Page 10 of The Red Woman and the White Bear

Aisling finished her tea and played with the lid of the cup, stuck inside her own mind. The two sat for a few moments in silence before she spoke again: “Maybe I should just go home.”

“You are home.”

“Back to the mainland, I mean. Away from all this.” She gestured with her cup at the island behind them. From somewhereobscured by the mist, the sound of the ferry’s foghorn reverberated around them. Its minor tone always sounded forlorn to her.

“To do what?” He was annoyed, but he wouldn’t show it. Nor would he yet say out loud what they both knew: it wouldn’t make a difference. He’d let her try feebly to convince herself otherwise first.

“I still have a life there. They’re not going to hold my job forever,” Aisling said.

He shrugged. “So quit.”

“And work here at the library for the rest of my life?”

“You’re happier here,” he pointed out.

Aisling countered: “I’min dangerhere.”

“You’d be in more danger if you ran away, of that much I’m sure. And so would I; so wouldallyour friends. So would Brook Isle.” Rodney took her empty cup and stacked it inside his own, then tossed them toward the trash can a few feet away. A perfect shot. “These things have a way of getting what they want.”

His words raised goosebumps down the backs of Aisling’s arms. “By these things, you mean the Fae?”

“I mean fate. Prophecies. Whatever you want to call it. The Red Woman is the Red Woman, regardless of where she lives. The city won’t protect you, and your distance won’t protect us.”

As the small boat drifted slowly into view, Rodney stood up off the bench and pulled Aisling to her feet. They’d sat in the damp air for long enough, and both of them thought better when they were in motion. Slowly, they made their way back in the direction of her apartment.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to try to get to the Seelie Court?” Aisling asked as they walked. “I’d imagine they’d be a bit more welcoming, given that I’m supposed to be on their side.”

“Yeah, I thought about that.”

“But?” she prompted.

Rodney scratched the back of his neck, self-conscious. “Well, I’m not exactly sure how to get there.”

“What? You’ve not been?” She was surprised; she had assumed Rodney would have more answers than he seemed to. He was her only direct line to that world and he was somehow proving to be nearly less helpful than the Shadowwood Mother had been.

He reached up to swat at a leaf overhead, showering them both with tiny droplets of dew. “From their side, sure. Not through their Thin Place. I don’t know where it is.”

“But you’ve visited the Unseelie Court?” Apprehension coiled in her stomach. The more they discussed this, the more real it became. The less she’d be able to convince herself it was a bad dream. The less likely she’d be to leave Brook Isle.

“I’ve been to a handful of events there,” he said.

She’d had just about enough of Fae talk—she was sick of trying to decipher their cryptic words and veiled subtext. “What events?”

Rodney shrugged. “A party or two. A few observances.” He steered them around a family to walk in the street and lowered his voice slightly. “Religious rites.”

“I didn’t know you were religious.” In fact, she didn’t know the Fae were religious at all.

“I’m not particularly, but I identify with some of their ideas. Either way, the ceremonies are always a good show.” He smirked a bit. Aisling wasn’t sure whether she liked the dark look that glinted in his eyes when he thought about what he’d witnessed there.

“Do you know where to find the Unseelie Thin Place?” she asked as directly as she could this time.

“Sure do,” he chirped.

She slapped his shoulder. “You’ve known where it was this whole time and you never told me?”

He rubbed it and looked at her sheepishly. “You never asked.”

“Of course I’ve asked, at least a hundred times.”

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