Page 124 of The Washwoman at the River’s End

“Aye.” I give a sharp nod.

“They're in the back. Come with me,” he says, leading me around the bar and through a separate door. I follow, and we walk in silence, twisting through a long dark hallway until we come to a damp store room.

“Can they hear us?” he whispers.

I pull out my carving, wanting to busy my fingers to dispel some of my nervous energy. “No. They're too low ranking for the Cutter to give them a dàn of hearing.”

His face relaxes. “Good. Where have you been? Did you truly go to see your family as they said?”

I rub my hand down my face. “I did, but not because I wanted to. It was on Cailleach’s orders.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Why would she do that?”

“She didnae like that I questioned her.”

“I dinnae like them here. They’ll bring nothing but trouble," he says.

“Aye. And not just because they're watching me. They were just asking if there are rebels here,” I say.

Theo’s eyes go wide. “Of course there aren’t.”

“I dinnae ken if it matters. You know as well as I do that Harold's journal is enough for the Cutter to think there is, should she find out about it.”

He shakes his head. “It's just his grandda's journal. You can't fault him⁠—”

I narrow my eyes and cross my arms. “It's more than that, and you ken it,” I say. My statement hangs there between us, loaded with meaning. Because while I know there aren't rebels lurking about planning to overthrow the queens, I also know that the people here do not consider themselves her loyal subjects, either.

Theo’s jaw works, his hands clenching into fists. “No one here would dare risk their lives to defy the Fates.”

I lift my hands in front of me. “I know. And you're all safe. With me, at least. But you need to understand the gravity of the situation you are all now in. Cailleach is watching me closely. If she gets any suspicion the people here are against her, she'll have Athair burn this entire village to the ground in a single breath, and she willnae lose a wink of sleep over it.”

“But you’re one of her top Dìdeanair. Why would she be watching you?”

I take a second to listen, making sure none of the guards have followed. My dàn of warning remains silent. “Bea has been having visions. The women who are disappearing, she sees them. Every single one. But she sees their lives instead of their deaths, and then she’s sent their clothes to wash.

Theo pales. “What do you mean? The disappearing women are… They're all dead?”

I nod. “Aye. And the Cutter refused to hear of it.”

Theo rubs the back of his neck. “What does this mean?”

“It means someone has magic like this,” I say, holding up the book. “Someone is killing outside of the Fates’ power. But the women’s souls are not passing into the After. They’re trapped, haunting the river. And the Cutter is too prideful to do anything to stop it.” Just saying the words makes anger ignite in my chest.

Theo shakes his head. “That will only make the ceatharnaich more active. If they find out the Cutter is doing nothing to stop their women from disappearing⁠—”

“It will be all-out war.” The statement settles between us, filling the dank space with a violent intensity.

Theo begins to pace. “What do we do? How can we stop it?”

His nervous energy bounces off me, and I lean against the wall, suddenly exhausted. “I dinnae ken. Have you heard of any other disappearances?”

“Not for several days. And the guards talk when they're drunk. I'm sure I'd have heard if there’d been another.”

“There was no blacksmith who disappeared?”

He shakes his head, eyebrows scrunching together. “No. No blacksmith.”

Pride swells in my chest. She really did it. “Bea is stopping the deaths. She learned if you destroy a dedication dàn, it disconnects you from magic completely. Whoever is doing this, they cannae reach you if your dàn isnae intact. Which is exactly why Harold's book is so dangerous. Whoever is doing this, they've found a way to manifest magic outside the Fates.”