‘Weren’t you minding her?’
‘The redhead? No, that’s Fred. Did you hear he’s in the infirmary, though? The girl bit him.Bithim! Those islanders are feral.’
They all guffaw and Brielle bends her fork into a curve. The arrogance, the sheernerveof them. But good on Agnes for fighting back. And at least now Brielle can find her. There are only three towers at court and all she needs is a set of keys. There are witch wards everywhere; they’ll have to break in without witchcraft. She looks up to signal to Pearl that it’s time to go, but the girl’s meal is almost untouched.
That’s when she notices Pearl’s gone.
Brielle glances left and right, being careful not to appear like she’s searching, then spies Pearl’s halo of blonde hair bobbing up behind one of the men at the next table. They keep talking – discussing the ‘other island girl’ in the Trials, and how she’s lucky to still be alive after the last Trial – as Pearl places small glasses next to each of them, which they pick up and drink without even noticing where they came from. She’sback in her seat a few heartbeats later, innocently chewing a mouthful of pie.
‘Delicious rabbit,’ she comments, chopping up a piece of carrot.
Brielle says nothing, narrowing her gaze on Pearl, who merely smiles innocently at her, then continues chewing.
The men of the watch carry on talking, and Brielle gleans that Mira is alive, so is Kell, and Agnes is causing a lot of trouble for the watch drafted in to guard her. She also learns who is leading the Trials, and when the next one will take place. In just two days’ time. She polishes off her drink just as one of the men blows out a big breath.
‘Feeling a bit … hot in here, isn’t it?’ he says, fanning his face.
‘Now that you mention it …’ the man across from him says.
Their eyes all turn bulbous, and they clamp their hands over their mouths as they leap up, dashing for the bathroom. When they’re gone, Pearl sniggers quietly and stands up. ‘Time to move on?’
Outside, Brielle rounds on Pearl, mindful of the revellers surrounding them. ‘What was in those drinks?’
‘Bitter root,’ she says with a shrug. ‘Only a little bit. It won’t kill them, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
Brielle shakes her head, oddly impressed. ‘Remind me not to piss you off.’
‘Don’t side with my enemies, Hunter, and you never will.’
Brielle chuckles, turning to move on, when she spies someone across the street. ‘Helene?’ It couldn’t be her here, could it? Surely she hasn’t left Egan. Surely she wouldn’t have followed Kell here. Brielle frowns, moving with swift steps towards the slight woman with the old-fashioned Leicenan hairstyle, pushing past a steady stream of revellers and hawkers. But when she reaches the spot where the woman was standing she finds Helene has shifted into an alleyway.
‘Brielle, no—’ Pearl says, tugging on her sleeve, but Brielle shakes her off, stalking forward.
It’s not until footsteps sound behind her, until a whisper of wind snakes past her nose smelling of copper and something else, something distinctly witch, that she realises Helene is not here alone.
Helene steps forward, worry etching her features. ‘I’m sorry, Brielle. They gave me no choice.’
Brielle whirls, finding two hunters blocking her path, then another, emerging from the alley behind Helene. Not the hunters that tracked her across the continent, though. No, these are hunters she knows all too well, the hunters of Coven Septern.
‘Hira, Shayle. What a delight to see you both. Completely by chance, I assume?’ Brielle says carefully, sizing them up. ‘I’m surprised you’re not at Leicenan court on assignment or keeping some merchant happy in a mine in Valstra.’
Shayle scrunches her nose. ‘You always were mouthy when cornered.’
‘You’re not an easy witch to track down,’ Hira adds, folding her arms across her chest. Then she throws out a hand, catching Pearl by the wrist. ‘No, no, little ghost. Don’t try anything.’
‘You’re coming with us,’ Shayle adds, at her side. ‘Both of you.’
‘if you stay out therein the street, they’ll only spot you,’ Hellius says, beckoning them inside. ‘You’ve created quite a rumble in the Society. Isaiah was very careful who he trusted his theories with and many of the members were overly cautious. They believed his research risky. Potentially dangerous.’
‘And were you someone he trusted?’ Eli asks pointedly.
‘I was,’ Hellius replies. ‘And, if you come inside, I can prove it to you.’
Lowri wonders if this is a trap, if the temptation of two otherworldly visitors is too great a prize. But she is long past wariness. The desperation and longing to return to their world is almost tangible, a riddle she must solve. ‘Know that if you are lying to us, I have a very good right hook.’
Hellius raises his eyebrows at that and chuckles before disappearing into the room beyond.
‘Maybe I should make the threats, Lor,’ Eli mutters. ‘Although you do have an exceptional right hook.’
