He scurried from the room, leaving Wolfe standing there looking vexed while also looking like he was debating whether he should follow Cillian or stay with me and make sure I didn’t make a run for it. I certainly didn’t want any alone time with the guard.
“I’m fine,” I said right as a burst of wind shoved one of thewindows open. Goose bumps pebbled my arms, and I shivered, hurrying to close the window, but before I could, fire blazed to life in the hearth, the flames high and hissing.
I shrieked and fell backward, Morton flying off my shoulder and making a garbled sound as he landed behind me, wings splayed out around him.
“What? What’s happening?” Wolfe yelled, an ember popping and landing on my dress, but all I could see were the flames rising higher and higher, swallowing everyone I loved in that castle while I ran away. Just like it did every time I pictured those flames, my skin grew hot and my lungs grew tight, making it hard to breathe. I massaged my chest, trying to loosen my breath, but it was too late. My body had shut down and my brain was taking over. Screams erupted in my mind, and I wanted so badly to silence them, but I couldn’t.
I sat frozen, watching that little ember burn a hole in my dress, wondering if it would burn me too, almost wishing it would.
“Niamh.” A strong hand grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet, spinning me around so I came face-to-face with Wolfe. Those rich brown eyes stared intently, breaking whatever hold the fire had over me.
“I can’t stay in this room,” I said, trying to steady my breathing.
“She doesn’t like the fire,” Morton piped up from the floor.
“Then how does she stay warm?” Wolfe asked.
“She’s always had a jar of firebugs, a gift from when she was young, courtesy of the temple of the fire godwitch. Her parents paid a lot of money for it. The jar keeps her warm.”
“So where is it?” Wolfe growled while I gulped for air, trying to catch a breath.
“Somewhere in the rubble of the tower you destroyed.” Morton’s glassy black eyes shot Wolfe a pointed look.
“Please, fire,” I begged, “go away.”
Just like that, the fire disappeared from the hearth, a chill settling in the room as the windows rattled with the cold wind.
“You’ll be cold,” Wolfe said, and for once, I liked that he didn’t talka lot. I liked that he didn’t ask why I hated the fire. That I wouldn’t have to relive the memories by talking about them.
“Blankets,” I managed, chest still burning. “I just need extra blankets.”
He nodded slowly, his face betraying nothing. “I’ll tell the lady’s maid.” And with that, he spun and strode out of the room, the door clicking closed behind him.
CHAPTER 7
Wolfe
Cillian had disappeared again. He did this sometimes, and it infuriated me because it made doing my job next to impossible. It didn’t help that the damn castle aided him, shifting stairs, hiding rooms, making doors disappear so that I would, in no uncertain terms, not find the high prince until he wanted to be found.
That didn’t mean I wouldn’t try, though, which was why I was currently stalking through the stone walls of the dungeons, checking in all the empty cells for the high prince. These dungeons hadn’t been in use for years, not since Fairwitch Isle went into hiding after its magic began failing. We’d managed to weed out most of the criminals, though that wasn’t to say we didn’t still have issues with certain citizens.
“On guard!” A full suit of armor stepped out in front of me, brandishing its sword.
“Not now, Arthur.”
He pointed his sword at my chest. “How dare you! It’s Sir Arthur. I am a knight of the seventh circle, protector of the godwitches?—”
“Yes, Arthur, I’m aware.”
The knight didn’t have an actual body as far as we could tell. He was just a suit of armor, presumably the armor that the actual Sir Arthur wore, and somehow the castle’s magic had brought it to life. We’d found him in the dungeon, and that’s where he’d been as long as I’d known him, stalking up and down the cells, yelling at imaginary threats.
“I will die defending this castle!” Arthur lunged forward, and I stepped out of the way.
My fists clenched tighter. “I’m a guard too.”
“Liar!” Arthur said, spinning and bending his knees in a fighting stance. “You say that every time I see you.”
“That’s because it’s true.”
