You should know by now that I can’t leave anything alone. I’ll pry it out of you somehow.”
Deep within, something dark stirred. A sleeping giant sensing change in the air, like a forgotten heartbeat, faint but still alive, beginning to resurface. It was something I hadn’t felt, hadn’t allowed myself to feel, in years. The part of me that was pure Unseelie, pure hate and darkness and bloodlust. I lost myself to it once, the day Ariel a died. I became something consumed by rage, filled with a black hatred that turned me against my closest friend. I thought I’d buried it when I froze out my emotions, training myself to become numb, to feel nothing.
I could feel it in me now, an old madness, an ancient darkness rising to the surface, filling me with anger. And hate. Wounds that had never really closed, tearing open again, seeping poison into my heart. It disturbed me, and I shoved it down, back into the blackness it had come from. But I could still feel it, pulsing and bubbling just below the surface.
Directed solely at Puck, who was, of course, still talking.
51/387
“You know, it’s not healthy to keep things bottled up, prince. The whole brooding thing is really overrated. So, come on, out with it.
What’s bothering
—”
“I said—” Whirling abruptly, I came face-to-face with Puck, close enough to see my ref lection in his startled green eyes. “Leave it alone, Puck.”
For all his buffoonery, Robin Goodfel ow was no fool. We’d known each other a long time, both as friends and rivals, and he knew me better than anyone, sometimes better than I knew myself. The irreverent smirk vanished, and his eyes became hard as stone. We stared at each other, inches apart, while the wind picked up and howled around us, stirring up a cyclone of leaves and dust.
“Having second thoughts?” Puck’s voice was soft and dangerous, a far cry from his normal f lippancy. “I thought we’d put this behind us for now.”
“Never,” I said, matching his stare. “I can’t ever take it back, Goodfel ow. I’m still going to kill you. I swore to her I would.” Lightning f lickered and thunder rumbled in the distance as we faced each other with narrowed eyes. “One day,” I said softly. “One day you’ll look up, and I’ll be there. That’s the only ending for us. Don’t ever forget.” Puck slowly cocked his head, regarding me intently. “Is this Ash talking? Or the oath?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I stepped back, holding his gaze, unwilling to turn my back on him. “It can never be the same, Puck. Don’t fool yourself into thinking that it is.”
52/387
“I’ve never forgotten, prince.” Puck watched me with solemn eyes glowing green in the sudden darkness. Lightning f lashed through the trees again, and thunder growled an answer. Puck’s next words were nearly lost in the wind. “You’re not the only one with regrets.” I turned and walked away from him, feeling cold and empty, the darkness coiling around my heart. At the bottom of the slope, Grimalkin sat on a stump, tail curled over his feet, watching us with unblinking golden eyes.
We found a cave, or rather, an annoyed, impatient Grimalkin led us to a cave, seconds before the sky opened up and the rain poured down.
As the light rapidly disappeared, I left Puck poking the fire and retreated to a dark corner. Sitting with my back against the wall, I pulled one knee to my chest and glowered into the distant f lames.
“And so it begins.”
Grimalkin appeared beside me, seated on a rock, watching Puck tend the campfire. The f lames cast a burning orange halo around the cat. I gave him a sideways glance, but he didn’t return it. “What do you mean?”
“I warned you this was no simple quest. I told you before, you and Goodfel ow have no idea what lies ahead.” He twitched an ear and shifted on the rock, still watching the fire. “You feel it, do you not? The anger. The darkness.” I blinked in surprise, but Grimalkin paid no heed. “It will only get worse the farther we go.”
“Where are we going?” I asked softly. A sudden hiss from the campfire showed Puck hanging a skinned rabbit over the f lames. Where he’d gotten it, I didn’t even want to guess, and I turned back to Grimalkin.
“I know we’re going to the seer, but you still haven’t told us where.” 53/387
The cait sith pretended not to hear. Yawning, he stretched languidly, raking his claws over the stones, and trotted off to oversee dinner preparations.
Outside, the storm howled and raged, bending trees and blowing rain at a sharp angle across the mouth of the cave. The fire crackled cheerfully, licking at the rabbit carcass, and the smell of roasted meat began to fill the chamber.
And yet, something wasn’t right.
I rose and wandered to the cave mouth, gazing out at the storm. Wind tugged at me, spattering my face with raindrops. Beyond the lip of the cavern, rain skittered over the ground in waves, like silver curtains tossed by the wind.