I wrap my wings around me. I will return to watch my mark in a few hours.
The little female who I know I have to kill.
And killing comes too easily to me.
KAITLYN
Gloriana sits back with her cup of tea and puts down the plate with only cake crumbs left. I often bake cakes for the two of us. We long decided not to make them for the shop as it would be rare any witch or warlock would purchase a whole one. They are notoriously penny-pinching.
This one is chocolate, which is rare enough in the Yeavering, and we’re both enjoying it very much.
“The customers were talking in the shop today about a Bluecap being seen in Moranick,” I say, as if I’m making conversation.
“Pfft.” Gloriana hisses out a laugh. “Moranick loves its gossip.”
“Wasn’t there a Bluecap at Reavely and Wynter’s wedding?”
Gloriana thinks for a while. “I think it was a tame one, if I remember rightly.”
“A tame one?”
“Well”—she takes a slurp of tea—“they’re never really tame, I suppose.”
“But they’re dangerous, right?”
“They do have some pretty disgusting habits, the blood drinking being one of them. The fact they make good assassins doesn’t endear them to those outside of their immediate lairs. But so many of them were slaughtered in the Night Lands, it’s hard to believe there are any left who would wish to leave the safety of their caves and mine lairs.”
“So, peaceful creatures, not dangerous?”
Gloriana barks out a harsh laugh. “I’d have thought you’d have learnt by now, my dear, nothing is as it seems in the Yeavering.”
She leans forward and refreshes her cup of tea.
“So, if there was a Bluecap in Moranick, it wouldn’t be interested in coming here, would it?”
“They do what they do. There’s not much to stop them save for the strongest of locking spells, but even then, come the full moon, when they gain their strength and magic, virtually nothing can stop them.”
“What’s the chances there is one here?”
Gloriana gazes at me carefully over the rim of her teacup. “Why?”
“There might have been one in the shop earlier.”
“Doing what? Purchasing a peach melba?”
“Fondling a sticky bun.”
She snorts a laugh so loud, tea spills from her cup.
“You got me, Kaitlyn.” She laughs. “Fondling a sticky bun! Perish the thought! Bluecaps exist on blood. It’s the reason they’re mostly shunned by the rest of the Yeavering. Save for when their assistance is needed as assassins or for their scales.”
She gets to her feet, still chuckling and clearly not believing me at all.
“So by shunning them, they ended up in the hands of the Faerie?” I query, my sense of justice needling me.
Gloriana is opening the door to the prep area, and she stops with her back to me.
“You know, I’ve never thought about it like that,” she says. “But perhaps, in which case, it makes them even more dangerous.”
