‘Why is she here, then, if not for us to?—’
‘Enough, Sal. She is a fellow seeker.’
‘Really?’ That single word turns my blood to ice, and when Sal throws back his hood, I’m struck dumb by his appearance. He’s a beautiful man, with black hair, deep brown eyes and olive skin, the planes of his face smooth, as if carved from solid marble. But there’s a darkness in his expression, a tense, coiled evil that gives the impression of a fallen angel rather than a saint. ‘She’s pretty. I am surprised the Huntsman let her go and did not simply keep her locked up for his own private use.’
He tilts his head to one side, observing me carefully. ‘I don’t even get to touch her just a little bit? Not even if she asks me to?’
I swallow, fear and indignation filling me from top to toe. The way he talks reminds me of the men in Sussurri. A shot of rebellion surges through me. I’ve just spent four years studying to be a lawyer. If anyone should be able to get the Court to do what they want it to, it should be me. Part of my law course has involved regular mooting, taking part in competitive court cases, and I’ll draw on everything I’ve learned to face this man down now.
‘If you harm me and have to face the Court, what will happen to you?’ I ask Sal.
‘They will likely kill me, little one.’ He steps closer to me, and I refuse to flinch, keeping my eyes fixed on him as he circles me. Then he stops and frowns. ‘You… you’re human. What could you possibly have done?’
‘I killed Kin,’ The room falls silent at my words. ‘Someone tried to do to me what you’re suggesting. His two friends fared no better.’
‘He’s not going to harm you, little one,’ a fifth monk says, stepping through another door that might lead into a kitchen. ‘Now, can we eat? Is the dick-measuring contest over? The lasagne is getting cold.’
‘Lasagne? Again?’ Lachlan rolls his eyes.
I don’t think I breathe as Sal holds up his hands in surrender, then moves gracefully across the room, his robes brushing against me as he passes to take the farthest seat on the left of the table. Declan pulls out the chair on the right-hand side for me, and I sit down. Declan and Lachlan sit at either end with Duncan beside Sal. The two other monks take the seats either side of me, lifting their hoods as soon as they are seated. Dominic is one, the other is a handsome mixed-race man, who nods at me but remains silent.
That leaves an empty seat opposite me, which is filled by the seventh monk hurrying in. I get a strong whiff of salt water and seaweed as he sits down, and judging from his build and height, I’m pretty sure he’s the swimmer. Matt. I hold my breath as he lifts his hood and lets it drop. His skin is far more tanned than I remember, his hair bleached an even lighter blond by the sun, but the man in front of me is most definitely Rose’s dead boyfriend.
‘Matt?’ I’m filled with excitement for a split second when I think how happy Rose is going to be when I tell her that Matt is alive, but then I realise that that’s probably not how this is going to play out. He’s here, I’m here– and Rose is alone, likely thinking that we’re both dead.
‘Hi, Niamh,’ he smiles at me. ‘Surprised?’
‘Hi,’ is the only thing I can think of to say. He watches me, his eyes full of the intense curiosity I remember, but he doesn’t ask any questions, nor does he volunteer any further information.
‘I’m James.’ The man beside me holds out his hand for me to shake. He has a tattoo that stretches from the back of his hand to where it’s covered by his sleeves, but I recognise the top of it– the staff and serpent of Aesculapius.
‘You’re a doctor?’
‘I am.’ He nods, but Sal laughs.
‘He used to be a doctor. He’s barred from practising in the human world.’
James’s hands clench into fists, his knuckles paling with the force, and I feel an urge to cover his hand with mine.
‘I’m not guilty of what they accused me of,’ James insists, and starts to push himself to his feet, which only makes Sal laugh harder.
‘You think you can take me? With those hands as soft and weak as a?—’
‘Enough,’ Declan barks, and there’s a sudden silence.
Matt makes a face at me. ‘As you may have noticed, Sal likes to make his boring existence here more interesting by pissing off everyone around him. He’s harmless, really. He’s being particularly annoying today because it’s his turn to make dinner tomorrow.’
‘Actually, here’s the new deal. You’ll all keep a safe distance from our newest seeker, and in return, Niamh will be responsible for the cooking and cleaning, allowing the rest of us to work in the gardens and the brewery.’
‘Fine,’ I say, like I have any choice. But I promise myself it won’t be for long. That I’m going to work out how to get back to my real life.
‘Please tell me you know how to cook more than pasta?’ Matt asks, pushing his lasagne around his plate. I look down at my own plateful and sigh.
‘Lots of things.’
Matt grins at me, and I feel a pang. Rose would give anything to be here right now to see Matt again.
‘Good,’ Dominic claps his hands together, and we make it to the end of dinner with no further drama. I look back at Matt, who is now intent on eating, any hint of a smile long gone from his face and only the same brooding sadness I so often see on Rose’s face left. In the time he’s been exiled here, he’s aged a lot. He’s been working out to keep his body much the same, but his face is etched with sorrow. He’d just lost his friend, Chris Riali, four years ago when he… well, I guess he disappeared as he’s obviously not dead. I hadn’t liked Chris, but I know his death affected the Hunter family more than I’ve ever understood. Perhaps Matt still being alive is connected? But here, surrounded by all these strangers, is neither the time nor the place to ask.
