He steps toward me, so close his scent punches up my nose. “What if you aren’t defective? What if you just aren’t Fae? What if your grandmother stole a human child because your mother lost hers from the trauma of ear-culling?”
I rear back from him, really hating this changeling theory. “My grandmother wouldneversteal someone else’s child.” Gnashing my teeth, I whirl around.
He catches my wrist and reels me back. “I didn’t mean to offend you, but one has to wonder—”
“One doesn’t have to wonder anything.” I pry my arm from his grasp.
“Why didn’t you go to Dante?”
“Because I didn’t want to cause a rift between him and his brother,” I lie.
He snorts. I won’t take the bait. I’ll walk out of here with my head held high and my confidence in Dante intact.
As I put my foot on the first step, he says, “Know what I think?”
“I’m not interested in what you think.”
I peer into the darkness, on the lookout for sprite patrols. Although Fae trust the winged pests as far as they can throw them, they trust humans less. Not to mention, they prefer sacrificing sprites to the darkest parts of Luce.
When I catch no movement but the gentle sway of leaves, I step out onto the deck and climb onto the boat railing.
“I think you were afraid Dante would’ve refused to help.”
Wrong. You’re wrong.
I don’t engage in a debate, merely jump toward the bank. The soles of the knee-high boots I borrowed from Giana skid on the cluster of slick, knobby roots knifing through the moist ground. I grab onto the nearest trunk to steady my footing, then carefully hop until the soil levels out.
“Fallon, wait.”
I don’t.
He follows me. “I’m sorry.”
“You loathe Dante, so I highly doubt that you are.” I will him to contradict me, but unlike me, Antoni isn’t a liar. “You don’t need to walk me through the woods. I’ll be fine.”
“I need supplies for the lieutenant.”
“And those supplies happen to be in the direction I’m going?”
“Yes.”
My jaw clenches. “Then I guess I better change direction.” I turn and head the opposite way.
I wait to hear his footfalls, but none thud behind me. After I’ve walked a distance, I glance over my shoulder, finding only a murky legion of trees surrounding me.
Relief settles in the pit of my stomach but the feeling wanes instantly. The forest is full of strange noises and shifting shadows and not a single pinprick of light.
A soft keening echoes through the obscurity, raising the fine hairs on my nape. I stop walking, trying to gauge where it came from so I can journey the opposite way. I hear it again and spin, heart clattering against my ribs. I dig through my satchel for the little knife Giana gave me earlier. Its blade is stubby but sharp. I doubt I could drive it through any being’s flesh. In truth, I’d planned on using it to sliver my cheese and dried fruit paste.
My fingers finally meet wood, and I yank the knife out, cutting a hole into my bag.Great.Bravo, Fallon.
I’ll probably end up stabbing myself. Regardless, I hold it out, squinting into the abounding darkness.
Although I probably should stay quiet, I murmur, “Antoni?”
Gods, I hope it’s him. Sure, I’d give him grief for tailing me, but secretly, I’d be relieved he disregarded my demand to leave me be.
No one answers.
