Amadan blinked. His long, dark lashes were tipped with gold as well. “Who?”
“The knight you shot.”
“Oh.” Amadan made a flourish of his hand, and there, he held another arrowhead, the twin to my own. He played with it, weaving it between his fingers, then flicked it away, so hard it imbedded itself in the trunk of a nearby tree. “I did not mean to hurthim.”
“I know who you meant to hurt.” And little did I appreciate it.
Amadan shrugged. “He is unworthy of you.”
“I am the one to decide that.” Let me choose this one decision in my own life at least.
Another elf-shot appeared between the Fool’s fingers, and he again flicked it towards the tree. Sap oozed, as from a wound. “You should be grateful your shepherd sat near the front of the church. I was outside the door. I could not shoot that far.”
My blood curdled, and words escaped me. The Fool did not even pretend to innocence. Did not deny what he had done, or at least attempted to do. I gulped down air and exhaled slowly, until at last I felt calm enough to speak. “Yet you hurt an innocent instead.”
“I hurt a mayfly.” He held open his palm, and three mayflies landed upon it, fluttered delicately for a moment or two. Then he blew upon them, and they disintegrated into dust. “How much longer will he last anyway? Another thirty or forty years? You and I are infinite compared to such as these.”
“That is beside the point.” Heat rose inside me; I stamped it down, like crushing down weeds. “You said you would not threaten the shepherd’s life.”
“Nor did I.” He smirked. “What threat could there be with such a cunning woman on the premises?”
His flattery did not appease me. “I have never treated elf-shot before! You took an unreasonable risk! If the mortals should find out—”
“Find out what?” he asked, considering his long fingers. “That the elf-shot was, indeed, what, shot by an elf? How terribly shocked they would all be.”
My mouth dropped open, closed again, opened again, several times.
“I knew you would save him,” he continued with a smirk. “And then you would come find me.”
I recalled the strange scent upon the arrowhead: like moss and musk and unholy things.
Amadan had played me, like he might have played his own flute.
“You had an innocent shot, just to bring me here?”
“I told you, I meant the arrow for your shepherd.”
“He is an innocent, too.”
“Is he?” Amadan raised his eyebrow. “I find it very hard to tell.” He made a broad sweeping motion with his arm, summoning visions in the air.
Thomas sat with Margaret at the baron’s table, lifting her food to her lips that she would not spill on her gown. The image vanished, and she bent to greet Cullen, the puppy she had given Thomas many years ago, whom he loved so dearly. Cullen had only just begun to give me any warmth of greeting at all.
“No.” At my words alone, the vision vanished.
Amadan swooped in like a hawk, bedeviling my ears and perplexing my mind. “The shepherd can never love you as long as you will him.”
“He will love me for the rest of his life,” I said, with great certainty.
It did not make Amadan’s words a lie.
“The shepherd is my business, not yours.” I straightened, boldly meeting his eyes. “I did not ask for your advice.”
Amadan stepped closer, undeterred by my words. Dangerous heat rose off his body. “Then take it as a gift.” He placed an overlong finger beneath my chin, lifting it. “I am an ancient and powerful fae. You should be flattered I even bother advising a half-blood like you.”
My heart clenched, and I shuddered involuntarily. His long fingers. I envisioned them, or fingers like them, reaching for the side of Mairi’s face. “No,” I said, backing away from the touch that might have led to her eventual death.
And Amadan had never actually harmedme.
