Page 49 of A Thief Among Fae

“Great.” I throw up my hands. “If the bridge breaks, you think I’ll do what exactly? Save you by untethering your boots? It would take me months to learn that! If it’s even possible!”

Desmond scowls, his hazel eyes hardening. “We don’t have months. We have weeks. Make it work.”

“She’s your solution?” a female asks, then scoffs right behind me.

I spin around, stepping back at the sight of the stunning fae female. She crosses her arms as her burgundy lips curl in a satisfied smirk. Her black hair is styled in thin, tight braids, and her eyes are an eerie amber, stark against her dark skin. She wears no earrings, cuffs, or necklaces—just a sleeveless vest and pants. Nothing for an opponent to grab onto.

The fae sneers. “Who is she and why is she here?”

“I’m Cyn, and I’m here because you need me.” No matter how new I am, I won’t let anyone talk around me. “And the why is King Olin’s loot.”

“The loot.” Her nostrils flare. “So that’s how he got a human in on the plan.”

“I don’t risk my neck for nothing.”

She’s taller than me, even taller than Maeve, and looks down on me in disdain. “Dangle a little gold, and the human comes running. I’d expect no less avarice from your kind. That’s why you invaded the Hollowlands, isn’t it? Our gems. Our flora. All because yours wasn’t enough.”

“The annexation was two centuries ago. My village didn’t even exist then!” I snap. Then I clench my jaw to keep from wincing. I’ve got to keep better control of my mouth before something more telling slips out.

“That’s enough,” Desmond cuts in. “Cyn, this is Auri. Auri, this is Cyn. She’s the missing piece we need, and trustworthy, whether she likes it or not.”

Auri notices the crescents on our wrists. The burning malice in her gaze makes Finnian recoil. “You made a vow with a human. Why bind yourself to her, Desmond?”

He shrugs. “You said to find a dependable solution. If she betrays me, she betrays her life. So consider your request resolved.”

She recoils like he’s rebuked her and steps away from me with a huff. “Acknowledged.”

Desmond strokes the cut on his forearm and inspects the beaded blood. It’s superficial. The blade barely skimmed his skin. “Auri, you’ll train Cyn in archery. I’ll handle everything else.” Finally, he looks at me. “There are sets of throwing knives in the weapons cabinet. We start at dawn.”

I nod. At least I’m used to waking up even earlier from my routine back home.

Finnian straightens, waiting.

“Focus on the heist,” Desmond says to him. “If Rune fails, that’s our top priority.”

He looks disappointed, but he nods in understanding. His fabric handiwork is finished, and I realize it’s supposed to be a stuffed animal. It’s dark, an inky black. He tosses the misshapen thing to Desmond. “Still a little lopsided, but an improvement from the last one.”

As Desmond examines it with a faraway smile, I get a better look at it. The thing is a bird. Two tiny buttons gleam as its eyes, and the large beak is a triangular piece of leather affixed with too-thick thread. It’s probably a raven or a crow, but either way, Evie would be aghast at Finnian’s workmanship.

Desmond pockets it. Before he can stride out, Auri catches his gaze. There’s a warning in her curled lip and the narrowed eyes. A warning about me, I’m presuming. Desmond doesn’t nod or shake his head or even shrug. He simply ignores it and leaves.

“Good luck,” Finnian wishes me as he follows. “Training with Auri is always a bit of a shock.”

The extremely irritable fae I’m left with crosses her arms, examining me as if I’m excrement on the bottom of her boot. Then she turns on her heel and follows after Finnian.

Ouch.

The lynx, my final spectator, lets out a low, intimidating imitation of a meow. Judging by its feline scowl, it’s either contemplating what a crappy ally I’m turning out to be, or hungry. Then it too sways out of the room, leaving me alone to ponder what in hell I’ve gotten myself into.

Chapter 14

Iwake to the dim sputtering of light and groan in protest. “It’s too early for morning, Evie,” I mumble as I pull a silken rabbit-fur throw over my face. Evie yanks it back down. Except when I turn to rebuke her, it’s not Evie.

I start, sitting up at the sight of the wizened fae scowling at me.

“Get up,” Nog barks. She shuffles to a small table and sets down a breakfast tray with force that makes the crock of cream wobble.

Last night comes back to me in slow, muddled images. After the evaluation, Nog had led me to the room I’ll share with Min—the lynx. I must’ve been so exhausted that when I lay on the four-poster bed, I didn’t get up again.