Anyone who enters Faerie is more likely to leave with a curse or as a corpse than with an honestly won prize. Even if she is offering, I doubt the bounty is anything I’d want to be within ten miles of.
And yet.
My skin prickles again, a stronger warning this time.
All my senses sharpen. My eyes dart from side to side, but find no one watching. My ears prick up, but hear nothing other than the regular chatter. I inhale deeply, but smell nothing other than Pytri’s stench.
Still, anyone around could be listening.
If what Pytri says is true, there’s no reason anyone need not know about the fae queen and her hunt. It’s news that’s making its way through the realms, not some big secret we need to guard.
It shouldn’t matter at all that we might be overheard.
There’s no reason for me to be on edge like this.
I take another sip of my drink.
“What?” Pytri asks, having obviously noticed my distraction. “Already bored with me? Looking for someone prettier to talk to instead of—”
I hold up a hand, and Pytri falls silent.
Instinct crashes over me. A deep disquiet. Something roiling and insistent that makes my wings twitch and my muscles bunch in anticipation.
When I turn my head a fraction more, glancing back over my shoulder and around my wing, I catch sight of a cloaked figure leaning far too close to be a mere accident or coincidence.
Whoever they are, they’re listening in on our conversation.
And they know thatIknow the moment I see them.
In a blink, the eavesdropper is on their feet and darting toward the tavern’s front door. They throw it open without care, without caution, running right into a pair of fauns who startle and yell their displeasure after the fleeing figure.
A new instinct surges through me.
One that commands me to chase.
I don’t question it, don’t take any time at all to think about what it means before I’m on my feet, too, bounding after them into the brisk spring evening.
It’s fully dark now, and whoever this little criminal is, they’re light on their feet and fast, already disappeared into the surrounding night. Looking left, then right, and seeing nothing, I inhale deeply, calling on my other hunter’s senses.
I catch a scent.
Sharp and bright and entirely out of place in this realm, it draws me after the stranger like a beacon. Like a hook through my nose tugging me forward. Unable to resist, I break into a run after them.
Into the deep, dark forest that surrounds the tavern, the wild lands this realm is famous for. There’s a well-trod dirt path through the woods, worn smooth by thousands of travelers’ feet. That sharp scent draws me on, leading back to the one place I should have expected they would flee.
The eavesdropper is headed to the Veil.
From there, they could disappear into any of the thirteen realms, and perhaps I should let them. Perhaps they meant no harm and were only interested in hearing the tale Pytri was weaving.
But when I catch sight of the back of a dark cloak disappearing around a bend in the path ahead, instinct surges again. Roiling up from the very deepest part of me, it spurs me on, narrows my focus to the single, essential need to seek, to find, to catch.
They’re quick, this stranger, but not quick enough to outpace me. It’s only a few short seconds before I reach them and lay a hand on their shoulder, bringing them to a stumbling stop and turning them to face me.
Turningherto face me.
The hood of her cloak slips back, exposing a delicately sculpted, exquisite face. High cheekbones, full lips, a gaze that’s big and round and—
My soul lurches in my chest.
