those were questions for later, though.
At the bar, I poured three cups of whiskey, then took a considerate swallow from one of them. The split doors behind me swung, and Maerel came to stand beside me. The kitchen door creaked as her most recent dalliance slipped out.
“How do you plan to repay me for those drinks?”
“By preparing the morning meal, serving it, tending tables, and managing guests checking out while allowing you to stay abed with a recently arrived traveler all morning?” I offered.
She huffed, something between irritation and amusement, and retrieved her satchel from beneath the counter. “He was a disappointment, in truth.”
“Maerel,” I said, “it is nearly midday.”
Shrugging, she returned to the kitchen. I took the three drinks to the hearth and offered glasses to Evera and Ruairc. Studying Calix, the heels of his boots kicking the stone of the hearth as he sat at its edge, I took a sizable drink from my own glass and offered the half-filled cup to him.
The boy’s eyes widened, and a faint tug of a smile pulled at his lips as he took the glass from me. Suppressing my amusement at his reaction, I ruffled the black curls atop his head and leaned back against a table, facing Evera and Ruairc.
“What does he know?” I asked Evera, raising my chin to the cobbler.
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
Maerel, now cloaked and with her satchel hung over her shoulder, rejoined us in the main room and set me with a frown. “Must you do your conspiring here?”
“No one visits an inn this time of day,” I pointed out.
She rolled her eyes, and at the hearth, Evera suppressed a giggle. There was, in truth, some similarity in the two women. Both in their candor and in their refusal to adhere to convention. Perhaps that was why I got along with the innkeeper.
When Maerel left, I bolted the doors behind her for the sake of caution and turned back to the group. “Evera says I can trust you.”
Ruairc nodded.
“What is your stake here. Why do you care?”
“I care for Evera. I want to ensure she is safe.”
Narrowing my eyes, I measured his words. There was a slight condescension behind them, as if I were incapable of assuring her safety, or perhaps it was only that he disapproved of my bringing her into this position to begin with. Fair enough. I let it go.
Holding up my arm, I revealed the marks of our bond. “What do you know of the old magic?”
The cobbler frowned. Evera stepped in, covering the basics of what I was and who we were to each other. When she exposed Calix for what he was, the boy flinched visibly and turned up the end of his drink.
“Magic binds us,” Evera said, “but what you said before the market stands true. Magic alone could not speak for my heart.”
I wrapped an arm over Evera’s shoulder and curled her into me, smiling as I spoke against her hair. “Your heart speaks to mine?”
Elbowing me playfully, she huffed. I laughed in turn, grateful for the lightness she gave me even when the stakes were high.
“I suspect that the Queen sent Eaumond with the guards. It is a great error in judgment on her part.”
Evera pouted. “How so?”
“Though Queen Astraea’s restraint far surpasses that of the children, she still is one of them.
It has been nearly a fortnight since she …
Since the festival. Without my blood, her reasoning will begin to waver, and she will act more brashly.
This is a sign that she is becoming desperate.
Sending the boy with a pair of huntsmen means both that she has exposed the child’s abilities to detect me on a baser level, and that she is avoiding the involvement of the King. If not, she would send the guard.”
“Will you help him?” Calix’s soft voice drew my attention.
A bitterness rose in my throat. “I will not treat you like a boy, not when you’ve proven yourself capable and earned the respect of a man.”
Calix nodded, and his throat bobbed.
“Taking you in … I do not regret it. You’ve earned my trust, Calix. You have a place with me—”
“With us.” Evera reached for the boy’s hand, offering it an encouraging squeeze.
His eyes rounded, and he sucked in his lips.
I sighed. “But I cannot simply take on the care of any child who needs aid. It is much more complicated than that.”
“I understand.” Calix raised his eyes again, a resoluteness there. “But will you let him feed? Once?”
My heart fumbled. Calix was not ignorant. He knew, as I did, that to let one of his kind feed only prolonged the inevitable. If they did not continue to receive the blood, it was a temporary kindness. A swift death would be more forgiving. Yet I understood his concern and could empathize.
“If it does not risk anyone else’s safety,” I conceded.
Nodding, Calix turned his eyes back to the empty glass in his hand without further note.
“So, what is your plan?” Ruairc leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees. To his credit, he’d listened with few questions and had shown no outward sign of disbelief. Whether this was due to a trusting nature or simply a desire to stand by Evera, I was unsure.
“Calix will have to stop feeding,” I said decisively.
If I didn’t draw my blood, the huntsmen would not be able to use their leverage.
“It’s the scent of my blood that attracts their kind.
” I met Calix’s eyes. “At a baser level, they can pick it up from quite a distance.” I turned back to Evera and raised a brow.
“And you, love, will have to refrain from stabbing me.”
“That was an accident,” Evera quipped, wrinkling her nose.
Ruairc laughed, then stifled it with feigned coughs as the attention turned to him.
“So, what do we do?” Evera asked.
“We wait for the huntsman Nox, the one I spoke with the night of the fire. He’s to bring word from my brother.
For now, that is all we can do. Attempting to return to the castle will result in my capture at the bridge.
There’s no alternate route, and charcoal in my hair alone will not deceive the guards stationed at the checkpoint. ”
Twisting her lips in a thoughtful way, Evera studied the floor for a moment.
“What if there is a way to pass the guards at the checkpoints without suspicion?” she queried.
“I’ve pondered every option—”
“Not every option,” Evera said. “If you were to shift—”
I hardened my expression. “The fox cannot be controlled.”
“Curled up in the back of a wagon with Calix; at a quick glance, the guards will assume you are a dog.” She spluttered the words out as if speaking them quickly could alter my resolve.
Raking a hand through his hair, Ruairc sighed deeply. “He can truly …” He flashed a quick glance in my direction. “You’ve seen it?”
“I have.”
“It is a lot to expect someone to believe,” I said.
When Ruairc did not reply and posed no other questions, I spoke to Evera. “We wait for Nox.”
She nodded, though the dejection that flitted through the bond betrayed her disappointment. What she spoke of, though, what she proposed, was not possible. The fox was dangerous.
Biting her lip, Evera raised her sage eyes. “Can I stay the night with you tonight?”
Again, using a forced cough to poorly conceal his reaction, Ruairc pounded at his chest. Could I sit so calmly if I were in his place?
Was his presence here a testament to his devotion to her, his willingness to put her desires first, or was this all a ploy?
Despite Evera’s confidence, I could not bring myself to share her full faith in the man.
Had it been a mistake to tell him as much as we had?
It would be all too easy for him to betray me to the huntsmen in town or to the local commander, to feign no involvement and stand as a comfort to Evera after my execution.
I had to put my faith in Evera, in her reasoning for involving the cobbler. A knot formed in my throat. I’d not put just my own life at risk, but Harlan’s, all in the trust I placed on Evera.
Brushing my thumb her cheek, I held her gaze. My mate. My heart. “I would like nothing more.”