I needed to send Samson’s amulet to the fae realm, but I chose this spot on purpose, hoping the glaistigs would answer my warning call.
“I come with an invitation,” I say carefully, “as representative of the queen of humans of this land.” Mary did not extend the invitation herself, but she doesn’t need to know what I’m doing.
“Humans do not typically invite us to anything outside war.” Her voice is soft but clear, like the icy water still wrapping around my ankles.
“War may be coming,” I say. “The human queen celebrates the birth of her child, but her husband works with the Red Caps.”
“Traitor.” The word hisses from all the glaistigs, so low that their stomping hooves almost drown out the sound.
“The wall holds,” I clarify, “but he has eyes on human thrones and enough fae blood to align with the Red Caps. He’s used a weapon of theirs before, and more have infiltrated.”
“We are ready.” The Green Lady’s shoulders roll back, her chin tilting up, a sunbeam sliced in two by her horn.
I have no doubt the glaistigs are ready. Their spears and their magic are always ready. It doesn’t matter to them that the Red Caps have been absent from Scotland for a millennia; that is just a wink to the fae.
Another dark reminder that itispossible for the High Blade to be behind all this…
“The human queen has hired men to dress in costume for the celebration in honor of her son,” I say.
The Green Lady’s eyes narrow, her slitted pupils like daggers.
I speak rapidly. “They do not mean to make a mockery of your kind.” Mary has hired some to dress as satyrs. She knows the Greek myths better than her own, but that is, perhaps, because the glaistigs prefer to be forgotten.
“It will suit,” the Green Lady allows. “We can weave into the shadows and among the humans without being noticed.”
“That is my hope,” I say. The glaistigs will add a layer of protection.
The Green Lady looks to the other glaistigs. Each nods to her slowly, confirming they will help.
“Any traitor we see, we kill,” the Green Lady says, turning to me. “Your kind likes…” She waves her hand, looking for the word. “Trials. Second chances. We do not abide by such customs.”
I look her in her eyes. “I know.”
16
Samson
I lean against the wall in the stables, staring at the horses, my arms folded tight. Bags sit at my feet, and I’ve got my cloak around my shoulders, all set to leave.
But I’ve not gotten a horse yet. Or approached Callum, who’s forking hay in the corner, to ask him if there’s anyone heading south I can catch a ride with.
I’m just standing here, jaw working, eyes blurring from lack of sleep, feeling the sunrays creep higher and higher until the light reaches long fingers through the stable door and touches my boots.
This castle is a place of horrors.
Those little hairy creatures areeverywhere. Everywhere cats were at least, cleaning and caring and mending, generally leaving people alone.
They glared at me as I passed through the corridors. They know the ultimatum Alyth gave me, and I did my best to get out early this morning, but I lingered, kept getting distracted by whether I should stay and everything I’ve learned, and—
And there are other creatures too. Things that I swear were normal only yesterday. Might’ve been bugs flying about, but they’re little people-type beings with wings—damned fairies? No. No. That’s mad.
And there was something off in the distance, spotted it out the window, on the hill. Looked like a goat on two legs?
There are more of those tendrils of color in the air too, less harsh than what was around Alyth, gentle pulses of softest blue and green and pink clustered around each of these creatures.
And the sky. The sky’s wrong. It’s got a sheen over it, like oil gathered on water, ripples and waves of rainbow hues that no one else seems to see.
That necklace kept me from seeing these things. Is it just here, in Scotland? Because I had no bloody necklace in London and never saw a lick of anything bizarre outside the damn fae magic items Cecil had me getting.
