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“You look like her,” Owen remarked, as if he thought it might help Juliana to remind her that she looked like someone strong who was broken by Faerie.
But not me,Juliana told herself.I will not break. I won’t even hurt.
Remembering the minor injury on the back of her hand, she shifted upright, took out the vial of elixir, and used the tiniest smear of it, determined to save it for more significant injuries. She’d used enough on Owen as it was.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Owen added, reading her silence.
“You didn’t.”
Owen smiled. “Lies don’t work as well on us mortal folk, you know. We are prepared for it.” He gazed over at where the slumped form of his wife lay beneath the tree. “I take it you have a plan that involves reversing the curse? Saving your bonny prince?”
“Something like that.”And he’s notmyprince.
“Hmm. Good plan.”
“You? Still heading for the border?”
He shrugged. “I’ll ask Saoirse what she thinks in the morning.”
Juliana yawned, limbs and mind exhausted. “Owen?”
“Yes?”
“The mortal world… is it worth giving up this for?”
“I never stayed for the magic, child. I stayed for her. Wherever she is—that’s home to me.”
Juliana could feel consciousness slipping from her, but a tiny part of her remained, pinned by Owen’s words.Then where is mine?
When her eyes opened again, she found herself back in the palace library. Several bookcases had toppled over. Books spilled across the marble like blood. The vines seemed to groan against the walls, sad and lifeless, and when she reached out to touch them, they shrank further away.
“What’s wrong?” she asked them. “Tell me.”
“They won’t speak to me either,” came Hawthorn’s voice.
Juliana spun round and saw him perched on a pile of books, several open ones sprawled at his feet. He leapt nimbly off the pile and hopped towards her, holding out his hand in a similar fashion.
“I’m not sure if they can hear me, but they’ve been this way since yesterday. They were fine, at first—even tried to help defend the mortals—but when Ladrien turned up…” His fingers touched the closest of the vines, casting no shadow. “It’s like they’re sickening for something.”
Juliana frowned. “Ladrien came?”
“He flitters in and out. No doubt he’s preparing his army elsewhere to march on the mortal kingdoms. I imagine he’ll take a few days at least, though. His assault on us, the magic he must have expended… he’ll need time to recover. He’s hardly in a hurry.”
But we are,she knew. They did not have the luxury of time.
“The mortals—Iona, Aoife—”
“Safe, as far as I know. Miriam got them out of the palace, at least. There’s a safehouse, somewhere. I haven’t located it. Ladrien’s forces have taken the gates. They wouldn’t have done that if they weren’t inside.” He paused, jaw twitching, blue eyes dark. “It might be difficult for you to—“
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“Right. Of course.”
A pause echoed between them.
“I wasn’t sure I’d be seeing you again,” he admitted. “I thought it might be a one-off.”
“Me too.”
