Page 31 of A Beastly Court

But my friends knew all about my affliction and the one who’d cursed me.

“If I ever see your grandmother again, I’m going to chew on her leg like I would a chicken bone,” Flora vowed.

Daphne bent her head, lipping at Sawyer’s head and inhaling his scent with large twitches of her velvety nostrils. Like with Flora, the little tomcat remained still, his eyes slitted against the mare’s tickling chin whiskers. “Fascinating. Your scent is all over him, and it’s not recent, either. But if Cernunnos should discover him—”

“He’s not going to.” I gave the cat a little tap on his head. Sawyer eagerly yanked his head back into the foraging bag, disappearing from view and my friends’ scrutiny. “He can’t. He might forgive me for leaving the courtyard, but he’ll never forgive me if he finds out I let a cat take me to a farmhouse halfway across Redbud.”

“Farmhouse? Whatever for?”

“I’ve been told I can revive the Hawthorne hearth ember there.”

Flora spat on the ground. “Whatever for? Those witches made it clear you mean nothing to them.”

I winced; that truth was still sour in my mouth no matter how much time passed. “That may be, but the ember was responsible for freeing the first part of the net. It was already weak then, but if I can get it back to full power, it might just free the entirety of me this afternoon!”

“Seriously? With your magic unlocked… why, you could go after Wystan!” Her beady black eyes positively sparkled. “You could kick all the butts!”

“Where is this farmhouse?” Daphne asked, ears pricking. “Certainly beyond the town, for I’ve never seen such a thing.”

“It’s to the east, like four or five miles from here.”

The mare swiveled her head up at the sky and then back to me. “You’ll never make it there and back again before nightfall, let alone before Alec returns. And where is your coat?”

“That’s what I said,” came Sawyer’s muffled voice from my foraging bag.

“Well I certainly won’t if I keep standing here talking to you both,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and sticking my hands into my armpits to keep them warm. Did everyone doubt my abilities here? I started off for the cedar trees. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Daphne trotted in front of me, halting my exodus. “Flora,” she prompted.

“I got it, I got it,” the honey badger sighed, pretending she was the most put-upon beast in all existence. Then a predatory light came to her eyes and she snapped her vicious teeth. “I’m on delay-Alec duty.” With a malicious cackle, she padded off in the direction she’d come.

“Well, get on my back, dear,” Daphne told me.

“Wait, seriously?” I sputtered.

“I’m an old girl, Meadow, but I’m not lame. I can get you five miles there and back again a lot quicker than you can get there yourself. Besides, you won’t know how much time you need with the ember. And my absence from the estate won’t be strange in the least. As the game warden, I’m constantly running around.”

I shook my head. “It’s one thing if Ossian finds out I went on this little fieldtrip alone. It’s another thing entirely if he finds out you helped me.”

Quick as a flash of lightning across a black sky, the mare whipped around and bit me on my right buttock. “Do not make me repeat myself, Meadow! Get on.”

“Ow,” I told her, smacking her in the neck. Then I grabbed two fistfuls of mane and hauled myself onto her back. She might be fine-boned, but I could tell she was stronger than I gave her credit for. “Why are you helping me, Daphne? I mean, we’re friends, but…” Ossian will kill you if he finds out.

The unspoken words startled loose a thought I’d never considered before: how could I love a male who would kill my friend for helping me? The maelstrom guarding my suppressed memories flared, and I quickly released that line of reasoning to spare me the pain.

“I never liked how Cernunnos keeps you under lock and key like a prized pet,” was her reply, her lean legs speeding into a smooth canter. “You are a woman. And a woman is like a bird—she is never to be caged. Only encouraged to fly as high as she can.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The old white mare was quick and her gait was smooth. I was especially thankful for that, for I’d never ridden a horse before and wasn’t sure if I’d be able to stay astride without clamping my arms and legs around her in a death grip. She knew all the secret places, all the winding deer trails and long-lost backcountry roads that would keep us hidden away from any castle patrols or any of Wystan’s bandits. That didn’t stop me from looking over my shoulder a dozen times during the thirty-minute ride. Under Sawyer’s direction from where he and the foraging bag were corralled on my lap, Daphne brought us to the farmhouse.

White with black shutters, it had a wraparound covered porch and a nice red chimney and a steep roof to slough off both leaves and snow. There were plenty of large windows to let in the sun at any time of day, and myrtle and morning glory vines crept along the lattice-covered crawlspace. A white picket fence surrounded the old farmhouse, rosemary and lavender growing at the garden gate and thousands of multicolored delphinium blooms everywhere else.

That’s a floral ward, I realized.

This was a witch’s farmhouse and no mistake.

In the southern corner was an ancient maple tree, now devoid of leaves, and beyond that a dormant wildflower field and an orchard that smelled sweetly of composting apples.