I turn to face her. “I will.”
“You’re acting like a fool.” She shrugs. “The female cares about you. You care about her. Whatever happened, whatever she did or didn’t do, you’re not going to sort it out by avoiding each other.”
“Stay out of it,” I growl.
Terra holds my gaze for a moment. Then she pushes off from the wall.
“Fine,” she says. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you. You’re going to regret this. You’ll miss her and live with regrets when you find out that you had your head up your ass all this time.”
She turns and walks away, leaving me alone in the chamber
Am I making a mistake?
No. And that’s all there is to it.
35
Isla
I peel another tuber, placing it in the wooden bowl in front of me. I’ve almost peeled a whole bowl full.
“Do you want something else to do instead of peeling?” Ankinar asks me. She’s an older female with bright, smiling eyes.
“This is perfect.” I smile at her before picking up another tuber.
The work is simple and repetitive, and exactly what I need right now. Something to do with my hands. Something to keep my thoughts from drifting to the one place I don’t want them to go.
Shifterfae females move around the enormous wooden table at its center, carrying platters and baskets and clay bowls. The table itself is ancient, scarred with knife marks and burns, its surface wide enough for ten women to work on either side without knocking elbows. Haunches of venison and boar are laid out in thick slabs, waiting to be butchered and spiced. Whole birds are plucked and glistening. They sit in rows beside bundles of wild herbs. There are baskets overflowing with dark berries,golden pears, and some kind of red fruit I have never seen before. Stone pots bubble over fires set into alcoves along the far wall, filling the space with the rich scent of bone broth and roasted root vegetables.
I am stationed near the end of the table next to Ankinar, who showed me how to peel the tubers properly. I am slower, clumsier, but she nods when I get it right and clicks her tongue when I take too much flesh off with the skin.
Movement catches my eye. It’s Terra, she’s walking along the far side of the table. She stops next to a tall male, their heads close together. The male has dark markings running down both arms and across his shoulders.
“Terra,” I call out, putting down the blade.
She looks up. Her eyes find mine across the bustle of the hall, and she lifts her chin in acknowledgment. I wipe my hands on the cloth draped over my shoulder and make my way around the table toward her.
“Isla.” She greets me with a nod when I reach her. The male she was speaking with gives me a brief look, then moves off without a word. “How is it going with the preparations? You can go and rest a while if it gets too tiring.”
“I’m fine. I needed something to keep me busy.”
“That I understand.” She studies me for a beat.
“Can I have a private word with you?” I ask, glancing at the shifterfae working nearby.
Terra tilts her head. “Of course.”
We move away from the table toward a quieter section of the hall where stacks of firewood are piled against the stone wall. The noise of the preparations fades to a low hum behind us. A few shifterfae pass by, but none pay us any attention.
I lower my voice. “Do you have any black bark? Or know where I can get some?”
Terra’s brow lifts. “Black bark?” She makes a face, her nose wrinkling. “That is the foulest-tasting tea I have ever had. It’s like chewing on burned leather soaked in bile. Why in the name of Kakara would you want black bark?”
My stomach sinks. Doesn’t she know?
“It’s to prevent pregnancy,” I tell her.
Terra goes still.
