“Why do you say that?” he asks.
I shrug. “You like to collect random shiny shit, like magpies do.”
Mabon glares at me. “My pretties aren’t shit! They are pretty!”
“Okay. Yes. You are right. I’m sorry.”
He gives me a suspicious look, but then sniffs and nods his acceptance of my apology.
I sigh and we start walking again. A few moments later, his hand slips back into mine and my heart goes all crazy again. Who knew that holding hands could be so wonderful? It never felt like this with my ex-girlfriends. Maybe that’s why they are my exes.
That feels like far too profound a revelation to deal with right now, so I shove it aside and look for the next sign showing the way to the train station instead.
I find it and it is pointing right, so we turn the corner and the station comes into view. It’s not that busy, being as it’s a small town on a weekday late morning, long after commuting time. But there is still a fair bit of bustle.
My attention is drawn to two men standing by the main entrance. An entirely innocent thing to do, but for some reason, it has aroused my suspicion. I bundle Mabon to the side so we are covered by a bus idling at a stop.
I crane my neck to observe the men. They are just standing there chatting. They don’t have any luggage, which isn’t that unusual. But they do seem to be paying rather close attention to everyone walking past them and into the station.
Shit. Surely they are not Resistance? They have no idea where the toadstool ring took us, so how would they know which train station to watch? Unless they are watching them all?
My stomach ties itself into knots. I know that every town and village has a Resistance Cell. Sometimes more than one. They have the resources to do it.
But how would they know they needed to? Surely they must assume that Mabon pinged us all the way to safety? They wouldn’t know of the limitations. Or would they?
Do they have spies in the palace, much better ones than me, to tell them Mabon isn’t there? I suck in a breath. It’s possible. Anything is. Look at the fucking bunker they took us to. The equipment they had. The Resistance is way more sophisticated than I was aware of. It would be dangerous to underestimate them.
As I watch, a woman in a smart suit passes the men. She gives them the thumbs up and then turns her hand slightly to the left. One of the men returns the gesture.
Fuck. They are Resistance.
I grab Mabon’s shoulder and quickly hurry him away, around the corner and out of sight. The old building next to us has an alcove, so I shove him into it. Hopefully, it just looks like we are smooching.
Mabon gives me a questioning look.
“Can you change my appearance?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Not without enemies sensing my magic.”
Shit. This isn’t good at all. Damn it. I need to think.
Mabon gives me a very sheepish look. The blush on his cheeks is the cutest thing I have ever seen.
“I’m…I’m not actually very good at magic,” he says softly. “I’m quite terrible, actually.”
I blink at him. I have no idea what the standards are in magic. Or even what is and what is not possible. I have nothing withwhich to judge him by. He didn’t have to tell me because I never would have known.
“And now you know even more of my secrets,” he says sadly, and he drops his gaze.
My fingers find his chin and I tilt his face up towards mine until he looks at me again.
“You are much better at magic than I am,” I say.
He gives me a wry smile, and the urge to kiss him is overwhelming. The only thing giving me the willpower to resist is the fact that we are a few hundred feet away from Resistance members.
Maybe they haven’t been placed there specifically to look for us. They could just generally be keeping an eye on comings and goings. Building up intelligence. But surely they would have been told to keep an eye out for a fey travelling with a hulk of a man? Sending an order out like that would cost nothing and could gain everything.
Damn my height and build. I’d give anything to be unremarkably average. But then I never would have caught Mabon’s eye.
