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As soon as I’d sat back down, I picked up Lonan’s letter to read it again. This time, I focused on what he’d said about Balor, and that familiar hot rage started bubbling up inside me at the thought of him.
The person who’d killed my parents. The person who had tormented Lonan as a boy. The person who’d sliced off my arm.
Would he go back to unseelie once he heard that his mother was dead and Lonan was king? Surely he’d be furious when he found out—he’d been so sure that he would take the crown. But at least he couldn’t hurt Lonan anymore.
Unless he’d found some other way to kill the unseelie monarch. My stomach dropped at the thought. I didn’t know how Lonan had done it in the end, but I figured he’d used her name.
Maybe Balor had found something else. Maybe that was why he was spending so much time in the forest—he was tracking down a lead or attempting a perilous journey to retrieve a king-killer like I had.
Uneasy fear for Lonan flared, making my heart pound and my thoughts start to tumble over themselves, getting more and more frantic. I shoved out of my seat and hurried to the cauldron, forcing myself to take a calming breath as I ladled the brew into a cup.
It smelled sweet and flowery, and tasted slightly bitter from the lavender as I took a sip. But it seemed to help. Or maybe I was just getting better at controlling myself. Being in here alone, not surrounded by staff or guards or advisers, and doing something meaningful just for me seemed to be helping a lot too, just like Fioda and Mol had said it would. I was finally giving myself time to think, not throwing myself into too much at once and feeling overwhelmed by all of it.
I returned to the table and forced myself to sit there for a few quiet moments, doing nothing but drinking my tea. For now, I was stuck, so I had time to think. It may not have felt like something to be grateful for at first, but Fioda had given me the luxury of finally being able to think.
Lonan had achieved the impossible on his own. I had to believe that he would be fine, that he would be able to handle whatever came now the Carlin was dead. He could handle the unseelie Folk. He could handle Bres and Cethlen.
Balor was the wild card.
I finished my tea and picked up Lonan’s letter to read it again.
Balor was out in the forest somewhere. Something told me he wouldn’t go back to unseelie when he found out Lonan was king. He would be terrified of what it meant for him—what would happen to him now that the safety net of the Carlin was gone.
I was pretty sure he would be terrified of Lonan. He’d spent over twenty years abusing the person who was now the most powerful fae on unseelie. If he wasn’t terrified, he was a fool.
I set down the letter and stared absently at one of the many open books on the table, my mind turning that over. After a few moments, some of the words written on the page started jumping out at me. I blinked and focused on them.
Ointment to possess the all-seeing night eyes of the great bird of prey, the owl.
My mouth twitched. Owl eyes? Owls’ big round eyes had always creeped me out a little. I remembered a tawny owl living in the tree close to my bedroom window when I was a kid. I used to peek fearfully out from behind my curtains at night, as if I expected to see its solid-black eyes staring at me threateningly.
Then I snorted, lips stretching into an affectionate smile. Maybe it had been Lonan. I’d have to ask him.
I started getting up to pour myself more tea, but for some reason I stopped and looked back down at the recipe. Between the title and the list of ingredients were a few more lines of text written in the same neat, tiny handwriting.
For when one needs to see exceptionally well in the dark—to hunt, to escape, to stalk, to steal, to kill. Reader, the author does not judge your actions. I merely provide the means.
I sat back down and pulled the book closer, rereading the words.
For when one needs to see exceptionally well in the dark—to hunt.
To stalk.
To kill.
Lonan had managed to kill the Carlin without me, and knowing that she was gone meant some of the festering anger inside me had faded. The desire for retribution that I’d been carrying for months was no longer there. There was no point holding on to it. She was dead.
But the fae who had killed my parents was still alive.
Slowly, I picked up my pen and started copying out the recipe. With every word I wrote out, a calm sense of determination washed over me. The moment I was able to leave in just a few more days, I would be heading for unseelie to be with Lonan.
But I was going to spend some time in the forest first. To hunt.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Ash
“Good evening, Luad.” Morrin inclined his head as he entered the room, closing the door behind him. “You’re looking better than the last time we spoke.”
