Page 63 of Fang & Fury

Isleen’s features tightened. “Prove it then.”

The challenge fell heavily in the cool night air.

Ailsa flinched.

Prove it? How?

Isleen moved then, rising smoothly to her feet. And as she did so, Ailsa caught a glimpse of the cloven hoofs beneath her skirts.

Her breathing caught. Would she develop those too if she stayed here?

She lifted her chin to find Isleen staring down at her, studying her. “You need some time alone,” she said softly. “Stay here a while.”

And with that, before Ailsa had a chance to say anything else, her mother turned and glided up the path, disappearing into the trees.

Darach watched Isleen depart. Crouched in the undergrowth between two hazels, he’d heard their entire conversation. He’d followed them out here, barefoot and quiet, tracking Ailsa and her mother through the maze of passageways. Ever since that corrupted tattoo, stealth came easier to him.

For once, the clag-doo gave him something he was grateful for.

The two of them had talked a long while, and the muscles in his thighs were starting to burn from remaining in this position. They’d had much to discuss, of course. Such conversations couldn’t be hurried.

However, as Isleen walked up the path, her dark gaze swung his way—and her nostrils flared.

Darach froze. Had she smelt him?

He held his breath, watching as Isleen’s attention shifted away from him, her expression inscrutable. A heartbeat later, she vanished into the trees.

On the banks of the burn below, Ailsa didn’t move.

Shifting into a cross-legged position, she turned to face the rushing waters of the burn.

And there she sat, staring at it.

Darach wanted to go to her, yet he hesitated.

Isleen had just given her daughter a test of sorts. He’d caught the glint in the bavaan’s eye as she’d turned toward the path. She thought Ailsa couldn’t prove she wasn’t one of them.

Darach’s jaw tightened. We’ll see about that.

Time drew out, and Ailsa didn’t move.

Eventually, he decided he’d waited long enough.

Standing up, he pushed through the undergrowth to the path. And this time, he didn’t bother to soften his steps.

Ailsa heard him, stiffening before casting a glance over her shoulder. Her breath gusted out of her. “Oh,” she murmured. “It’s you.”

Darach snorted. “I’ll try not to take offense at that.”

“Please don’t,” she replied, rubbing a tired hand over her face. “I’m just relieved. I thought Isleen had come back.”

“Fair enough,” he replied. He approached her then before lowering himself down onto the mossy riverbank next to her, seating himself cross-legged too.

Ailsa cut him a sidelong glance. “Did you hear any of that?”

“Most of it.”

She frowned. “Why did you follow me?”