Bending Nature to his will meant wrapping his magic around his body, holding it tight untilsomethingwove together and stuck. Willing himself to not appear as he truly was took effort, but he did it. Cillian didn’t need to look in a mirror to know he now appeared human because it felt as if his skin didn’t fit over his bones anymore, like clothes that were a size too small, constricting all his limbs.
He opened his eyes, finding Bran and Aisling standing next to him, Jupiter perched on Bran’s shoulder. Bran stared at him worriedly. “Are you okay?”
Cillian stepped away from Lady Fiadh’s hands. “Yeah.”
“You look like you again.”
He raised a hand to touch his ears, tracing the point there that he knew no one else could see. “I don’t feel like it.”
“Niamh says we’re ready to leave. She has our horses saddled.”
“Our legs are going to hurt.”
“I’ll take that discomfort if it means we get home.”
Cillian turned to look at Lady Fiadh. “We appreciate your hospitality.”
“It was my pleasure to help my prince,” Lady Fiadh said easily enough.
She didn’t beg him to stay; no argument left her lips. Verlin didn’t seem happy about any of their choices, but he, too, held his tongue as they crossed the courtyard for the horses. Cillian watched Verlin approach Seamus, reaching up to cover the other Fae’s mouth with his hand. He then kissed the back of it before pulling away, murmuring something in the Fae language Cillian didn’t understand.
“I thought they were mates?” Cillian said, curious at the strange way they said goodbye.
“Verlin is the Lord of Breath and Bone. His magic can steal the air from a person’s lungs with a single kiss. His mate is not exempt from that,” Niamh said.
Seamus pressed his and Verlin’s foreheads together with an intimacy that made Cillian feel as if he was spying on something sacred. He turned away, busying himself with Niamh’s instructions on how to swing himself onto the gray horse they’d given him. He was glad to see the animal wasn’t as large as the deer they’d seen before. Its tack was fairly elaborate, all black leather inset with jewels at the connecting points. The saddle was similar to an English one in style, and when Cillian swung himself up onto it, he was surprised that it fit him exactly and was comfortable. How long that comfort would last remained to be seen.
The Fae had also found horses sized for Bran and Aisling. While Bran looked a little uncomfortable in his, Aisling was excited, leaning forward to happily rub the horse’s neck. Her horse tossed its head and whickered happily, keeping its hooves planted on the flagstone. The Fae holding those reins spoke gently with Aisling, explaining how to issue orders to the horse using the reins and her knees. She’d changed out of her gown into soft gray pants and a pale, rose-pink blouse. Her knee-high dark brown boots would be good for riding.
“I will see you again, my prince,” Verlin said when he returned to Cillian’s side, a defiance in his tone that Cillian didn’t knowhow to address.
“Bran said time runs faster in our world than it does here. I’ll send Seamus back to you as quickly as we can. I don’t want either of you to be harmed by his absence,” Cillian said.
“Feel free to bring yourself with him.”
Verlin stepped back, bowed deeply, and retreated to where his mother stood across the courtyard. Niamh called out an order, and everyone on horseback clattered toward the exit. Once outside the castle, everyone ranged themselves down the road. Seamus rode beside Aisling, with Bran trailing behind her. Cillian was behind them both, and he wasn’t blind to the fact the three of them had been put in the middle of the group of armed Fae. He couldn’t find it comforting.
The ride to the forest was beautiful, at least. No pollution meant everything felt so much brighter, the color deeper everywhere he looked. The flowers they passed were more vibrant and the trees larger than anything found in the forest he patrolled back in Pelham. Cillian loved the outdoors, and part of him loved how the valley looked stretched out around them.
All that color faded when, hours later, the edges of the wyrding crept through the trees they rode through. The temperature dropped, sunlight growing weaker as white fog drifted through the air. Niamh whistled, drawing the attention of the lead rider. Cillian recognized Tev from before. The Fae tossed his reins to the rider closest to him before dismounting and jogging away between trees, a dagger clutched in one hand. The fog swallowed Tev up, and Cillian pulled on the reins to bring his horse to a stop.
“Will we need to follow the lights this time?” Cillian asked.
“No,” Niamh said.
“We didn’t come out here when we crossed over. Will we even end up back home?”
“There are only so many ways into the mortal world. We’ll take a shadow path back to the wyrding near Ainmire’s estate and slip through there.”
The last thing Cillian wanted to do was let Bran anywhere near Ainmire. “Will he know we’re in the wyrding?”
Niamh shook her head. “He shouldn’t unless he has scoutspatrolling the wyrding, but the last thing he should think is we would return to where you first came through.”
Cillian could only hope that was true. When Tev returned with confirmation he’d found a shadow path in the wyrding, Niamh dismounted and gestured for Cillian to do the same. Not everyone did so, and the small group who huddled with Tev at the front of the escort consisted of Cillian, Bran, Aisling, Niamh, and Seamus.
“The entrance is ahead, but there isn’t much coverage halfway to it. The light has moved on, but we should leave the horses behind,” Tev told Niamh.
“We’ll make the rest of the way on foot.” She turned and gave out an order Cillian didn’t understand, but the gist of it was clear enough when all but two of their escort turned their horses back around. At his curious look, Niamh nodded in their direction. “They’ll return to the castle. A few will stay behind for when Tev returns.”
