Ealasaid obviously knew it too, but was not nearly as accepting of the fact.
“We have to do something,” she grumbled, gazing across the square at the morose villagers adding up what they had left, and debating their chances of surviving through winter.
“Like what?” he asked, hoping she would soon realize how silly it was to worry. The villagers fates were all but sealed.
A grim look of determination took over her delicate face. “Like track down An Fiach and reclaim the horses and supplies.”
Maarav burst out laughing, and that grim look was suddenly directed at him. Unfortunately for her, he was not one to quaver at the wrong end of any threatening look, especially not one from a lovely young lady.
“Forgive me,” he continued to laugh. “While your lightning is highly impressive, I do not believe you are a match for fifty soldiers.”
She lifted her freckled nose in the air. “So we’re to just turn a blind eye to injustice?”
He smirked, but his expression slowly fell as he realized the source of her venom. “You know,” he began soberly, “the men who raided this village are likely not the ones who destroyed yours.”
She scowled at him. “You’re right, since the villagers here were left alive. It still doesn’t mean that these men should not pay for their crimes.”
Maarav patted her shoulder. “Justice is best left to the gods, lass. Let us focus on staying alive, for now.”
Her ire-filled expression faltered. “Do you truly believe Slàine will come after us?”
He chuckled and leaned his back against the inn’s exterior wall. “Oh I have little doubt. We will need to stay one step ahead for quite some time, and getting back into Finn’s good graces couldn’t hurt. I’d be a fool to believe that Slàine won’t try for her again, but Finn has at least proven she can best an entire flock of assassins.”
Ealasaid sighed. “You’re an assassin too, aren’t you,” she muttered without the inclination of a question. Before he could answer, she turned and walked toward the stable where they’d left their horse tied outside of the pens.
He pushed away from the wall to catch up with her. “I was,” he answered honestly. “And perhaps some day I will be again, if my coin purse grows light.”
She stopped walking and narrowed her eyes at him. “How could you do something like that? Kill an innocent person?”
He laughed and continued walking, reaching their horse to untie its reins. “No one is innocent, lass. Not even you.”
Ealasaid was silent for a long time after that, even as they mounted their horse and left the burgh. While Maarav had only spoken the truth, he sincerely hoped he hadn’t gone too far. He’d do well to not alienate the last living person willing to stand by his side . . . though he didn’t quite understand why she still did so at all.
Chapter Eleven
Leaning her back against the cold stone wall, Finn reached out and stroked her fingers across the iron bars of her prison. Her magic, had she the ability to control it, would do her no good here. She remembered Oighear now, though she wished she could forget.
In the memory, she felt small, merely a child new to the world of man. She could recall a meeting.
Many gathered around a long wooden table, darkened with age. It glistened in the candlelight, casting an eerie glow on the faces of those seated. At the table’s head sat Oighear in a glittering white gown, with two of the Aos Sí standing at her back. On her spider silk tresses rested a delicate crown, bedecked with jewels as clear as rain.
Oighear, terrifying and beautiful, huddled in the corner, while several members of Finn’s tribe looked over a treaty being passed around the table. All of the Cavari wore hoods to cover their features, as did some others around the table that were strangers to Finn.
The treaty reached Oighear. Instead of touching it herself, one of the Aos Sí pressed the parchment firmly against the table in front of her. She dipped a quill in ink to sign the treaty, but hesitated. “We will remain within the new borders, as promised,” she began, “but I want assurances that our magic will remain unhindered. Though the earthen powers may be dwindling, there is still enough to share.”
There were murmurs around the table, then a figure opposite Oighear nodded.
Oighear took a deep breath. “For the safety of my people in this war, I will do as you ask, but let me be clear. We will not remain trapped forever.” She leveled her glare at each of the figures seated around the table in turn, then with a heavy sigh, signed the parchment.
The cloaked figures stood. One branched away from the group and approached Finn. She caught a glimpse of her mother’s face in the shadowy depths of the hood, smiling at her. “Come Finnur,” she whispered, taking Finn’s small hand. “It’s time to go.”
Finn sighed, returning to the present, and the dreary confines of her cell. She felt an odd pang of heartache at the memory of her mother’s touch. She ran her fingers up and down the cold bar again. She supposed she couldn’t blame Oighear for imprisoning her. The Dair had betrayed her people. The treaty had been meant to bind the Faie to the land beyond the Blood Forest, but Oighear did not understand the full terms. The seasons were changing, and magic was leaving the land. She’d unintentionally cut her people off from too much, and they had faded away. Once she’d been weakened, her shroud had been stolen. The funeral shroud not of Oighear, but of her mother, the true Faie Queen.
Finn curled up in the corner of her cell, experiencing just what Oighear had felt when she was cut off from her power. Every inch of the compound seemed to be warded against her magic. She hadn’t known just how much she felt her connection to the earth at all times, until it wasn’t there.
Hushed voices nearing her cell drew her attention. She sat up, but remained in the shadows near the wall. A lantern came into view first, then Eywen’s face. Had he come to torment her? To punish her for what her people had done to the Aos Sí?
Finn nearly jumped out of her skin as Iseult’s face appeared behind Eywen. Several other forms lurked behind them in the dimly lit room.
Eywen lifted a heavy keyring, then unlocked the barred door of her cell. She looked up at him, confused, and he held a finger to his lips, then gestured for her to stand.
She did as she was bade, then hurried to Iseult’s side. Now that she was close enough, she could see Kai, Anna, Sativola, and Bedelia. She opened her mouth to ask Iseult what was happening, but like Eywen, he held a finger to his lips.
Eywen turned and led them back out of the room, shielding his lantern with his free arm. They moved single file down a narrow corridor. If it weren’t for her death-grip on the back of Iseult’s arm, she likely would have stumbled in the near-darkness several times.
They reached the end of the corridor and Finn tensed in alarm, then relaxed. Eywen’s lantern allowed just enough light to illuminate several armored guards waiting for them, but they had all slumped to the floor. At first Finn thought they were dead, then one twitched, scaring her out of her wits. They were merely in a deep, unnatural slumber.