Page 46 of The Red Woman and the White Bear

Aisling cracked the door only as far as the chain lock would allow. “You didn’t bring them here, did you?” So far, Rodney was the only faerie who knew where she lived, and she hoped to keep it that way. When he shook his head, she shut the door, slid the lock, then pulled it open wide.

“Thanks,” he said with a grin. Rodney handed Aisling a cup and followed her inside to the living room where Briar was sprawled on the rug. He regarded Rodney lazily from this position, tail thumping on the ground. “Hello to you, too,” Rodney acknowledged dryly.

While Rodney fell back onto Aisling’s sofa and stretched out his long legs, she stood still only halfway into the room. “So?”

“So,” he emphasized, “come sit down and drink your tea, and I’ll tell you what I’ve been working on.”

She did so begrudgingly, unconvinced that some manner of Fae wasn’t about to burst through her door or clamber out of the backpack he’d dropped beside his shoes on the mat. Briar rolled over to lay his head on her feet. He’d been stuck to her like glue since she’d returned from the Wild, perfectly content to spend the last two days in bed with her.

Despite her best efforts to get back onto a normal sleep schedule, Aisling’s head felt fuzzy and clouded. Between the swirling, vicious thoughts and the constant churning in her stomach, she hadn’t yet managed it. She’d lie awake, tossing and turning throughout most of the night, then sleep away most of the day. She’d been able to reclaim her afternoons, if only to walk with Briar down to the shore and listen to the sea. Once, she would have goneto the forest to clear her head. She couldn’t even bring herself to look towards the tree line now.

Rodney’s eyes shone with excitement. She’d humor him for now. “Fine, I’ll bite. What have you been working on?”

“What would you say if I told you that I could get you into the Seelie Court tomorrow?” He took a sip from his cup. The smug expression he wore nearly made Aisling want to slap him all over again.

“I would say, why don’t we just go now and get it over with?” It came out harsher than she meant it to, but the sentiment underlying her words wasn’t one she could hide. She did want to get this over with—all of it—so that she could return to her life and try to pretend that none of this had ever happened. She could fulfill whatever was needed from her as the subject of the prophecy and move on.

Rodney rolled his eyes. “Aren’t you even a little curious what I was doing while you were gone?”

“Besides not trying to get me out?” she shot back. Rodney winced and the hurt in his eyes weakened her resolve. He felt guilty; she knew he did. In a gesture of goodwill, Aisling settled back on the couch and took a sip of her tea. “Tell me.”

“I found the way in. It took a while to convince someone to tell me where to find the Thin Place, and I had to make some bargains that I’m…less than proud of.” He rubbed his neck. When he caught Aisling’s warning glare, he added quickly, “None that will come back on you. I swear. But I managed to work my way down the line to Ivran.”

“Ivran?”

“Ivran knows the dryads who watch over their Thin Place. I doubt they are as close as he likes to claim, but I paid a handsome price for him to broker an introduction.” Aisling pictured storybooks with illustrations of leafy, treelike women dancing in meadows and groves. That they, too, could be right here on Brook Isle would have seemed unbelievable just weeks ago.

“Where is the Seelie Thin Place?” She remembered this time to ask the question as specifically as she could. Rodney smiled in approval.

“Do you remember that hike Lida dragged us out on a few years back, up to the viewpoint at the top of the hill on the north side of the island? When it rained the whole time?”

“And you slid halfway down the hill in the mud? I remember.” It had been the last hike she’d been able to convince him to join her and her friends on. “There was a bench at the top, I think.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’d prefer not to revisit that particular part of the memory. But beyond the viewpoint, back up the hill a bit, there were those two old hawthorn trees.”

Aisling frowned, trying to imagine them there. She couldn’t call them to mind, only the way the ocean looked from that bench on the cliffside. The water was choppy that day, all whitecapped waves and roiling sea foam. “I don’t think I noticed them.”

“It’s just there, between the two. I guess they bank on people being so distracted by the view that they don’t wander back there much.” He shrugged, then set his empty cup on the floor. “Either way, Ivran said he’d meet us at the overlook tomorrow morning and take you through.”

She bristled at that. She wasn’t going into the Wild alone; not again. “Takeusthrough,” she corrected pointedly. “You’re sure as hell not getting out of it. You’re coming with me.”

“I figured you might say that.” Rodney stretched, then settled deeper into the cushions. Drawing out Aisling’s anticipation to an annoying degree. “I’ve already requested time off work.”

The wind was biting as the pair climbed the trail. There were steps, but they were steep and slick and Rodney complained the entire way up that he hadn’t worn the right shoes. Aisling had cautioned him earlier that morning when he picked her up that even his work boots would have been a wiser choice than the flat sneakers he’d settled for, but he’d refused to return to the trailer to make the switch. Evidently, the strenuous hike uphill had faded from his memory.

Briar was as unbothered by the cold as he was by the grade of the trail, so Aisling looped his leash around her waist and let him pull her along. She’d deliberated most of the night about bringing him, but in the end, she hadn’t been able to leave him behind. She needed him to be her anchor. She was nervous; more nervous even than she had been entering the Undercastle for the first time on Nocturne. She’d been naïve then. Now, she knew just what kind of trouble could await her through the Veil.

“I’m curious about something,” Aisling panted. The wind whipped her hair across her face, prompting her toreach back and secure the end of her ponytail under her jacket collar. “Why did Lyre owe you a favor in the first place?”

Rodney was stopped in the middle of the trail. Bent over, hands on his knees, catching his breath for the tenth time. He looked up at Aisling, squinting against the sea salt that somehow still stung even as high up as they were. “What?”

“I asked him whether you were trying to get me out, and he said that he didn’t owe you that big of a favor.”

Still breathless, he waved a hand dismissively. “He just likes me to keep my ear to the ground at events like Nocturne and such. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a bit less conspicuous than he and those other robed zealots.”

Aisling’s skin prickled uncomfortably when she recalled how Lyre’s yellow eyes flashed in the low light. “I’m not sure I like Lyre.”

Rodney laughed, finally able to stand upright again. “No one really likes Lyre, Ash, but you can’t deny that he’s useful. He’s a good ally to keep in your corner.”

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