Page 51 of The Court the Fae Forgot
It was impossible not to feel a little guilty for forcing us out into the open the way I had, after all of my guardians’ care. But I couldn’t spend another night there at the edge of the Wildness.
Shiel had been right about that, at least. The Wildness had gotten my attention already, and now, it was almost impossible to resist it. Actually impossible, since it had reached me even in my dreams, beckoned to me when I was at my most vulnerable—and more than that, it had known to do it when I was alone for the first time.
I’d gotten lucky the first time. I couldn’t count on Zev, or anyone else, to save me if something like that happened again.
Now that the promise of a hot meal and a warm bed was so close within my grasp, too, I didn’t think I’d have the strength to walk on through the night. Just the idea of curling up on the hard ground, nothing but a thin bedroll to separate me from the grass and dirt and roots along the edges of the road, made me want to cry. That might have been the end of me, too. One more day spent without actual sleep was just as likely to break me as the Wildness.
Which was why, when Shiel marched out of the fourth inn in a row only to announce to us that there were no rooms left, I just about lost it.
It was on the far end of the city, where the walls no longer even bothered to encircle the run-down streets, where there were more brothels than there were shops. The forest encroached on one side, the only barrier between this city and whatever foes they might face.
Even when it was, in its own way, a foe itself.
He must have seen the desperation on my face, because before I could so much as let out a sigh of frustration, he marched right up to me, once again standing so close that I could almost make out the furious beating of his own heart. He held up one finger between us, pointing it determinedly at the stars overhead.
“You think you’re the only stubborn one between us?” he asked. His head turned away, eyes searching the streets quickly emptying as the night wore on. “You’ll have your bed, Aurra. I promise you that.”
No sooner had he finished speaking the words then he immediately turned heel and stormed back into the inn. A long, long moment later he returned, metal glinting in his hand.
“One room,” he growled, slamming the key into Zev’s hand. He stomped past the rest of us, giving me no chance to make an attempt at offering my thanks. “I’ll be pitching a tent outside for the night.”
“But—” I found myself stumbling toward him, my hand reaching out as if I could stop him if I tried.
He looked at me with such utter exasperation then, I was surprised he didn’t try to strangle me on the spot.
“But … but will you be safe out here, on your own?”
It wasn’t just the sight of the dark forest that made my heart quicken, it was the city too. We were on the edge of it now, but we’d roamed the streets long enough for news of the fae’s presence, of our presence, to surely have begun to spread. Shiel’s warning to me had stuck. Surely, it wasn’t just me the humans would want to make an example of. If they couldn’t have me, they’d take any fae. Especially in a place like this, where men’s hearts were corrupted even more by greed and a fate that had been as unkind to them as it had once been to me.
Maybe still was.
Shiel stared at me for a long moment, unspeaking, maybeunableto speak. Suddenly, the quiet of the night was pierced as he threw back his head and this time laughed instead of roared, his shoulders shaking until I was almost certain I saw the glitter of tears gathering at the inner corners of his eyes.
“Aurra, go sleep. Go find your warm bed and your hay-stuffed mattress. The last thing you need to worry about is me.”
Heat engulfedme the moment we stepped into the crowded tavern that wrapped around the bottom level of the inn. The old wooden walls were stained with the years of heavy smoke that hung in the air, the floors sticky beneath every step that I took, but I didn’t care. Relief washed over me the moment the door shut behind the three of us, the forest and its special brand of darkness no longer reaching out to me.
So relieved was I that I didn’t notice the way the loud drone of voices died out, not until I’d turned back to see Zev’s hand already settled on the handle of his blade. All around us, the lively tavern had turned into a mausoleum of faces staring back at us. No one moved, no one daring to so much as breathe.
No one, of course, except Finch.
He patted Zev on the arm and strode forward, straight to the bar, where he loudly ordered three large mugs of ale. The innkeeper reluctantly reached for the glasses, the expression on his face the least welcoming of all—right up until Finch produced the gold he planned to pay for it.
Coin was, after all, the great equalizer.
Especially fae gold.
It wasn’t until we found a dark, cramped corner booth and slid into its seats that the voices and music of the tavern began to slowly fill the deafening silence. Faces turned away from us one by one until we were all but forgotten, the novelty of us wearing away in the thick haze of smoke.
Finch and Zev didn’t seem at all phased as the tables nearest us emptied, some of the patrons leaving entirely, while others scuttled to crowd tables at the far reaches of the room. I tried my best to ignore the heavy weight of eyes still watching us, choosing instead to sink down into my seat until the mug of ale that Finch had placed in front of me was practically level with my eyes.
My fae guardians, even Zev, whose hand never left its place on the hilt of his sword, settled into their own kind of ease. They were used to this kind of treatment, I realized, even as Shiel had known to press the innkeeper a second time for a room that magically became available.
The music, a jarring lilt of lute and flute, was soon loud enough to allow us to speak freely without worry of being overheard. There wasn’t much worry of that anyway, not when there was a wide berth of empty tables around us now.
Zev and Finch might have been used to the way others looked at him, but I was not. Perhaps it was the ale, the pints before the both of them already nearly empty, that gave them the courage, but I couldn’t stop the wheels from turning in my mind. I might be inside, encased in four walls, but I couldn’t shake the dread that had been following me for so long now.
I tried to take a sip of the ale but instantly regretted it. It was sobitter.I’d never tasted anything like it. If Finch and Zev weren’t already waving down a bar maid to refill their glasses, I would have thought it was poisoned.
