Chapter 33 #2
Emlyn guides us to one of the outer tables that offers a decent view of the room. He sits with his back against the wall, and I move to the opposite side, but he pats the spot next to him and waves me over.
“I can’t have you blocking my view,” he says, leaning in as I sit next to him. “We’re here to eat, but I’m still working.”
“But it’s too loud to hear what anyone’s saying.”
Emlyn chuckles. “Maybe for you. But it doesn’t matter—I’m meeting an informant. That’s what the figs were all about.”
He sticks his arm up in the air and waves. A minute later, a woman comes over, and he orders some food and fig wine, handing her a couple of those wooden disks from before.
“Is that money?” I ask after she leaves.
Emlyn fishes another one out of his pocket and hands it to me. “Don’t lose that—I don’t have much left.”
I flip the disk over in my fingers. The smooth wood has intricately braided patterns carved into both sides, with a small, golden sphere set into the middle.
“That’s a piece of antler from a type of deer no one outside of the Evermoor family’s allowed to raise.
The larger the chip, the more valuable it is.
” Emlyn leans in so his voice is audible over the buzz of the room.
“Supposedly, there’s a trick to making those patterns that only the crown’s shapers know. ”
The woman returns with a tray of food and a jug filled with thick maroon liquid. Emlyn pours it into two clay cups, the liquid flowing at the speed of molasses, then passes one to me. The sickeningly sweet smell tugs at my gag reflex.
I lower it away from my face. “I don’t see how this classifies as wine.”
“Just try it.” Emlyn takes a sip of his.
I eye him suspiciously, recalling Caeo’s reaction to the last—and first—drink Emlyn bought me, then take the smallest sip possible.
The second it touches my tongue, I nearly spit it out. I force myself to swallow and immediately regret it.
“Ancients, that’s awful,” I sputter, trying to keep it down. “I can feel it dripping down my throat.”
“Hey, you said Ancients!”
Emlyn knocks his cup against mine. He takes a bigger gulp of his, and my stomach lurches just imagining that much of the offensive liquid in my mouth. I set my cup down far, far away, and focus on the food.
The tray contains a variety of fresh fruit, some hard-boiled eggs, and a block of cheese. I go straight for the eggs, savoring their warmth after days of eating nothing but cold nuts and fruit. While we eat, Emlyn swipes the rest of my drink and orders me some water.
He relaxes against the wall, sipping more of the disgusting beverage. “Now we wait for my informant to get here.” He glances at me, his eyebrows cinching together. “It might actually be best if you head back to the inn.”
“Why?”
Emlyn shifts his position. “He has certain… expectations… about how our conversation will go. I’ll have to go along with that to get what I need.”
“What kind of expectations?” I ask warily.
Emlyn’s eyes dart across the room. I follow his gaze to a tall, brown-haired fae heading toward us. He plops down on the other side of Emlyn, diagonally to me.
“Nye,” Emlyn says with a nod.
A shit-eating grin stretches across Nye’s face. “Emlyn, what an unexpected pleasure. Who’s your friend?” My skin crawls as his eyes roam over me.
Emlyn squeezes my leg under the table. “He’s not for you.”
Wait… What?
Nye’s eyebrow curls up. “Oh? Should I be lowering my expectations for the evening?”
“I didn’t say that.” Emlyn leans toward Nye with an extremely familiar smile.
It’s as if I took a giant gulp of fig wine. Before I know it, I’ve pushed myself from the table, stumbling for the door.
The moment I step outside, I double over, gasping for air. Emlyn appears a few seconds later, pulling me up and away from the entrance.
“I did suggest you go back to the inn,” he says.
A blaze roars to life in my chest. “So you could fuck him without me knowing about it?”
His grip on my arm tightens, and he pulls me further away from the tavern. “Quiet down.” He takes a breath. “I didn’t… Look—he’s one of my best sources. I need to find out what he knows.”
I yank free of him. “And how far will you go to get that?”
“As far as I have to. I’m sorry, but this is my job.”
My heart lurches. “What about me? What about us?”
He throws his hands up. “There’s barely an ‘us,’ Reid! You’re too caught up being a martyr, and I can’t keep waiting around for someone who’s not even willing to try. If you’re gonna be mad at anyone, be mad at yourself. Not me.”
His words hit like a punch. Thoughts—excuses, accusations—tumble through my mind, but none make it past more than a few words. The truth sinks in like a brick in a bowl of jelly.
He’s right.
All this time, I’ve been using Ellie and Caeo as a barrier to keep him at arm’s length. Putting their needs first to keep from looking deeper.
Falling into a relationship with a fae… it would mean throwing the tattered remains of my life away.
Everything I ever worked for, my friends, the world I grew up in—I’d be trading it all for him.
A man who’s flat out told me not to trust him, yet is the only thing anchoring me in the shitstorm my life’s become.
I can’t meet his eyes.
Emlyn sighs. “Just… go back to the inn.”
He turns away. Gone. Back inside.
Back with Nye.
The shambles of my former life are pinpricks compared to the landslide tearing through my heart. I somehow find my way back to the inn, to our room, and curl up on top of the bed, ignoring the blankets. No thoughts form. Just a raw, aching emptiness.
It’s several bells before Emlyn returns, the door barely a whisper as it opens and shuts. A moment later, the mattress shifts as he lies down on the bed beside me.
“Reid?” His voice is quiet, tinged with concern.
I pretend to be asleep.
* * *
It’s mid-morning when I wake, and Emlyn’s gone. I sit on the edge of the bed, staring out the window, dreading his return almost as much as I long for it.
I wish last night had never happened. That I could go back in time and get out of my head, pay attention to what was right in front of me. To be brave enough to take the leap with him.
The door creaks open.
“I got some more food.” Emlyn’s voice sticks as it comes out. “We should get going. We’ll be lucky if we make it to White Spring by nightfall.”
I barely manage to speak. “I thought we had till tomorrow.”
“Nye had useful information. It’d be good to discuss it with Taran before we meet with everyone else.”
My heart can’t sink any lower. “I see.”
The bed shifts as Emlyn sits next to me, but I keep my gaze out the window.
“I didn’t sleep with him. I didn’t do anything except talk. He was… very upset when he realized I wasn’t giving him anything.”
My gaze drifts to Emlyn’s hand, resting on his thigh. His finger twitches.
“I gave up my best source for you. I hope…” He sighs, then lifts his hand to tuck his braids back. “This is all new to me, and I don’t know what I’m doing. I just… I know this is a risk for you. I hope you think I’m worth it.” He grabs his pack and stands, leaving my sight.
Relief trickles down my throat. Maybe it’s not too late?
But I haven’t a clue how to fix things—risking his job is one thing, but giving up my whole life is completely different.
So I follow, still numb. Out the door, out of the village.
We walk through the forest in silence, my eyes on Emlyn’s feet as I trail behind.
Of all things, Ellie’s words keep looping through my mind.
Put yourself first for once. As addled as her brain is, maybe she’s right.
Even when I dedicated myself to incanting, it wasn’t because fighting fae was the life I wanted.
It just made me feel special. Without any family who gave a damn about me, it was the only thing that did.
But what would make me happiest?
The shackles constraining my ribs erode into nothing. My lungs breathe deep just as I almost collide with Emlyn’s back. He reaches out, steadying me with his hand.
I glance up at his face. “What’s wrong?”
Emlyn’s expression is tight. “We need to change course.” He turns to his right, picking up his pace.
His apprehension’s palpable, a jolt of nerves filling the emptiness in my rib cage. A quarter bell later, he sharply changes direction again.
He stops a few minutes later.
“Shit.”
My heart pounds as I step beside him. “What’s going on?”
Emlyn drops his head, hand braced on his hip as he rubs his face. “We’re being followed. Nye must have told someone about us.”
“Because you didn’t fuck him?” I ask, the words bitter on my tongue.
Emlyn glares at me. “Maybe someday you’ll understand how disappointing that can be.”
“I’m fairly certain I already know.”
“You won’t really know until you’ve experienced it.”
Heat floods my chest. “Well, maybe we can resolve that after we’ve dealt with whoever’s following us.”
Did I really just commit to that? A spark flares amid my rising panic.
A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of Emlyn’s mouth before he buries it beneath the gravity of the situation. “If we survive.”
“What?!” My flicker of excitement sputters and dies as dread engulfs me in ice. “How many are there?”
“Five. And they’re almost here.” He draws two long white daggers from straps around his legs.
“You better get your sword out.”