53. Brennen
brENNEN
Aweek passes in the same routine. Days of sitting by the fire reading through Harold's journal, Bea beside me, dagger clutched firmly in her hand. Nights where we lie beside each other, never touching. Barely sleeping. Barely breathing.
She's had two visions since the blacksmith, and neither of the women’s clothes floated down the river.
Her plan is working.
Though her eyes are tired, her soft smile doesn't fade, and in that smile, I feel I understand her a bit more.
She has a purpose now. A reason to live, and that terrifies me.
As does the way I cannae stop watching her. Every shift catches my eye. Every sound my ear.
As if taunting me, she looks up, and my gaze finds hers immediately. Our eyes lock, and my chest tightens. I clear my throat, standing. I need some space from this. Some distance from the monster who is not a monster at all. I whistle for Sable.
“You’re leaving?” Bea asks, stopping me.
“Aye. It’s been long enough for me to go back to the village safely. “I should return this,” I say, lifting the book. “And I need to get more food.”
She ties her hair back, and my hands itch to undo it. To unbind her curls and watch them blow wildly in the wind. It only solidifies my resolve to get some space. I cannae be thinking of her like this. Not now, or ever.
She presses her lips together. “Do you think maybe there are more books where you got that one? Something other than journals? I'd love something to read. But of course I understand if—”
“I'll ask,” I say, growing more desperate to leave the glen by the second.
Her gentle smile grows, and the unwanted feeling coiling beneath my ribs twists tighter.
I try to ignore it, but even as I walk away, as I ride Sable toward Dalbàsail, pushing her to jump over fallen logs and dart through trees, the feeling stays with me.
It refuses to ease. More stubborn than even my shadow.
It isnae until the now familiar gates to the village appear that a small fraction of the pressure in my chest loosens. Here, I can just be. There is no war inside my mind. No one I must kill.
It starts to snow as I tie Sable to Harold's gate and make my way toward the tavern—thick, fluffy flakes, and before I even make it to Theo's doorstep, there's a dusting on the ground.
I push my way inside, kicking my boots against the doorframe.
It's still somewhat early, but a few guardians sit around the tables playing a game of knucklebones. I do not recognize them, but based on the single stripes on their uniforms and lack of dàn adorning their necks and forearms, they’re low ranking.
I clear my throat, and they jump to their feet, placing their hands behind their back. It's a sign of respect, one I've performed thousands of times to higher-ranking guardians than I, but in this case, it feels wrong. Forced, almost.
They are here because of Cailleach’s anger at me. Because she wants me to feel the pressure of her presence and remind me that she is always watching.
Remind me that my family’s strings are in her hands.
“Please,” I say, nodding at the chairs. “Sit.”
“Join us,” one of them says. I do not allow my eyes to flick around the room to look for Theo, pulling out a chair even though the last thing I wish to do is share a drink with men searching for reasons to report my misdeeds.
What I want is to talk to Theo. To gather information about what’s happened since I saw him last, and learn the kinds of questions Cailleach’s guardians have been asking.
“I see Cailleach sent me some assistance. What a nice surprise,” I say.
“You didn't know we were here?” one of them asks.
“No…” I let the word trail off, raising my eyebrows.
“Bradley.”
“Bradley. I just arrived back from a visit to my family this morning. I appreciate you all filling in in my stead.”
“It's no trouble,” another one says.
“And you are?”
“Phillip.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You think it's no trouble to guard the Washwoman?” I ask.
“Well, it would be if we were allowed to see her. We were given direct orders. Leave the Washwoman alone. Be here, in case you need our help and—”
“Report my every move back to the Cutter,” I say, folding my hands and leaning on the table. I smile like it's a joke, but they stiffen, their eyes darting between one another.
“Of course not,” Bradley says. “We're simply meant to be available should you need us. It's been quite fun, actually.”
He's a terrible liar. All of them are. Bradley looks to the left while the man who hasn't shared his name fiddles with the buttons on his uniform.
“Och, I'm only joking, lads,” I say, slapping Bradley on the arm a little too hard. “There would be nothing to tell. Though I could use your help.”
They lean forward, intrigued.
“Keep your ears out for information. I'm sure Cailleach told you the Washwoman cannae be killed. The village is afraid of her, but they talk about her often. Write down what you hear them say. Anything at all about her.”
“We can do that," Philip says eagerly, appearing grateful I've moved on from my accusation of them spying.
The man to my left drops his voice low. “Are there any ceatharnaich here?” he asks, eyes darting around excitedly.
Bradley laughs. “That’s Jamie. Ignore him. He's bored. He doesnae like to drink, and doesnae like the lasses, either. There’s not been much to do here other than that.”
I force a laugh even though I find his bright-eyed question repulsive. Why would he wish for there to be ceatharnaich? So he could execute them to pass the time?
“Sorry to disappoint you, but no. There are no ceatharnaich here.
I've been watching the people here for weeks.
It's just a small town with villagers whose biggest concern is putting food on the table and staying safe from the Washwoman.” I stand.
“Now, keep your ears out for me. I need to speak with the barkeep about replenishing supplies.”
They nod, turning to one another and going back to their knucklebones. I keep one ear on their conversation, but can only hear bits and pieces.
“Washwoman.”
“She’ll want to know.”
And then a relieved voice. “Didnae come back early.”
Good. Let them tell her I followed her rules. Garrick will corroborate it.
I take a seat at the bar, and after a few moments, Anna approaches, giving me a broad smile. Her bruises are gone, and her face appears less gaunt, as if she’d had a few good meals since leaving.
“It’s nice to see you again. Can I get you anything?” she asks.
I return her smile. “No, I’m here to speak with Theo. You look well. How are the bairns?”
Her eyes light up. “Happiest they’ve ever been. Theo has been letting Billy help with odds and ends around here. Giving him a purpose. It’s done wonders.”
“Aye. It’s good for children to learn responsibility,” I nod, thinking of my siblings.
“You speak as if you know first hand. Do you have children?” she asks, wiping the counter.
“No. I have younger siblings, though, back home in Vengach.”
Theo appears, carrying a box down the stairs. He lets loose a breath when he sees me, relief settling over his features. Anna nods at me, moving on to tend to a patron at the other end of the bar.
“Brennen. Havenae seen you in a while. I was starting to worry,” he says, and I force a laugh.
“Took an unexpected trip to visit my family,” I say, glad that he, too, can confirm that I didnae defy the Cutter’s orders.
“Here for supplies?” he asks, his eyes flicking to the guardians seated behind me.
“Aye.” I give a sharp nod.
“They're in the back. Come with me,” he says, leading me around the bar and through a separate door. I follow, and we walk in silence, twisting through a long dark hallway until we come to a damp store room.
“Can they hear us?” he whispers.
I pull out my carving, wanting to busy my fingers to dispel some of my nervous energy. “No. They're too low ranking for the Cutter to give them a dàn of hearing.”
His face relaxes. “Good. Where have you been? Did you truly go to see your family as they said?”
I rub my hand down my face. “I did, but not because I wanted to. It was on Cailleach’s orders.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Why would she do that?”
“She didnae like that I questioned her.”
“I dinnae like them here. They’ll bring nothing but trouble," he says.
“Aye. And not just because they're watching me. They were just asking if there are rebels here,” I say.
Theo’s eyes go wide. “Of course there aren’t.”
“I dinnae ken if it matters. You know as well as I do that Harold's journal is enough for the Cutter to think there is, should she find out about it.”
He shakes his head. “It's just his grandda's journal. You can't fault him—”
I narrow my eyes and cross my arms. “It's more than that, and you ken it,” I say.
My statement hangs there between us, loaded with meaning.
Because while I know there aren't rebels lurking about planning to overthrow the queens, I also know that the people here do not consider themselves her loyal subjects, either.
Theo’s jaw works, his hands clenching into fists. “No one here would dare risk their lives to defy the Fates.”
I lift my hands in front of me. “I know.
And you're all safe. With me, at least. But you need to understand the gravity of the situation you are all now in.
Cailleach is watching me closely. If she gets any suspicion the people here are against her, she'll have Athair burn this entire village to the ground in a single breath, and she willnae lose a wink of sleep over it.”
“But you’re one of her top Dìdeanair. Why would she be watching you?”
I take a second to listen, making sure none of the guards have followed. My dàn of warning remains silent. “Bea has been having visions. The women who are disappearing, she sees them. Every single one. But she sees their lives instead of their deaths, and then she’s sent their clothes to wash.
Theo pales. “What do you mean? The disappearing women are… They're all dead?”
I nod. “Aye. And the Cutter refused to hear of it.”
Theo rubs the back of his neck. “What does this mean?”
“It means someone has magic like this,” I say, holding up the book.
“Someone is killing outside of the Fates’ power.
But the women’s souls are not passing into the After.
They’re trapped, haunting the river. And the Cutter is too prideful to do anything to stop it.
” Just saying the words makes anger ignite in my chest.
Theo shakes his head. “That will only make the ceatharnaich more active. If they find out the Cutter is doing nothing to stop their women from disappearing—”
“It will be all-out war.” The statement settles between us, filling the dank space with a violent intensity.
Theo begins to pace. “What do we do? How can we stop it?”
His nervous energy bounces off me, and I lean against the wall, suddenly exhausted. “I dinnae ken. Have you heard of any other disappearances?”
“Not for several days. And the guards talk when they're drunk. I'm sure I'd have heard if there’d been another.”
“There was no blacksmith who disappeared?”
He shakes his head, eyebrows scrunching together. “No. No blacksmith.”
Pride swells in my chest. She really did it.
“Bea is stopping the deaths. She learned if you destroy a dedication dàn, it disconnects you from magic completely.
Whoever is doing this, they cannae reach you if your dàn isnae intact.
Which is exactly why Harold's book is so dangerous.
Whoever is doing this, they've found a way to manifest magic outside the Fates.”
“Harold would never hurt anyone.”
“I know that. But it doesnae matter. If Cailleach starts searching for people using magic outside their design, she will kill him without a thought. He needs to burn it.” I pull out the book. “This, and anything else he has that could link him to magic. Will you tell him?”
“Aye. But he said he found something else. He wants to talk to you.”
I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. “Bea told me. But I can't go to him now, not with the guards watching.”
He stops pacing. “He comes in every evening. I'll tell him you'll come in the night.”
I appraise Theo for a moment, his eagerness to help. To do the right thing. It’s admirable, and I find that I trust him more than I’d have thought possible. “Have him leave the door unlocked. I'll find him when it's safe.”
Theo walks to the corner where a stack of supplies sits, as if he'd been preparing for this for days. Dried meats and fruit. Bread and nuts. He hands it to me.
“I think you’re right about the guardians. The Cutter is having them watch you. They've been asking after you. About Bea, as well.”
I hold his stare. “You need to be careful then, because after meeting with me, I'm certain they're watching you now, too.”