“Rourke. You can’t blame yourself. Is that why you left the rebels?”
A pause. “No. If anything, I was more intent on joining them then, and so I did. It wasn’t until much later that I left. They were’t doing anything. They liked to talk big and prowl their woods, but the most they ever do is keep a close eye on the comings and goings of the Royals.”
“But I don’t understand why teaching changelings has the power to change things. Why not something else?”
“Like what, Norah?” He gave a slight shake of his head. “As an Autumn fae, the Hunters of another Court would never have me. At the Academy, I have the chance to introduce changelings to the possibility that the realm is not at its best in its current situation. Plant seeds of doubt. Nurture those seeds and watch them grow. Make those at the Academy who end up joining the Autumn Court think twice about blindly serving a cruel Queen.”
“And do you think it’s helped?” I asked. “All this seed planting you’ve done.”
He arched an eyebrow and regarded me with a strange expression. “You tell me, Norah. From where I’m sitting, it looks as though your seed has done far more than sprout a tiny bud.”
I stared at him. “You did your seed planting with me.”
“I do it with all the changelings.”
I thought back to the first night on Watch Duty, when he’d swung around to talk wistfully about the old ways. He’d pointed out the clouds, he’d mentioned the storms. All this time, I’d thought he’d sought me out specifically, that he’d wanted to share his thoughts only with me. Instead, it was just something he told all the changelings.
That horrible weary sadness shook me to my very bones.
With a sharp intake of breath, I stood. I was still wobbly on my feet, but I didn’t want to stick around and hear any more. The thought of him climbing into another guard tower and waxing poetic to another changeling...well, it made my heart feel strangely tight and uncomfortably hot.
“That’s satisfied you?” He frowned as he pushed himself up from the ground. “I have to say, I’m surprised. I thought you’d be much more intent on wringing out as many details as you could.”
My voice was cold when I replied. “One step forward in training. One question. That’s it, right? Well, I’ve heard everything I need to know. I’m just a seed to you. A stupid blank wooden seed.”
And with that, I flew from the courtyard and into my room, throwing the lock shut on my door. I didn’t want to see anyone for the rest of the night.
“I heard you made some progress last night.” Liam leaned in close, passing the tray of scones into my hands. We’d all gathered for breakfast in the hall, the war map replaced with trays upon trays of food. The “Lesser Fae”, as Phelan kept calling them, were happily chirping around our table, serving each plate with extra morsels. They’d heard news of hope, news of a plan, though they didn’t know the details of the mission.
The fae seemed eager to put these horrible attacks and storms behind them, a grim reminder of exactly how much rested on my unlikely success.
“Yeah, I made some progress,” I said bitterly, studiously avoiding Rourke’s golden eyes. He was stationed directly across the table from me, which made the whole avoiding thing terribly difficult. But he considered me a seed, one that was no different than any of the other hundreds of changelings he must have met over the years. How many girls had he lured in the forest? Had he used them as bait, too?
And why in the name of the forest should that made me feel so terrible?
Liam arched an eyebrow and barked out a laugh when I stabbed one of the scones with the end of my knife. “Dare I ask why you’re so grumpy about it?”
“It’s not important,” I muttered.
“Yes, why are you so grumpy about it, Norah?” Rourke’s cool voice drifted across the table.
I peeled my scone off my knife and dropped it onto my plate, eyes firmly locked on the blueberries that oozed from the flaky dough. “Turns out I’m weak. The shadow thing knocked me on my ass.”
“I see,” Rourke said quietly.
“Look, I know you’re not happy unless you’re conquering your gifts, Norah, but it’s just going to take a little practice.” Liam rested a warm hand on my neck. “Remember when you first shot a bow and arrow? You were pretty much the worst shot I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying something.”
“I sucked at a bow and arrow because of a stupid necklace my mother gave me.”
“Sure, but—”
“So, I can’t use that as an excuse anymore.” I pointed at my neck. “I’m not wearing it. Rourke took it, remember? He probably added it to his collection of changeling necklaces.”
Confusion rippled across Liam’s face. “All I’m trying to say is that sometimes these things take time.”
“And sometimes, these things were never meant to be.” I pushed back my chair and stood from my table, dropping my cloth napkin onto my plate. “I’m not hungry. Come get me when it’s time for training.”
Twenty seconds after I’d shut the door behind me, a heavy knock sounded on the thick wood. With a heavy sigh, I stared at it. I didn’t know what had gotten into me. I was acting like a lunatic. The logical part of my brain was scolding me for my complete overreaction to Rourke’s words, but the emotional side was still keyed up and ready to go.
I just didn’t think I could face him. Not yet.
“Norah, it’s me.” Liam’s growl of a voice filtered in through the door.
In a moment, I’d crossed the room and let him inside. His face was a mask, a change from his usual demeanor. Liam was the kind of fae to wear his emotions all over his face. He never tried to contain them, nor put a shield over what he was feeling inside. That kind of raw passion took confidence and guts. It was something I couldn’t help but admire in him, something I wished I could be confident enough to do myself.
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, arching an eyebrow. “You going to tell me what that was all about?”
Rourke makes me feel like I’ve lost my damn mind.
How the hell could I possibly say that?
“I’m not sure,” I muttered, plopping back onto the soft bed to stare up at the sloping ceiling. “I guess I’m feeling a bit sensitive.”
“You don’t say,” he drawled. “Any idea what it was that sparked this feeling of sensitivity?”
I pursed my lips, silent.
“Now, I may be reaching here, but something tells me this has something to do with our good old friend, Rourke.”
“Maybe,” I said.
Liam eased onto the bed beside me and pushed a stray strand of hair away from my face. “What did he say to you, Norah? I can rough him up a bit, if you’d like.”
I sat up quickly, shaking my head. “No, please don’t do that.”
He winked, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
I rolled my eyes and plopped back down on the bed. “Right. You’re joking. I should have known.”
He poked me in the side. “I was just trying to get you to smile. It’s not like you to be so morose.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” I pushed back up to face him. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Ever since last night, it feels though my thoughts are clouded. There’s this horrible, unrelenting sadness I can’t just shake. It’s making me lose my mind.”
Liam’s eyes widened, and he quickly stood from the bed. “That’s it, Norah. That’s absolutely it.”
Frowning, I stared up at him. “You seem awfully excited about my weird mental state.”
“Because it’s the shadows, Norah.” He held out a hand. “Come on. We need to discuss this with the others.”
We gathered around the dining table, including Rourke. I still couldn’t look at him, too embarrassed by my earlier outburst. Once again, the food and cutlery had vanished back into the kitchen, replaced by the massive map and the wooden pieces. That stupid wooden block was right back on there again.
Phelan crossed his arms over his chest and gave me a blank look. “What’s this about then?”