“He was dead. Possibly carrying sickness from whatever faery killed him,” Isabeau rebuts. “You are the Hunter, protecting the people of Alveus.”
“You aren’t repulsed?” I whisper.
“You protect the nation and shield us all with your calling. Let me protectyou.” Isabeau strokes my cheek with her fingertips. And I feel like something inside me cracks open. Hope slips into the cracks like warm honey. I’d expected revulsion, and instead I find acceptance.
Please don’t be a monster,every part of me prays.Please don’t make me kill you.
I say nothing, though. I cannot, especially as I stand at the site of my friend’s death. I cannot, especially as I am surrounded by soldiers. Hunters do not protect monsters. But whether her curse is real and responsible or not, I feel a growing fear that Isabeau’s request that I kill the monster might be a worse fate than either of us yet knows.
Chapter 30
“ThePhynnodderee, or Hairy-one, is a Manks spirit of the same kind with the Brownie or the Kobold. He is said to have been a fairy who was expelled from the fairy society.”
—The Fairy Mythology Illustrative of the Romance and Superstition of Various Countriesby Thomas Keightley [1870]
The rest of the journey to Maudite Castle is quick, bordering on hasty for such a large group and a carriage. I don’t mind the pace, but I worry over the wearier-by-the-moment countess. And I worry that the Beast of Brimmond, the murderer of Girard, of my father, of three strangers now ... is with us.
Isabeau vanished into the night, and a man died.
Is the sleeping tonic to keep her from murderous rampages at night?
Is her curse that she is the Beast of Brimmond?
It seems impossible, but if she is cursed, a beastly curse makes more sense than a sleeping curse. It’s crueler, and faeries are renowned for their cruelty. The evidence is scant: a curse, the proximity to her estate, and a dislike for two of the victims. It does not explain why she would attack me, though. It does not explain how she would become cursed. There are enough reasons to argue that my love’s curse is the cause of these deaths as there are to think I am being absurd in my suspicions.
I exchange glances with my sister, who darts a look at Isabeau before tilting her head in question. I shrug. I have no more answers than I did last night. The beast I have been attacked by twice was barely visible when I saw it in the city. In the forest, I saw nothing. The third time, I was not attacked. That creature was unidentifiable to me, but it was not as aggressive as the one in the city was.
Are there two beasts?The thought seems to be the most incredulous of possibilities. I wonder if Isabeau’s curse is tied to the faery.Why would it curse her? How would it curse her?Her curse was to sleep, but she was awake at least part of the night.
Can a curse make a woman a beast?desperation asks.
The woman I saw in the stable was decidedly not a beast,logic points out.
My mind is a cacophony of doubts and questions.
“Are you well?” Isabeau asks me softly as we ride toward Maudite Castle. As we’ve neared the castle, Isabeau and I have moved to the front of the group, so any watchers will be able to see and identify the approaching group as a nonthreat. The familiar, briny taste to the air is growing stronger by the moment now that we are out of the wood and closer to the sea.
Nolan is now beside my mother’s carriage. I feel confident that he will guard her well, but it still pains me to be those few yards away from her.
By the time we reach the castle, Isabeau’s staff is coming to greet us.
“Love?” she asks. “Are you well?”
“No. I am not well at all,” I confess as I dismount and walk over to the carriage to assist my mother.
“I cannot ride to the city tonight,” the countess whispers. “I’m sorry. That pace was too much for me. My leg pains me.”
I nod and look to Isabeau. “Can the soldiers garrison here?”
“The quarters are intact,” Isabeau offers. “I will have staff check the beds and find linens for the—”
“Bare mattresses are fine, Your Grace.” Anders stands alongside my mother. Rylan is on her other side. “A roof overhead is nice, but we don’t rightly need that either.”
“I like a roof well enough,” Nolan says. His joviality is welcome as he adds, “I’ll take first watch outside the ladies’ door before I retreat to that bed under a roof.”
As they make plans, I tell Isabeau, “My mother needs to rest here tonight. I will leave the soldiers with her and Rylan.”
“I would offer to summon the family physician, but ...” Isabeau makes a face.
