“Once we get eyes on her, I can use my shadows to watch her and learn her schedule so we may determine the best opportunity,” he reassured me.
“As long as we do not get close to Riordan. This is his kingdom, and he might be able to sense our power here. Without your ability to portal home, we could not escape from him if he discovered us,” I reminded Ciaran who grunted in acknowledgment of my point.
“You will use the Tithriall if the worst should happen, and I will portal back to your tree. I only ask that you take the time to at least open it for me from the other side,” Ciaran snarked before he sipped his ale.
“I think I can manage,” I assured him as my attention drifted back to the half-naked, fire-wielding fey acrobats. They were performing as part of a procession that moved down the street past the patio where we sat. As the humid wind picked up, I could just catch the barest hint of the fish market up the river.
I wanted Sage back now. I did not want to spend days or even weeks in reconnaissance, but I knew that Ciaran was right. We needed to be patient and wait for the right opportunity to snatch Amira.
Gods, I was going to see her again so soon. I couldn’t help but wonder what she would say. Whatcouldshe say? I supposed I’d know if I read her letter before we met.
“Did you live in this city?” Ciaran asked unexpectedly, and I glanced over to see his gaze was on a pretty female in the fiery procession.
“No. I lived in the forest like most dryads, but I came into the city sometimes. It is beautiful, but the longer you are here, the more you start to see the cracks,” I admitted, gesturing toward a dark alleyway.
Ciaran pulled his gaze away from the female who had noticed him in return and took note of the dirty children crouching against the bricks. They stayed just out of the light from the lanterns until a drunk male tripped and fell on his face on the cobblestones. With quick little feet and hands they scurried over to rummage through his pockets for his coin purse and a pretty dagger. They even took his earrings as he slurred and tried to slap uselessly at them. The oldest boy was missing a hand, which was a common punishment for theft. I doubted he had another option.
Ciaran’s jaw tightened as he watched them scampering back into the dark while the drunkard thrashed and wailed his protests after them.
“I can see that,” he muttered and took a deep drink of his apple-and-cinnamon-scented ale.
“Are you going to talk to the dancer?” I asked him in order to redirect him toward more pleasant amusements. “Seems like she might be hoping for your attention.”
Ciaran followed my nod toward the pretty blonde and her companions who had all paused in their fire-wielding revelry for a drink at our bar. She glanced over her bare shoulder and gavehim a smile as their gazes met again.
Ciaran finished his drink and glanced over at mine to see how I was faring. “Another?” he asked, but I shook my head quickly, barely repressing a knowing snicker.
“Just go,” I invited him, and he winked at me in thanks before turning to the dancer whose gaze trailed over him appreciatively as he walked toward her.
At least one of us would have a good night…
I checked on him a few times, but he seemed to be hitting it off well with the pretty dancer. His smiles were so easy and flirty, he watched her mouth while she spoke, and casually twirled his finger around her loosened hair. And unsurprisingly, it was not long before she was taking his hand and dragging him toward the street.
He glanced over at me to ensure I saw him leaving.
“Do not get robbed and left in the gutter,” I mouthed at him deliberately slowly. He frowned just before they both disappeared around the corner of the building, and I was not sure if he had understood or not.
Shaking my head, I took my time finishing my drink and got another while waiting for him. It had been some time since he had gone, so I was expecting him to return at any moment when a flash of flowered antlers made me whirl around in horror.
Sure enough, there were dryads entering the bar patio. Fourmaledryads…
I froze, my body tensing with dread when one of their emerald gazes landed on me. He tilted his head curiously, his eyes widening as if he were as surprised by the sight of me as I was at the sight of him. And I did not mean to betray such a visceral reaction, but my ears flattened and my upper lip curled in a warning snarl at him.
Thankfully, he averted his gaze, and his ears gave a meek flicker backward that surprised me as he continued to the bar where his companions were ordering drinks.
They looked like Summer fey with antlers wreathed instunning flowers, and foliage was growing from their skin to cover their lower bodies. One of them even sported a pair of dragonfly wings that were similar to what I often grew from my back. Their scant coverings exposed brown skin and powerful physiques, which were drawing plenty of attention from nearby fey. Especially since they were all so undeniably handsome and jubilant as they laughed. They seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves as they claimed a table across the patio. I judged them to be younger than me, most likely still in their first century.
But they were not from the Rowan Wood. My people practiced stoicism while these males were all flirtatious smiles and playful shoves as they goaded one another. And now that I allowed myself to study them, I noticed other differences like how they seemed to prefer to keep their hair short. It was also curly, and two of the males, including the one with the conjured wings, had dark hair that was uncharacteristic of my people.
I would have to get closer to taste their magic to know for sure, but I had no intentions of doing that. I needed to leave before they decided to wander over and investigate. Aside from Aodhan, I’d never seen another dryad outside Sumarra before, so it was likely a first for them as well. They would undoubtedly be curious about me.
As suspected, I glanced discreetly over to find the one with emerald eyes was looking at me again. He lowered his head to break our staring and elbowed his companion before whispering. It was not long before, one by one, every pair of eyes at their table was on me with their ears all perked up in curiosity.
I rose, the impulse to flee from them an urgent thrum in my blood that made me clumsy as I darted for the gate of the patio. The bar had gotten much busier, the dryads had claimed the last of the tables, so I was hard pressed to weave quickly through all the bodies toward the exit.
A very tall and very broad male form slipped in front of me just before I reached the street, and I looked up into thoseemerald eyes under dark curls. Sensing his friend on my right, I turned and bore my teeth up at the curly-haired blond who shifted back with lowered ears.
“You are one of the Ruadhán,” stated the dark-haired dryad in front of me with a sickeningly familiar accent.
