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Curiosity had been piqued, and I hated to admit it, but some small part of me liked that he had grown frustrated enough to send a messenger.

“Oh. No.” He slid a small, folded piece of paper from his belt and handed it to me.

There was no seal, no flowery language. I shouldn’t have expected there to be. After all, we were not lovers, and this was not a love letter.

You promised.

E

I stared at the paper. A simple message scrawled in a tight masculine hand with a simple letter at the bottom. It could have been from anyone, to anyone and about anything.

“He said you’d understand.”

“Well, he was mistaken. I have no clue what it means.” I shrugged. “Do you have a pen?”

“No, but the Bandrui should have a quill for you to use if you’d like to write him back. I’m sure she’ll have paper, too.” His face softened into a doting smile. “He’ll appreciate your return note, I’m sure of it.”

I doubted that, since I knew exactly what I would write.

We had wandered out of the gardens and to the front of the enormous circular building, and I stood back, marveling at how from a distance it could have easily been mistaken for a hill. But up close, each block that made up the face of the building was adorned with script in a language I had never seen before. Each timber that held up the blocks of the entrance was carved with an intricate pattern of knotwork and animals.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Silver said behind me as I ran a hand up the side of one block.

“It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

“Árus Contráth are masters of their trade and masonry has always been of a particular interest to them. This temple was the first structure in all of Magh Meall, and it predates almost all the courts as well as most of the gods who are worshipped within. They say that, once upon a time, before the palace was built as the seat of power in Magh Meall, the Well of Magic resided within these walls until it was moved to Canai eter Duthracht.”

“How exactly does one move a well like that?”

“No idea. The old stories are often just parables.”

“It could be that the well always resided in the lands of the Cailleach and this building was moved here. It could be that the Well of Magic was simply what the lineage of Túathal was called before his line took over. The Fae are as ancient as ancient could be. We came before humans. We witnessed the great darkness of your realm be split apart and light giving birth to life, and we were ancient then. We will be ancient still when the next breed of humans rise from your ashes. We have forgotten more of our history than humans have even been aware enough to write of their own.” The Bandrui stepped through the doorway that led down into the temple and smiled up to me. “Cricket, my sweet, come to visit me finally. I have only spent a moon sulking at your absence. The two of you come in and greet the gods. We will have some bread, and you can tell me of your victorious return to court, my dear. You can come, too, Silvertree.”

I wrapped my arms around the Bandrui and drew myself up into a tight hug around her neck. I had missed her and her teasing eyes more than I could say. More than I had even realized.

Her twinkling laughter filled my head and drove the doubts and hardships away as her arms encircled my back and held me to her. “Clever girl, I knew you’d come around to finding my weakness for hugs eventually.”

Silver chuckled behind me. We followed the Bandrui past the gallery of the gods into a large room with a long plank of ash roughly hewn with the bark still curling at the edges and polished to a satiny sheen with oils. At the head of the table were three settings, two loaves of bread and several milúll, already split the way I liked them and bleeding their juices into their wooden charger. And next to one seat was a pot of ink and a quill.

“I see someone has been spying.” I cast her a knowing look as I took my seat.

Silver waited for the Bandrui to seat herself at the head of the table and then followed, sitting across from me.

I took up the quill and, in the margins left on the paper, I wrote:

So did you.

S

It was not elegantly scrawled, my hand unfamiliar with the proper way to hold or maneuver a quill, but it would do. I folded the paper back up and handed it to Silver. “Do you mind delivering this while the Bandrui and I talk in private?”

“You were asked to clean the candles and the incense trays of the gods today,” he said, rising and taking the paper from me. “Just be sure that’s taken care of before I return to collect you. And remember, Miss Cricket, no straying along through the garden. You’re my only hope to get back to the palace.”

He gave a wink and then bowed deep to the Bandrui and excused himself. She returned his gesture with a simple canting of her head as she sipped her tea.

We fell silent as we waited for him to leave.

The moment the Bandrui sensed he had left the building, her eyes slid to me, and she flicked her hand, sending the door to the dining hall slamming closed and locking.