The sting of his betrayal, the way he must have planned it from the beginning, cuts fresh in a way that steals my breath. I thought the three of them were starting to care for me as I did them while we traveled through the Dark Realms all those weeks ago, but it was a lie. He manipulated me.
He begins to sweep under the table in silence, and then tells me where to find a comb for my hair.
We’ll need to leave soon, I suppose.
I find the comb in his room but as I stare at myself in the looking glass, my stomach rolling in anxiety, my complexion wan, my cheeks hollow from having little more than bones to gnaw on for weeks, my hair dull, and the pretty dress hanging from my frame like sackcloth on a stick, I don’t think I’d let me stay on appearance alone.
I do make sure the scars are covered by my sleeves and a shawl though. Don’t want them thinking I was a difficult slave inconstant need of discipline or that I’ll be a problem if they do let me make a life here.
I hear a knock on the open door at my back and Morgan’s voice behind me.
I hate the flutter my traitorous heart gives even knowing he’s close. It’s the same with Jak and Locke as well, even after everything.
Pathetic little slave with naught else but three fae who don’t care about you at all.
‘Bryn?’
I whip around, blinking tears from my eyes and find him just a step away.
‘Locke said you were going to meet us there,’ I half accuse.
He surveys me and clearly finds me wanting. I just stop the flinch from finding its way out and giving me away.
‘I came because I wondered if you’d like me to plait your hair,’ he says, looking shy and perhaps a little rueful. ‘It’s just that… Well, I remembered this morning that you seemed to enjoy it when I did your hair when we were traveling and…’
‘All right,’ I hear myself saying, my stupid heart opening just a crack.
He comes to stand behind me, tall and looming, but I’m not afraid. His size doesn’t scare me, it’s his honeyed words and actions that threaten my resolve not to care about him that do.
He combs my tresses through, being careful not to snag them, and then he arranges my long hair into a neat plait down my back, securing it with a leather tie.
‘There,’ he says softly.
‘Will I— Do I look…’
‘You look very bonny, Bryn.’
I huff at his lies and the unfurling warmth I feel in my gut even though I know the truth.
‘They’ll take one look at me and cast me out,’ I whisper. ‘Everything it took to get here and I’ll be undone because my bones are sticking out.’
‘That isn’t true, Bryn.’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘It’s time,’ Locke booms from the other room and I feel as if I’m going to lose my recent meal.
‘I won’t let them make you leave,’ Morgan whispers in my ear as I walk out to the main living area.
Hollow words.
How would he stop it if Locke cannot?
The three of us leave the cottage and walk back the way we came last evening. There are more humans out now, even children playing. They look well fed. Happy.
I have to force myself to keep pace next to Morgan and Locke, and not behind them. I’m their equal here, I tell myself, but an insidious voice from deep within that sounds suspiciously like Warrior’s hisses,You aren’t one of them, and you won’t be. As soon as the Light Realmers set eyes on you, they’ll find you lacking. Your time here is borrowed and it will end sooner than you think!
I suppress a shiver and lament the fact that I don’t have a weapon, or anything to fight with if they fling me back to the Dark like a fish too small to be worth gutting. I have to find a way to make myself valuable to them somehow. Despite what Locke and the others say, I can count on no one but myself.
