Page 59 of The Red Woman and the White Bear

“Rodney?”

He hummed, nodding without glancing up from the book in front of him. Aisling stood, cradling the open tome, and carried it to the table. She laid it atop Rodney’s book and he cast her an irritated glare.

“I was in the middle of reading. What is this?” His brow furrowed and he leaned in closer to take in the tiny, intricate details of the illustration.

“I’m not sure exactly.” She ran a finger over the dark, star-speckled sky. “Is that meant to be Aethar?”

Rodney shook his head. “Aethar is only ever depicted as a being of light. She’d never be drawn in darkness like this.”

“Can you read any of the text?” she asked.

“Give me a minute, I’ll do my best.” He shooed her away. Impatient, Aisling moved around the table to pace back and forth. “Could you not?” Rodney demanded irritably after she’d made several passes.

Aisling rolled her eyes and instead pushed a stack of books out of the way and sat on the edge of the table. She gave him a minute. Then two. Then three. Finally, as she was about to ask him for a progress report, Rodney swore under his breath.

“What is it?” She hopped off the table and went back to hover at his shoulder.

“There were three courts. Look.” He pointed toward the bottom third. “This is the Unseelie Court.” He moved his finger up to the center. “This is the Seelie Court. And here at the top is the third court.”

“What do you mean? I’ve never heard of a third court.” Aisling was certainly no expert, but even in the human realm she’d been able to find mention of the Seelie and Unseelie Courts. They were few and far between and passed off always as myths, but they existed nonetheless.

“Neither have I,” Rodney admitted. “But this,” he underlined a bit of text with his thumb, “seems pretty clear.”

“What was it called?” She squinted at the letters as though a narrowed field of vision would somehow make them intelligible.

He scratched his head, thinking for a moment. “There aren’t really words in English to translate directly. The closest, I think, would be ‘the Silver Saints.’”

“The Silver Saints,” Aisling repeated. “They’re Fae? What else does it say about them?”

“They’re Fae, but old. Likeoldold. All this says is that they’ve not been seen since the early days when the courtswere formed.” He flipped through several more pages, scanning for their name again, but came up empty.

“There was something the sidhe wanted us to find in there,” Aisling nodded at the book.

“It talks about them as though they’re legend.” Rodney lifted the page from the binding to examine it again, the tip of his nose almost brushing the paper, then said again, “I’ve never heard of them before.”

Aisling sighed, disappointment weighing down her shoulders. “So all we have is a pretty drawing and a Fae folktale.”

“Go on back to your pile, Ash. I’ll keep reading. We’re not out of time.” Rodney tried his best to sound upbeat, but he was losing faith and stamina just as quickly.

But theywereout of time, very nearly. It was difficult to tell how much had passed before the sidhe returned; it felt like she’d only just left Aisling at the door with that ancient text in her arms. This time, Aisling watched the magic flare and fade as the sidhe locked the archives behind them. It stung her eyes, but it was beautiful.

“Have you found what you were looking for?” She asked, the same as she had the day before.

“I’m not sure,” Aisling answered truthfully. Dejectedly.

“I’d imagine you have.” Something deep and knowing was hidden in her sing-song tone.

“But—” Aisling’s protest was cut short when the sidhe left them at the bottom of the stairs in the nave.

Before she ascended, she turned back to say, “There is nothing left here for you to find.”

The way she said it—sparkling eyes boring into Aisling’s, the finality in her tone—somehow settled the restlessness in her chest.

Wind battered the exterior of the palace, sighing and sighing. The unforeseen storm rolled in quickly; Rodney and Aisling barely made it back in time to avoid the rain that followed the clouds. Aisling had sensed it coming the moment they’d stepped out of Solanthis, the taste of petrichor thick in her mouth, but even she was surprised by its strength. The dark clouds seemed incongruous with the bright flowers and stark white of the palace as they rode up onto the lawn.

“Something has to keep the grass green,” Rodney commented. Aisling shivered, but not from the chill of the storm. It was the soft, almost inaudible growl of one of the manticores as they passed between that drew goosebumps down her arms.

Niamh met the pair in the foyer this time and made it clear that Laure was waiting for Aisling alone. Aisling sent Rodney off to take care of Briar and followed Niamh in the opposite direction.

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