Chapter 30 THE ROOKERY #2
“As long as we do not get close to Riordan. This is his kingdom, and he might be able to sense our power here. Without your ability to portal home, we could not escape from him if he discovered us,” I reminded Ciaran who grunted in acknowledgment of my point.
“You will use the Tithriall if the worst should happen, and I will portal back to your tree. I only ask that you take the time to at least open it for me from the other side,” Ciaran snarked before he sipped his ale.
“I think I can manage,” I assured him as my attention drifted back to the half-naked, fire-wielding fey acrobats.
They were performing as part of a procession that moved down the street past the patio where we sat.
As the humid wind picked up, I could just catch the barest hint of the fish market up the river.
I wanted Sage back now. I did not want to spend days or even weeks in reconnaissance, but I knew that Ciaran was right. We needed to be patient and wait for the right opportunity to snatch Amira.
Gods, I was going to see her again so soon. I couldn’t help but wonder what she would say. What could she say? I supposed I’d know if I read her letter before we met.
“Did you live in this city?” Ciaran asked unexpectedly, and I glanced over to see his gaze was on a pretty female in the fiery procession.
“No. I lived in the forest like most dryads, but I came into the city sometimes. It is beautiful, but the longer you are here, the more you start to see the cracks,” I admitted, gesturing toward a dark alleyway.
Ciaran pulled his gaze away from the female who had noticed him in return and took note of the dirty children crouching against the bricks.
They stayed just out of the light from the lanterns until a drunk male tripped and fell on his face on the cobblestones.
With quick little feet and hands they scurried over to rummage through his pockets for his coin purse and a pretty dagger.
They even took his earrings as he slurred and tried to slap uselessly at them.
The oldest boy was missing a hand, which was a common punishment for theft. I doubted he had another option.
Ciaran’s jaw tightened as he watched them scampering back into the dark while the drunkard thrashed and wailed his protests after them.
“I can see that,” he muttered and took a deep drink of his apple-and-cinnamon-scented ale.
“Are you going to talk to the dancer?” I asked him in order to redirect him toward more pleasant amusements. “Seems like she might be hoping for your attention.”
Ciaran followed my nod toward the pretty blonde and her companions who had all paused in their fire-wielding revelry for a drink at our bar. She glanced over her bare shoulder and gave him a smile as their gazes met again.
Ciaran finished his drink and glanced over at mine to see how I was faring. “Another?” he asked, but I shook my head quickly, barely repressing a knowing snicker.
“Just go,” I invited him, and he winked at me in thanks before turning to the dancer whose gaze trailed over him appreciatively as he walked toward her.
At least one of us would have a good night…
I checked on him a few times, but he seemed to be hitting it off well with the pretty dancer.
His smiles were so easy and flirty, he watched her mouth while she spoke, and casually twirled his finger around her loosened hair.
And unsurprisingly, it was not long before she was taking his hand and dragging him toward the street.
He glanced over at me to ensure I saw him leaving.
“Do not get robbed and left in the gutter,” I mouthed at him deliberately slowly. He frowned just before they both disappeared around the corner of the building, and I was not sure if he had understood or not.
Shaking my head, I took my time finishing my drink and got another while waiting for him. It had been some time since he had gone, so I was expecting him to return at any moment when a flash of flowered antlers made me whirl around in horror.
Sure enough, there were dryads entering the bar patio. Four male dryads…
I froze, my body tensing with dread when one of their emerald gazes landed on me.
He tilted his head curiously, his eyes widening as if he were as surprised by the sight of me as I was at the sight of him.
And I did not mean to betray such a visceral reaction, but my ears flattened and my upper lip curled in a warning snarl at him.
Thankfully, he averted his gaze, and his ears gave a meek flicker backward that surprised me as he continued to the bar where his companions were ordering drinks.
They looked like Summer fey with antlers wreathed in stunning flowers, and foliage was growing from their skin to cover their lower bodies.
One of them even sported a pair of dragonfly wings that were similar to what I often grew from my back.
Their scant coverings exposed brown skin and powerful physiques, which were drawing plenty of attention from nearby fey.
Especially since they were all so undeniably handsome and jubilant as they laughed.
They seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves as they claimed a table across the patio.
I judged them to be younger than me, most likely still in their first century.
But they were not from the Rowan Wood. My people practiced stoicism while these males were all flirtatious smiles and playful shoves as they goaded one another.
And now that I allowed myself to study them, I noticed other differences like how they seemed to prefer to keep their hair short.
It was also curly, and two of the males, including the one with the conjured wings, had dark hair that was uncharacteristic of my people.
I would have to get closer to taste their magic to know for sure, but I had no intentions of doing that.
I needed to leave before they decided to wander over and investigate.
Aside from Aodhan, I’d never seen another dryad outside Sumarra before, so it was likely a first for them as well.
They would undoubtedly be curious about me.
As suspected, I glanced discreetly over to find the one with emerald eyes was looking at me again.
He lowered his head to break our staring and elbowed his companion before whispering.
It was not long before, one by one, every pair of eyes at their table was on me with their ears all perked up in curiosity.
I rose, the impulse to flee from them an urgent thrum in my blood that made me clumsy as I darted for the gate of the patio. The bar had gotten much busier, the dryads had claimed the last of the tables, so I was hard pressed to weave quickly through all the bodies toward the exit.
A very tall and very broad male form slipped in front of me just before I reached the street, and I looked up into those emerald eyes under dark curls. Sensing his friend on my right, I turned and bore my teeth up at the curly-haired blond who shifted back with lowered ears.
“You are one of the Ruadhán,” stated the dark-haired dryad in front of me with a sickeningly familiar accent.
He did not sound hostile, and although they’d stopped me from leaving, they maintained a respectful distance with their hands held out unthreateningly.
I racked my brain, knowing we had cousin tribes in Sumarra, but I had no idea what our relationship was like with any of them. The only reason I even knew that they existed was from hearing my father mention it in passing. Females were not taught anything about the world outside of the Rowan Wood.
“And?” I snapped back, and he raised his hands higher in what I assumed was a demonstration of peace.
“We are from the Oak Wood. My name is Faolán and this is Seaghán,” he explained with a slow gesture at the blond who did not conceal his confusion with my clothes. “We were surprised to see another of our kind so far from our home!” he explained.
“That place was never my home,” I assured him.
“Oh. I am… sorry to hear that,” he said, glancing over at Seaghán as if for help. “What is your name?”
“Why do you want to know?” I retorted, confused and unsettled by their dispositions that seemed so at odds with every other dryad male I’d ever met. It could be a trap!
“I suppose it is only polite,” Faolán shrugged.
“What are you doing outside of Sumarra?” I asked him before he could speak again.
“We are all here for briseadh,” he told me excitedly, glancing at his other two companions who both waved at us from their table.
“What the fuck is briseadh?” I demanded.
“You do not practice the Rites?” he asked in surprise. Seeing my flat expression, he hurried to explain. “It is a custom in which youth go out into the world to gain some experience and perspective. Admittedly, we rarely go out of Summer Court, but my mother, Queen Saoirse, is—”
“Wait,” I interrupted him, holding up a hand in front of his face to stop him. “Did you just say… queen?”
“Yes,” said Faolán slowly, his eyes darting to Seaghán again as if they were starting to regret talking to me.
“You have a queen?” I verified again, resisting an urge to grab his shoulders and shake him.
“Well, there are three. The Trinity,” he said haltingly. “Do you not also have a Trinity of Queens?”
“No,” I deadpanned.
“I see. Well, the Leamhán in the Elm Wood have the council of Elder Daughters of Danu… Do you have that?” he guessed. He seemed confused about why we were even discussing this but determined to be polite nonetheless.
I could only stare at him, processing only abstractedly that his brows rose and his ears pinned back nervously.
“Your females… govern you.”
“As Danu wished,” he confirmed with a slow nod.
I could not fucking breathe. I thought I might pass out, but then a strong and familiar hand clamped around my arm and tugged me back a step into a chest.
“Everything alright here?” Ciaran asked as his shrewd eyes assessed both of the younger males.
“I think so?” Faolán said, looking at me to confirm.
“Ornella?” Ciaran prompted me.
“We do not have queens or any councils with females on them,” I blurted, the words rushing out of me. I did not understand it, but the urge to tell Faolán the truth of my people was undeniable. “Males rule the Rowan Wood and harness their females to steal power.”
Faolán went pale, his confused expression slackening into one of the utmost horror.
“I think perhaps it is time to go,” murmured Ciaran, tugging me back while I watched Faolán processing what I’d told him. And some broken part of me rejoiced when he looked at Seaghán who shared his unbridled disgust.
Because it was not all male dryads after all…
Ciaran finally turned me away and put an arm around me to guide me through the throngs of people on the street until I regained my senses.
Once I could walk on my own without tripping, he released me and waved me over to a food stand next to the bar.
The clerk seemed to recognize him and passed over a good deal of takeaway in several broadleaf wraps, which Ciaran must have ordered before he came back for me.
“Needed a refuel?” I forced myself to laugh, but my mind was still reeling from what I had learned.
That there were other dryad tribes out there that did not practice the brutality my people seemed to crave so deeply.
That there were dryad males who laughed and flirted and respected a female when she flattened her ears at him.
Ciaran smirked in response, but I understood his real intentions when he made us cross the street near to where the thieving orphans were still hiding. They shrank back into the shadows at our approach, but Ciaran merely set the warm meals down on the cobblestones and continued on his way with me.
I glanced back and could not help smiling when I saw them creeping into the light, blinking at us in confusion. Each of them quickly snatched up a bundle of food and disappeared into the dark again.
“You will have all the strays following us before we are done here,” I guessed, but Ciaran merely shrugged.
“Then I will ensure they get breakfast too.”