Page 68 of A Beastly Court

“But—”

The fae king held up a hand. “Mrs. Bilberry is in the process of packing us a supper, love, don’t worry.”

He knew me so well. Still: “But my friends.”

“They’ve been informed and will make up their own minds whether or not to join us in Elfame after. We do not have time for lengthy goodbyes, Meadow. Off you go, love.”

I obeyed, and at a quick march too, but only because if I hurried, I’d be able to keep the bath short and see my friends one last time. Ossian might be content with an Irish farewell, but I was not.

As it happened, neither were my friends. Or rather, just Shari.

The porcupine was waiting for me under the archway to the east wing, wringing her nimble black paws. “You can’t go,” she blurted.

“Shari, this was always the plan,” I said patiently.

“No. No, it wasn’t. You weren’t supposed to stay.” With a trembling inhale, she twisted around and yanked off a ball of yarn and her current crochet project from where it was stuck on her quills and started crafting immediately. She coupled her work with several deep breaths, the frantic pace of her fingers slowing slightly.

“Kind of hard not to when we’re bonded by fate.” And besides my friends, there was nothing keeping me in Redbud, nor in this mortal realm, for that matter. The Hawthornes certainly wouldn’t care if I left—they’d already disowned me.

The porcupine snorted. “If Daph were here, she’d say you were your own woman and can do whatever you want.”

“Where is Daphne? And Flora?”

“They’re happy for you. The honey badger, Meadow, is happy with something Cernunnos did. They’re not coming to interfere.”

“And you are… why?”

“Because I know what I saw!” The poor porcupine started hyperventilating, though her fingers worked just as furiously feeding yarn into the crochet hook. “On the bridge.”

In the light of my premature exodus from this realm and Ossian’s shared memories, I’d decided to let bygones be bygones about my closest friends deceiving me, and here Shari was dredging it up. “Shari,” I sighed.

“I’m not crazy,” the porcupine whimpered. The words were like a mantra she didn’t quite believe but desperately wanted to. “Not like how everyone thinks I am. I have two memories, two truths, but Daph and Flora, they only have the one. I… I think… Does it have anything to do with why my thread was red?”

“You saw that?” I gasped.

Shari nodded, abandoning her project and reaching up to grip my hand in her paws. Thistle thorns, she was so much stronger than she looked. “I saw everything. And Cernunnos saw it too. He saw you undergo that, that metamorphosis, and… and—”

“And what?”

“I-I don’t know, Meadow.” She pawed at her head, scraping with her nails like she was trying to claw a memory loose. “I don’t know.”

“He’s a master of illusion,” I explained, though that excuse did nothing to keep my stomach from souring at the sight of Shari experiencing the same turmoil I had mere hours ago. Cupping her paws, I pulled them gently away from her head and molded them around her crafting project. The porcupine immediately resumed her crocheting. “What he did on the bridge messed with both of us. I had him swear a fae bargain never to do it again.”

“You did?” She brightened, but only a little. “And you’re still going to Elfame with him?”

I shrugged helplessly. “Forgive and forget?”

“Never forget,” the porcupine muttered. She stabbed her yarn and crochet project back on her quills and wandered off, still muttering, “Always remember.”

Well, some goodbye that was.

Disgruntled, I let the porcupine go, wishing our last words hadn’t been so strained and not knowing how to make it better. I had to go to Elfame. It was a visceral need I didn’t fully understand, but a Hawthorne always listened to her instincts.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The entire Brotherhood accompanied us from the castle. A few rode ahead of us—“Arrow fodder,” Ossian had explained, “in case we’re attacked”—but most were enlisted to handle the bear. And now I knew why we were leaving so early to reach our summoning grounds.

Someone had managed to find a colossal wagon to transport the grizzly, but it would take more than wood and iron and that chain to contain such a beast. No fewer than six Brothers restrained the bear with their magic, the bluish-green markings on their skin coming alive and binding around his muzzle, neck, and legs. It took one Brother to drive the wagon and another to keep the four draft horses calm with magic, and the rest were in reserve to change out any who grew weary.