Page 90
“What does this have to do with our query?”
He looked up in the direction we were slowly making our way toward and then frowned. He knew just as I did that the market ended in four stalls and gave way to the village homes at the edge. All that we’d find would be the apothecary that supplied the court with herbs, poultices, potions, and most importantly to me, materials for all manner of intoxicants.
“Brother,” he cautioned, the word holding a volume of reproach, concern, caring, disappointment, and concession. When I didn’t stop, and he knew he would not sway me from my path, he went on with an exasperated sigh. “It’s perhaps nothing. It’s perhaps everything. If we have not found her near a river, the sea, or any lake accessible to selkies and merrows, perhaps it is because she is not in the wilds. Has your falcon returned yet?”
I scowled and looked up to the sky as if bidding the errant bird to appear at that very moment. “No. However, my hold on it is still tenuous at best. I can only feel the bond in passing waves. Perhaps it has abandoned me after decades of letting the bond rot.”
“Perhaps. Or mayhap it is still searching.” He side-stepped a small herd of children, followed by a governess at her wits’ end trying to control them. “When it does, send it to Lon di Lughae. See if it spies her there. If it is caught on its mission, I’m sure you can find some excuse for its spying.”
“I could send it into the Samhradh plains. Their settlements are further afield and more easily accessed by air. The Sidereals hole themselves up in their observatories, and that will make a falcon flying their corridors more suspicious.” When we made it clear of the tightly packed press of Fae and human bodies, the apothecary’s garden rimmed home came into view. The gate was already open, welcoming visitors to the market into the front of the home, which served as a shop.
“Could do. But if your falcon is caught in Lon di Lughae, they will free it, assuming it is just a lost raptor. If it is caught out on the Samhradh plains and does not bear the paint of any war band, it will be killed. You have just re-established your link with your bird. Would you imperil it so quickly for such an uncertain reward?” His brows drew together, more confused at my brazenness than judgmental of it.
“When she returns, it is a decision I will make then.” I pushed open the door to the home and stepped in.
The apothecary of the small village, born on the outskirts of the palace from necessity more than natural resource availability, was a cheerful man, his wife the gardener of the two.
“Hallo!” He greeted us from a small ladder, where he was hanging a bundle of rosemary and lavender, dusted with a softly glowing powder. “Come to buy herbs, flowers, or mushrooms this fine market day?”
I smiled up to him. “Good morrow, Wolfmoss! I hope you and your wife are well. Neither truly. I’m here to collect the Ard Rí’s parcel?”
“Ah, yes. I have his standing request already packeted out for you, Captain.” The small man dusted his hands off and moved around the shop with the practiced grace of a sword dancer.
A small part of me felt the pang of shame ring clear and true. Using the name of my ex-lover, a Fae I hated with the whole of my being, to collect the contraband needed to fuel my affair with the dark sister should have brought me lower, but it did not. If anyone asked this man or his wife what I had purchased, it could be used against me. My enemies, and the members of the court who viewed me as a threat to their scheming, could use it to gauge when I might be most vulnerable to their attacks. But the Ard Rí? It was well known throughout the court, and even far-flung across the land, exactly what kind of debauched lech Daróg was. It would come as no surprise that over the last few weeks, he had been ordering increasing amounts of the resins and herbs required to mix fresh Siur Dobh.
After all, I rationalized, all I was doing was adding a small quantity to an order he had sent to the palace every two weeks as it was. I just needed to siphon off a small amount to keep the edge of the blade in my chest at bay, even less now that I knew she was safe and alive somewhere in the world.
Wolfmoss made small talk as he opened each small envelope of paper, showing me that the contents and weights he had been paid to supply were all there and not suspicious in appearance. Silvertree wandered the small shop at the front of their house, sniffing at the occasional bundle.
“How’d you manage to gather all of these unscathed?” Silver asked in bored curiosity, really just something to pass the time while we waited for the obligatories to conclude.
“Mother was a Digger in the Order of the Sleeping Fang.” Wolfmoss’ wife cut in from the back, bringing in a basket full of heather and setting it on the worktable. “When she retired from wandering to seek out a father for me, she left with a boon from the Great Wolf.”
Her finger lifted a fist-sized claw made of bark hanging from a leather thong. “When she returned to magic, it came to me. Protects the wearer from the ire of nature.” She turned her attention to me. “You’re the Captain of the Guard, yes? The Raven of the Dawn?”
“I am, madame.” I turned to her fully, watching her with the careful calculation drilled into me from years on the edge of a life lost.
She nodded and pulled an elegant envelope from her basket and slid it across the workbench toward me. “An owl dropped this into my basket when I was coming in from the garden. Your title is scrawled across the front. You being here will save me the trip of taking it up through the crush of the gentry.”
Silver’s eyes immediately cut from the bundle of herbs he was inspecting to the letter, our eyes meeting across its innocuous pale cream face.
“Thank you, madame. I didn’t know the village used the owls of the Crossroads for messages,” I replied pleasantly, expertly hiding the spike of awareness that ran through me like a cold blade.
She casually rolled her shoulders in a shrug. “We don’t usually. Not many of us have occasion or necessity to use a messenger service. Most of the folk here haven’t traveled further afield than the vineyards to the south. Nor have any cause or call to do so. But their beasties have been haunting the trees more of late. First time I’ve seen one drop a note like that, though. Usually, they stare up at the palace and watch the courtiers as they go about their business. We all assumed with the new bodies that his highness had commissioned them as a service to his guests.”
I smiled and slipped the envelope into my belt. “He might have and failed to tell me. He is a busy Fae, and I am but a guard with a fancy title.”
She snorted a good-natured laugh. “You do more than that, Captain, if the tales of the wheat are to be believed. And we thank you for the care you show.”
Wolfmoss coughed politely, drawing my attention back to him as he brought the parcel to me and guided me to the door. Silver went first, and the older man paused at the door, his voice pitched low and in a caring whisper. “Should the Ard Rí wish to quit the sister, he need but bring me a red button when next you pick up his order. I will mix him a special tincture to loosen her grip. Mark me, she is a jealous lover, so you will need to warn him that he will need to make arrangements to sequester himself from her eye, and guard from her wrath, but he need only ask it. We are loyal subjects and would consider it a great honor to return him to his betrothed.”
His concern and care brought an indulgent smile to my lips. He knew not all of the order was for Daróg; he was an apothecary, not magically skilled in the ways of the drui of Ailbhe, but skilled in other ways. Of course, he could see the slight purpling of the tips of my fingers, though he could not possibly guess at the depth of the hue that colored the tips of my ears from their hiding place under my ear caps.
“I will inform him, Wolfmoss. His Majesty is fairly content with his purchases from you. He has been most pleased with the accommodation lately, given the increase in his order. He has shared on more than one occasion that your ability to adjust his long-standing order without remark or delay has impressed him. I’m sure he would not wish to deprive you or your wife of his royal patronage, but I will be sure to let him know you send your noble regard for his well-being.”
To his credit, Silver waited until we were not only free of the apothecary’s house and the crowd of shoppers but also until we were alone in my rooms hours later to discuss what he had witnessed. “Brother, you have been offered a reprieve, and you do not take it? I thought this was a means to survive; it is why I have paid no heed to the darkening of the tips of your fingers. I thought when you found her you would quit the sister, but this has continued? Wolfmoss offers you a specialty of his to cure you of it, and you do not take it? Why?”
I didn’t look up from the side table where I was portioning out the extra herbs and resins and storing them in the vials in my box. “The answer you seek is an unsatisfying one, Silvertree.”
