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“Rescuing pretty maids and not a hell of a lot else, as it turns out.” His tone turned bitter and he turned a canny eye on me that belied his drunken Irishman guise. “You came through with magic, it seems.”
I nodded, not willing to confide much else.
He drank deeply, set down the empty tankard. “I came through a hero. Obstacles crumble before me. Castles fall. Princesses throw themselves at my feet.” He seemed to recall Starling’s presence and patted her knee in apology. It seemed the drunken Irishman bit might be entirely too real and not a counterfeit at all.
“So, yes, gossip travels,” Fergus said around a forkful of eggs. “I’ve been round this area for a while. I think you know why.” He gave me a little nod of confidence, winking on the side away from Starling.
“I do. So does Starling. And Athena.”
He looked a little taken aback, not meeting his daughter’s gaze. Darling leaped up on the table just then, walking regally between our plates.
“This is Darling Hercules,” I told Fergus. “My Familiar.”
Fergus made a noncommittal noise while I offered Darling some breakfast. He started to tell me about all the mice he’d eaten and I asked him to please stop.
“The thing is—” Fergus cleared his throat, “—knowing where you’re going and all…I’d like to come with you, Lady Gwynn. I can be of help perhaps. And I have a vested interest.”
“That would be entirely up to Starling. I trust her judgment in this.”
“It is?” Starling twisted her fingers together. “You do?”
“Of course.” I stood. “Athena, let’s go see that the horses are ready.”
Starling looked pale and more than a little panicked, but I gave her a cheerful grin and herded Athena and Darling Hercules outside. The horses were, of course, saddled, loaded and stamping in the chill morning air with puffs of eager, steamy breath. My team handled things far too efficiently for anything less. Like Larch delivering my black cloak with the green ribbons that Rogue made for me. I needed the warmth.
Athena leaned against her brown mare, her tufted blue hair a match for the clear morning sky, and tilted her head in thought. “Why did you leave it up to Starling?”
I checked my saddlebags for the grimoire, even though I knew it would be in its usual spot, and resisted the urge to look in the sphere to see what Rogue was up to. Probably tangled in Titania’s lush arms. Not that I was bitter. “It’s family stuff. He’s been lying to Blackbird—ironic, since he clearly had no idea she didn’t remember what he told her anyway—and by default lying to Starling, as well. He’s been pretty much absent from their lives because of this obsession and now he wants in, not to spend time with his daughter, but because he thinks we’ll get him closer to his goal. If she doesn’t want to give him the time of day, that’s okay by me.”
“Families seem like complicated things. Like an intricate dance.”
“That’s probably an apt analogy. And, like a dance, when it goes right, it can be a joyful thing.”
“Until someone gets their foot stepped on.”
“My mother broke her elbow while dancing once—extremely painful.”
“You know,” Athena plucked a bit of brittle leaf from her horse’s mane, “before I…changed, I never thought about family. Now I feel this absence of something I never expected to have, like maybe I was better off not knowing I didn’t have it.”
“Blessed are the lilies of the field, for they grow in blissful ignorance.”
Those pretty lilac eyes flashed. “That was me. A happy flower—is that what that means?”
“Yes. Though I think I butchered that quote. It means that they’re happy because they don’t know any better. Being aware of the world means knowing suffering too.”
She pulled out her dagger while she thought, spinning it absently. “You’re obsessed with your quest too.”
“Yes. But I like to think I’m not hurting anyone else. And maybe serving a good cause.”
Starling and Fergus came out the doors. She fussed with tying her cloak. Then met my eyes. “I said he could come along—mainly because I think we could use his help.”
“Good enough for me. Let’s get going.”
Fergus brought round an impressive stallion. Exactly the kind you’d expect the fairy-tale hero to be riding. He saw my dubious expression. “Goes with the territory. There are certain tropes I seem to have to conform to.” A sword that could have played Excalibur in any movie was strapped prominently near the pommel.
Interesting.
We rode out of town, looping back to the road Athena pointed us to. On the horizon, something glittered, reflecting the light of the rising sun. I squinted at it.
