The creature pulled its tiny furry ears back and hissed at me.
“It’s a bat,” I murmured, blinking rapidly.
“A fruit bat,” Nibble corrected.
“A talking bat,” I said, trying to wrap my mind around this devilry.
“A fruit—” he opened his foxlike snout, but Emrys interrupted him.
“Yes, yes, Shadow, she got your point. Can you leave us alone now? We have matters to discuss. Go settle somewhere for your day nap.”
“But Petrus and Flint are staying,” he protested, shaking his head in disapproval.
“They’re turtles, Nibble, and not even half as irritating as you. Go to the ivy now and sleep.”
The bat scoffed, stretched his wings, and flew to the far corner of the greenhouse.
“Go on. Try to get on his good side,” the Unbidden cackle sounded like rocks dropping into a cavern lake.
I tucked the strands of my short hair behind my ears. “Erm…I just wanted to say thank you for saving me last night,” I said, while the questions swarmed in my head like a hive of furious bees. He turned around and crossed his arms. An amused smile curled his lips. In the bright daylight, he looked… I licked my dried lips. He looked less intimidating. Guard your heart, that was one of the Renegade’s warnings, right?
“Where are your wings?” I muttered.
“They appear only when I need them. And a horde of Hollowborn was a damned good reason for summoning them. What the hell were you thinking, that you could just walk outat night and they won’t notice you?” A black eyebrow climbed up, his gray eyes cold like a winter lake.
“Are they always around? Those Hollowborn?” I asked. If I could keep him talking, I might gain his trust.
He suddenly took a short, curved knife from the fountain’s edge, and I stepped back so fast that I stumbled on my dress. To my surprise, he handed me the knife and an apple.
“Here, chop this small. Petrus hates chewing. Yes, they’re always around.”
Swallowing hard, I took the knife and the apple and started slicing it, hiding my trembling fingers.
“They never bother to cross the wards. They don’t need to,” he said, focused on peeling an apple, too. Dark strands fell over his face, hiding his features, and I wondered if he was joking. My eyes darted to the straight line of his shoulders, trying to wrap my mind around the idea of wings that could appear whenever he wished.
“Wards?” I asked, tossing a piece of apple to a turtle resting on a round stone in the fountain. Petrus, probably, because it bit the piece and spat it out without bothering to chew.
“Chop it smaller. Wards, yes, those are all around the manor. What kind of thief are you, exactly?” He tossed a piece to a smaller turtle, which I could swear winked at me.
“Wards? Around the manor? To protect you?” I asked casually, encouraged by his answers. It was going better than I hoped.
He lifted his head, chuckling darkly. Did I say something funny?
“Not at all, little thief. The wards are there to keep me in.” His voice dropped dangerously, and shadows rippled like a dark tide over the floor. The sun dimmed for a heartbeat, shadowed by something ancient and powerful.
“Do you see what he is now, Daphne?” the Unbidden cackled. “Isn’t he magnificent? Little humans like you used to worship him in old times. Just like they did me.”
“Do you know him?” I whispered, and he heard me. His eyes narrowed.
How stupid could I be?
“What are you, Emrys?” I asked quickly to distract him.
His laughter, deep, dark and sinful, rolled between the bells of campanulas, bluebells, and snowdrops.
“Those who sent you didn’t tell you? Didn’t warn you?” He stepped toward me, and my stomach dropped. Sweet Mother Mary, how terrifying he was–every dip and swell of his body hinting of barely leashed power.
“They…” My voice broke. “They didn’t.”
