Rourke, on the other hand, was still and calm. His spine was straight, his chin held high. He didn’t have those beefy muscles. He was much more lithe, and he wasn’t quite as tall, but he radiated just as much strength and energy as Alastar. Maybe even more so.
“It’s in your blood, Autumn. You can say you’re not the same, but it’s how you’re born. We’d all be better off without the lot of you.”
“Don’t talk to him that way,” I said quietly.
Alastar’s head jerked my way. “Excuse me?” And then a laugh. “Hell, you’re no better, changeling. Did you know that no one actually wants you all around? You come back in from your human realm all confused and ignorant and helpless. The only fae who ever go to the Academy to become instructors only do so because their lives are worthless or they’re forced. They’re the lowest of the lows in the fae world. Ex-rebels, robbers, unwanted bastards.”
“Alastar, that’s enough.” Phelan stepped into the middle of this horrible fight, his hands held up on either side of him. “I think you’ve made your point.”
“Don’t tell me you’re siding with the Autumn.”
“I’m siding with the mission,” Phelan said, for once being the more reasonable of the two. “Regardless of how we might feel about the Autumn fae, we cannot jeapordize our plan.”
Alastar scowled and shook his head, and then spun on his heels. He stormed out of the hall, disappearing out into the courtyard. Everyone else stayed quiet and still, and my heart beat uncomfortably in my chest as my mind weighed Alastar’s words. How much of that had been true? And how much of it had been framed by his own personal opinions?
Did the realm truly hate the changelings?
And was the Academy really what he had said?
As difficult as it was for me to believe, it did fit in with everything I knew so far. Kael had told me that he’d been unwanted in his home, banished until he found a mate at the Academy. Rourke was an ex-rebel, an enemy to his crown. And Liam had been captured for serving Queen Marin, only released so he could spend his days at the Academy. I didn’t know Finn’s story yet, but I had a strange certainty that it would be something along those lines, too.
Someone cleared his throat. I didn’t know who, and it didn’t matter. It was enough to knock us all out of our reverie and back to the mission at hand, as strange and uncomfortable as we might all be now.
Phelan moved over to the map, braced his hands on the table, and stared down at it for a long moment before he sighed. “Rourke, do you have any idea where that stone might be?”
“Are you certain I’m the one you wish to be asking about this?” Rourke asked coolly. “Or would you rather consult someone not stained by their birthplace?”
Phelan’s grip tightened on the table. “Look, I’m not going to pretend that there’s no tension between our people and yours. It’s been that way for decades, and it feels alien to be working together, particularly on something that involves fighting back against your Queen. But you’re what we’ve got, and we need your help. It’s your call whether or not you want to give it.”
“Rourke,” I said, my eyes pleading with him across the room. “Do you know where the stone might be?”
He pursed his lips, his eyes searching mine. “You still want to help these fae, after everything they’ve just said about you.”
“No, I want to help the realm.”
With a slight sigh, he gave a nod and turned back to Phelan. “On the border between the free territory and the Autumn woods, there’s a small village of Wilde Fae. It’s not...the most pleasant place in the realm, particularly not the shop where the stone might be found. The keeper specializes in death objects, items found on dead bodies. It’s possible the stone could have found its way there.”
Phelan gave a nod. “Good. You will leave at dusk.”
Chapter Nine
Liam helped me onto my horse, his face a reflection of the torment in his heart. He wouldn’t be coming with us, but even he had to agree that it was for the best. It would just be me and Rourke. No one else. The Hunters were afraid that a large party might attract the attention of any Autumn fae out on patrol near the border, alerting the Queen as to what we had planned. Rourke had volunteered to go, as he was the only one of us who knew where the Wilde Fae village was located. And, I obviously had to go, to test whatever the shopkeeper tried to pawn off on us. We needed to be certain it did what he said it did.
“You be safe now,” Liam said, eyes flashing. “If the situation doesn’t feel right, you run, okay? And you come right back here to me.”
I nodded, wrapping my hands tight around the reins. “All we’ve got to do is go get the rock and come right back.”
“And don’t waste too much time,” Phelan said from the doorway of the stables. “You still have more training to do with the stone. The longer this takes, the longer it will be before we can send you into the Autumn Court to spy on the Queen.”
Rourke steered his horse over to my side. “I know you don’t think you can trust me, but you can. I’m not going to let anything happen to Norah.”
“Oh, I have no doubt about that,” Phelan mused before dropping his head back to stare up at the darkening sky. “Now, go. If you hurry, you can be there and back by sunrise.”
Rourke gave a nod, and the two of us steered our horses to the gates of the castle. The guards waved us through, and soon, we were on our way. Because of the turmoil between the Courts, Rourke and I were forced to go by foot rather than simply rely on our ability to shift. When the Courts were at peace, the boundaries were open, and free access was allowed. By foot, by horse, by wings, or by magic. But those boundaries had been shut down. Now, the only way out was to go back through that archway by the tavern we’d passed on the way in.
Rourke and I were silent as we followed the long and winding path. The summer night rose up around us, just as brilliant and as vibrant as the cloudless sky days. Flora and fauna danced in the soft breeze, almost glowing underneath the light of the full moon. The gurgling stream beside the path was rushing now, and even in the dim light, I could see fish poking out their heads and darting back under the blue.
“Rourke,” I finally said, after what felt like hours upon hours of silence. “I hope you know I truly am sorry. I never should have snapped at you like that, especially not after...”
