Page 62 of The Red Woman and the White Bear

“Here!” A bush rustled when Ivran raised a thin arm to wave over its branches. Rodney and Aisling crouched behind it alongside the small faerie. Aisling kept both arms looped around Briar’s neck for her own comfort more than his.

“How will we know when it’s clear?” she whispered. She had to squint now to see more than a few yards ahead. She tightened her grip on Briar.

“The Thin Place is just in that direction.” Ivran pointed to their right. “It isn’t far. We’ll go once we hear one of the bottles break; that’s the signal we agreed on.”

Rodney snorted. “Classy.”

The group waited in silence and painful anticipation. Aisling’s knees ached from holding the crouched position and her feet werebeginning to tingle, but she was afraid to shift and disrupt the quiet that had settled around them. Ivran and Rodney were both still as statues in the way only Fae could manage. Even beneath his heavy glamour, Rodney could remain motionless for hours, with only the shallow rise and fall of his chest to betray that he was a living thing.

All of them startled when the calm was abruptly shattered by the sound of glass splintering against stone. The raised voices that followed were closer to their hiding spot than Aisling would have liked.

“Let’s go,” Ivran hissed. Gripping Briar’s leash in one hand and a fistful of Rodney’s shirt in her other, Aisling let the faeries lead her swiftly through the darkness. The Veil glimmered before them, a swirling sheen of silver-blue magic that eddied and undulated despite the stillness of the night. They were flying now, closing the distance faster and faster and faster until Aisling felt the magic’s caress against her cheeks, and then the chill of frost-heavy grass. Only Briar had managed to stay on his feet; Ivran and Rodney, too, were lying on the ground beside her.

Aisling looked up in time to see the dryads drop their arms, closing the Veil and taking with it the soft glow that had illuminated their landing. But she smelled the salt, and she heard the waves. They sounded like a favorite song. She was home.

She stayed like that, on her back in the grass, for a minute longer. It was cold and the melting frost beneath her was soaking through her jacket, but she allowed herself that moment of peace while her pulse slowed and her breathingcalmed.

When Ivran let out a triumphant whoop, she raised up onto one elbow. He was vibrating with excitement, eyes wide and limbs jittery.

“That was great fun!” he exclaimed.

Rodney rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the smirk that tugged at his lips. He’d enjoyed it too: the rush. “I wouldn’t saygreatfun.”

“Well next time, you two can go without me. I’m perfectly happy to stay right here.” Aisling fell back down into the grass again and stared up at the stars. Familiar stars; her stars. Her sky. It was clear tonight, a deep bruise-dark purple smattered with those tiny, glittering flecks. She could never see enough of them in the city. In the Wild, with no light pollution at all, it seemed like there were almost too many. But here over Brook Isle, the sky held just the right amount.

The trudge back down to Rodney’s car, still parked just beyond the trailhead, was wet and slippery and took them far longer than the hike up had. Both still ached from two days of climbing the Solanthis steps. Once they’d settled into their seats and turned on the noisy heater, Rodney dug in his pocket then wordlessly tucked something into Aisling’s palm. She had to switch on the overhead light to see that it was a tiny square of folded paper, yellowed and soft with age. Carefully, she unfolded it to find the illustration of the three Fae courts from the book in the archives.

“When did you take this?” she gasped. She laid it out on the dash and pressed it flat, smoothing the creases.

Rodney shrugged and grinned sheepishly. “Before we left. I didn’t want you to come away empty-handed.”

Throwing off her seatbelt, Aisling launched herself across the center console to throw her arms around Rodney’s shoulders. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“It’s your choice what we do next, Ash. If you want to leave, we’ll leave.” Rodney held her tightly. Fiercely. He was a life raft cast out into the storm, and she thought that there wasn’t nearly enough space inside of her to fit the gratitude she felt for him then.

“For right now, I really just want to go home and take a shower.” Aisling shifted back into her seat and reached into the back to dig her fingers into Briar’s fur.

“We should probably avoid the trailer,” Rodney said, a bit sullen as he put the car in gear and drove in the direction of town. “I have clothes at your apartment, don’t I?”

“I think so. And you can take the bed, the sheets are clean.” She didn’t mind when he didn’t argue. Though her couch was comfortable enough, Aisling was sure she was tired enough to fall asleep almost anywhere.

But as they pulled up to the front of her building, a chill slid down her spine, winding around each vertebra like those creeping vines that strangled the columns in Solanthis. She was back on edge, on her guard. The disquietude had followed her from the Seelie Court and now trailed behind her all the way up the stairs and into her apartment. It lessened some once she’d turned on all the lights and ensured that nothing seemed out of place, but the promise of sleep now seemed a bit further off than it had before.

Showered, changed, and fed, Aisling and Rodney battled their exhaustion side by side on the couch. He felt that samelingering unease; she could tell by the way he jerked himself awake each time his head lolled to one side. The first morning ferry wouldn’t leave for hours yet, but Aisling already had a bag for herself and a bag for Briar packed and waiting by the front door. At dawn, they’d all three walk down to the dock and make their way to the city. They’d be safe there, Aisling thought. They had to be. And Brook Isle would be fine.

It was Briar who reacted to the sound first, followed close after by Rodney. It took Aisling several seconds to register what they’d heard: soft, furtive footsteps ascending the wooden stairs. Then, a knock on the door.

“How did you—” The rest of Aisling’s words caught in her tightening throat. Briar’s low growl tore through the space her silence left as he pressed himself to her hip, but the two males standing before them didn’t flinch.

Lyre’s lips curled into a sly smile and his yellow eyes glinted. “I told you once about my connections. Did you think that claim false?”

He stood in the hallway outside of her apartment, clad in all black with a cloak that would barely have passed for human attire, especially on Brook Isle. A tall faerie with soft, dark curls and a hard expression stood beside him, who Aisling recognized as Kael’s Captain of the Guard.Raif,she recalled.He, too, had made a poor attempt to dress in human clothing. She was grateful that they’d shown up in the dead of night.

“Enough, Prelate,” Raif hissed, then turned his attention to Aisling. “You are needed at the Undercastle.”

When Raif and Lyre moved forward, crossing the threshold into Aisling’s apartment, Rodney stepped in front of her. “Leave,” he said. His menacing tone was incongruous with his unthreatening appearance. Deliriously tired, Aisling almost laughed at the contrast.

“Quiet, Veilwalker. This does not concern you.” Raif’s stare never strayed from Aisling even as he snapped at Rodney.

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