Page 35 of The Iron Hex

Rhona supposed she should be thankful a witch could only use the skills they were given at birth, and she supposed hard-to-piece-together visions were less damaging than, say, fire wielding.

“What is the vision you’re currently concerned about, so concerned that you’ve decided to trust me?”

“The witch in the prison,” Lady Maeve said, and Rhona broke out in a cold sweat. “I’ve had visions of her recently, her and whoever you captured last night—they look Corisian?”

No one was supposed to know about the witch in the cells, and no one outside of the Iron Retinue knew about the captive.

“Please look less surprised that I know about something I’m not supposed to. You’re going to need to get used to this,” Maeve said primly. “I need you to talk to the prisoner and the witch.”

“Right, like it’s that easy,” Rhona scoffed.

“You are quite literally a knight of the Iron Empire,” Lady Maeve said. “You’re the only person whocando that.”

Rhona thought for a moment.Couldshe get down there? Probably. “Let’s say I was able to get down there,” Rhona relented. “What would you need to know?”

“I know you can get down there, Rhona. I’ve seen it.” She tapped the side of her head, and Rhona shuddered involuntarily. “I need to know why they attacked the noble houses last night... and I need to know if Esther is okay, and what she knows. There’s someone in my visions about her that I can’t see. There’s something going on with her.”

“Esther? You... know the witch?” Rhona narrowed her eyes.

“Only by name,” Lady Maeve said a little too quickly. She was clearly keeping secrets.

“If I can get down there—”

“Whenyou get down there,” Maeve interrupted.

“I will ask some of the questions you’re hoping to get answers to,” Rhona continued, ignoring the uncomfortable interruption, and stood abruptly. She couldn’t stay in the open with Lady Maeve for too long. It was already risky for her to be speaking to the noblewoman alone, never mind sitting on a bench with her.

“Sounds splendid,” Lady Maeve said, brushing her hands on her skirt and leaning up as if to kiss Rhona on the cheek.

Rhona’s cheeks instantly flushed crimson and she froze, her muscles petrified. The expected kiss never came, but a whisper did.

“I’ll find you when we need to talk next,” Maeve whispered into Rhona’s ear.

Rhona watched her turn and parade toward the gardens, so effortlessly graceful, waving at each person she passed. Rhona wasn’t sure what she was getting herself into, but she was sure that she no longer had a choice; she was tied to Lady Maeve Heathecote in a way she had never expected.

20

Eira

At some point during her strangely comforting bath, Eira had asked Hugo to go downstairs and order them food, vowing that she was okay and that she would be down there with him soon. She dried off and got dressed, Pennyroyal watching her with concern as she laced up her new deep blue bodice. The fresh clothing didn’t fix the fact that she had lost almost everything important to her when she had left her home in Cilirien, and it certainly didn’t fix the strange way she had been feeling for days, but it did make her as happy as she could possibly be in that moment. There was something about a clean, new set of skirts that lifted Eira’s spirits, and she wondered how much of that was from her past and how much of it was from who she was now.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” she said to Penny, scratching in between the rabbit’s ears for a moment. Pennyroyal moved out of the way and stomped her back paws on the bed. “You were here too, with the princess and I. Do you remember? I don’t.”

Hugo may have thought it stupid or useless, but Eira and Pennyroyal did talk. The rabbit had her own way of communicating, and she was Eira’s closest confidante. Was it sad that a rabbit knew Eira’s secrets and deepest feelings? Maybe, but every witch needed a familiar.

Pennyroyal chomped and tittered, making a little noise in response. Eira took that as a yes, that the rabbit did remember their time in this city. It brought her a moment of comfort, knowing that at least one member of their group knew the history of their situation.

“You’re the best.” Eira scratched the rabbit’s back one more time before opening the door and heading downstairs for dinner. She looked around as she walked, trying to see if she could remember echoes of being here, but there was nothing. That locked door in her mind kept everything hidden from her.

Much to Eira’s concern, she couldn’t see Hugo as she headed downstairs, but the sweet barmaid from earlier pointed out the door when she noticed Eira looking around frantically.

“He went out there, darlin’,” she said, pointing with a cloth-covered hand as she polished steins behind the counter. “Your dinner will be out shortly, though, so don’t be too long!”

Eira nodded her thanks and quickly headed out the door, her boots clicking on the wooden floors as she swung the door open. She scanned the area. It was evening and the town was bustling, but she hoped desperately that she’d be able to find Hugo. She barely knew the man, but she also knew that he’d held her hand in that bath like he’d done it a million times before. She knew that he’d protected her from whatever that thing was the night before—and she knew that they were both being hunted. Eira also knew that he wouldn’t have stepped out for no reason, and it made her nervous about the Iron Retinue.

She walked over to Arthur’s stable, petting the horse’s snout as it dug through her bag, smelling the dried fruits she kept in there for Pennyroyal.

“You’re not supposed to beg,” she said, winking and pulling out a strip of dried apple, which Arthur happily took out of herhand. Eira spotted Hugo walking across the town square, one hand nonchalantly in his pocket, and the other clutching what looked like a rolled piece of paper.