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Lonan’s big body tensed against mine as Nua’s voice rang out from somewhere else in the rose garden. I pulled back as two sets of quick footsteps approached, but kept my fingers buried in Lonan’s fur as I looked back over my shoulder. Nua and Gillie appeared from around the corner, the latter’s dark brows drawn into a heavy frown.
“Oh, lad.” He stepped closer and crouched, scrubbing a hand over his cheek. “I went and got my notebooks like I said I would. I’ve been reading through them. But I suppose you couldn’t wait any longer, eh?”
“Have you found anything out?” I asked immediately.
“I’ve looked up everything I can about the ingredients we used for the leg.” Gillie sighed, shaking his head. “There is so little written about how certain ingredients might affect the abilities of a spiritsmith, because spiritsmiths are so rare as it is. Spiritsmiths who’ve lost a limb and had a replacement crafted the way we made his? Lonan’s probably the first.”
“So… so what’s going to happen?” I asked. Lonan’s eyes held mine, and I knew he was wondering the exact same thing. I could see the fear there.
“We won’t know until Lonan shifts back.” Gillie’s voice was grim.
My heart spasmed with fear. I blinked fast, trying to get rid of the memories now blaring in my brain: the blood pumping from the jagged stump of Lonan’s thigh as he passed out on the forest floor, his skin grey and clammy. The hours and hours spent waiting for him to wake up, not knowing if he would. Not knowing if I’d ever get the chance to tell him that I remembered him. That I loved him.
I stiffened when Lonan limped forward, wobbling on his three legs before leaning heavily against my knees. I smoothed a hand over his fur again. He gave my neck a lick before tensing his body and taking an unsteady step forward again.
I wracked my brain as I quickly stood, resting a hand on the top of his head. “You want to go to our room?” I asked, figuring he might not want to attempt shifting out here in the garden.
Especially if his branch leg didn’t come back.
“Good idea.” Gillie gave me a grim nod as the three of us watched Lonan unsteadily make his way through the maze of the rose garden’s stone walls. “We will need to be ready. Just in case.”
I nodded sharply and looked away to catch up with Lonan, walking slowly by his side, wanting him to know I was here if he did stumble. I remembered the unbalanced feeling I’d had when I first lost my arm, and that was nothing compared to this—to trying to relearn how to walk with a missing leg.
Nua went ahead and cleared the hallways so Lonan had some privacy. Our procession through the palace was painstakingly slow, though Lonan did seem to gain some confidence the longer he walked. I could tell he was flagging though, his head drooping, his dark eyes tired but still wary and alert as he looked around. He was probably hungry and thirsty and exhausted.
“Luad.”
I jumped when the hushed voice sounded from my left. Already frowning, I looked over to see Brahm hurrying toward us.
He dipped into a rushed bow. “I am sorry to interrupt, Luad—”
“Not now,” I snapped.
Brahm flinched, which immediately made me feel bad for my sharp tone. He’d worked for the Brid before, and it hadn’t been all that long since her murderous rule. Trying to soften the frown furrowing my brow, I took a breath.
“Sorry, Brahm. Can it wait?”
“I—” His green eyes darted to Lonan’s huge wolf form. “I am very sorry, Luad, v-very, very sorry, but it is actually a somewhat delicate and… urgent matter.”
My jaw clenched, locking up. I looked over at Lonan. He was slowly making his way down the hall, Gillie murmuring quietly to him by his side. Nua glanced back at us and gave me a tiny reassuring smile.
“Quickly.” I stepped closer to Brahm. “Very quickly, Brahm.”
“Yes, of course,” he rushed out, then lowered his voice. “King Ash, there is a… rather sizeable group of solitary Folk at the edge of seelie land.”
I tensed. “What? More than yesterday?”
I’d ended up refusing entry to the five who had requested permission onto seelie land the day before. Had they come back?
“Yes, Luad.” Brahm kept his voice respectfully flat. “More than yesterday. Many more.”
“What?” I repeated, trying not to let the panic bleed into my tone. “Why? What do they want?”
“I believe they are…” Brahm’s eyes flickered. “Protesting.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “What?”
“They say that you are…” Brahm squirmed uncomfortably, averting his gaze. “They say that you are infecting their home. That you are trying to take over the Woods of Orna out of greed.”
