Chapter 23 #3
“You mentioned a safe haven for fairies earlier,” I said quietly, pulling Rowan’s attention away from where Zia’s hands pressed to Cliff’s swollen bite.
He looked at me askance. “Did I?”
“You made it seem like Aelthorin was a temporary stay. Where’s your home village?”
“Nowhere that exists anymore.”
“Humans?”
To my surprise, he shook his head. “No. Our destruction is thanks to a neighboring village with generations of mounting rivalry. Now, neither place is alive to hate the other. Our people are more than capable of being needlessly cruel to their own.” He scrutinized the traitor mark on my face. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
Being shamed by my people on the will of our council was one thing, but the destruction of two entire villages?
The horror of it dried my mouth. Then there was Aelthorin, also gone.
Mother and Hazel may have been spared the brutality of capture, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how many more fairies must be in captivity.
Aelthorin couldn’t be the only raided village, either.
That terrible thought spread like poison in my mind. “Aren’t you worried that your haven has been unearthed by humans as well?”
“Not likely. The whispers say that even fairies struggle to find Hearthwood without a guide. I doubt humans would have much better luck.”
I frowned, shocked that someone like Rowan would leave anything up to rumors. “How do you know it’s even real, then?”
He looked me dead in the eye, exhausted beyond his years. “It has to be.”
Our low conversation was interrupted by Cliff’s relieved sigh when the healing reached its end. Sections of the tattoos on his chest were distorted from the heavy bruising, but it wouldn’t be the first time.
“Someone’s gunning for your job,” Cliff informed me.
I waved him off. “It’s about time I’ve had a break anyway.” But I softened, wondering if there was any chance he would allow Zia to quiet his mind as well. “Are you…doing alright? After everything?”
Immediately, Cliff’s walls began to go up in response to the asinine question. As though any of us were okay after tonight.
Still, he answered.
“The more I think about it, I guess I’m not surprised my dad would get swept up in all of this once he found out about this world—or that he would try to rope me back in once he had proof that I wasn’t out of my fucking mind. He was always obsessed with blood being more important than anything.”
His mouth hardened into a thoughtful line. Then he looked directly at Ben—who, I realized, had all but retreated into himself since Cliff’s arrival. “After you…did whatever you did,” Cliff said, “I didn’t get a good look. Is that going to kill my dad?”
Ben fidgeted. “I-I…”
“For the record, I’m not mad about it,” Cliff said, though he certainly didn’t seem thrilled about it either. “After everything he’s done, and everything he was going to do, he got what was coming to him. I just…want to know.”
Slowly, Ben found the courage to look at Cliff. “My aim wasn’t to kill him, but I can’t be sure. It wasn’t a precise spell. I’d call it a torrent of everything I had left in me.” He glanced at me. “And more.”
“Fairies with primary glamour affinities are exceedingly rare,” Zia supplied when Cliff furrowed his brow in confusion. “What Ben did is more akin to a fireside tale.”
One of the most harrowing, I thought.
“Although his follower may have carried him into the forest, I’m doubtful they could survive the fire,” Rowan said. “But who knows. Zia and I saw only a glimpse of their resources while in captivity. We can only pray the stars give them a slow, painful end.”
Questions hung heavy in the air, especially knowing that we had to accept the uncertainty in exchange for the safety of Delilah’s secluded home.
Seeing the troubled look on Cliff’s face, pulling him further away, I tried to anchor him back. I cleared my throat, tilting my head as I looked him over. “So… When were you going to tell me your real name is Elliot?”
Cliff made a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “Never. I always hated it.”
“It’s not so bad,” I said, but my shit-eating grin earned me a flat look from him. “Okay, it’s not great—”
“It makes me sound like a damn oil miser in his nineties,” Cliff grumbled.
I snorted softly. “No offense, but I never would have guessed that you grew up wealthy.”
“Sounds like I did a damn good job of washing it off me.”
“But come on.” I gestured at the room around us. “Now that the secret’s out, any chance we can swap dingy motel rooms for lodgings like these from now on?”
“Should’ve known you’d be spoiled after one taste of luxury.” Although he was smiling, it nowhere near banished the storm clouds behind his eyes.
Zia’s wings caught the firelight as she pulled back in the air. Gathering her long green hair over one shoulder, she threaded her fingers through to fix her braids. “You can put your shirt back on,” she informed Cliff.
Cliff did so, a wicked gleam surfacing in his gaze—the familiar mischief I had missed dearly tonight.
“Still think I’m pretty for a hunter?” he drawled.
Zia burst out in a short, musical laugh. “Shut up.”