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The pain had hit me out of nowhere, so intense it almost knocked me off my feet. It had been throbbing in my head the whole time we looked for the inn, during that ridiculous interaction with the bartender, and finally hit its peak later that night.
In the morning, however, I’d awoken to find Lonnie missing and I forgot all about the pain in my head.
That was, until it returned with a vengeance.
After the fight with my father, the headaches struck again, this time accompanied by extreme nausea and fatigue. Deep down, I knew something was wrong, but I refused to dwell on it. Instead, I gritted my teeth against the pain, and forced myself to focus on the road in front of me.
To my slight surprise and admiration, Lonnie really did seem to know her way around this city. She led us straight down windingstreet after winding street, managing to stay in the shadows. We hardly passed anyone as we walked, and the few we did pass were either drunks, swaying on tavern steps, or else averted their eyes the moment they saw us, minding their own business with an almost fanatical precision.
Finally, Lonnie stopped in front of a shabby stone cottage.
“There’s only one healer in this city worth a damn,” she muttered. “It’s been almost two years since I’ve seen her, but I’d be surprised if she doesn’t still live here. Ciara has been here longer than I’ve been alive.”
Ambrose nodded sagely. “Let's go inside.”
“Don’t you want to tell us what we’re doing here?” Scion snapped, clearly unable to hold in his frustration any longer.
“I will once we get inside,” Ambrose promised. “Assuming this is the right place. I’ll have to see it to know for sure.”
I raised an eyebrow, and felt my respect for Ambrose rise ever so slightly. Grandmother Celia had never been willing to explain her visions, no matter how many times we asked. If Ambrose was willing to share even a hint of what he was planning, that was a vast improvement.
“Stand back,” Lonnie whispered. “Let me knock.”
I heard her breath catch as she stepped up the worn wooden door and knocked three times. The voices inside stopped, and then the sound of footsteps clattered across the floor and the door flew open and a pinched-face human woman stuck her head outside. “We’re closed!”
The beam of light from the door crossed the dark street, illuminating Lonnie’s red hair like a flaming halo. I watched herback stiffen as she looked up at the woman in the doorway. “Oh, shit,” she muttered, seemingly without meaning to.
The woman’s face contorted with disgust as she looked down at Lonnie on the doorstep. “You!”
“Yes,” Lonnie said resignedly. “Hello. I’d say it was nice to see you again, but I’d really rather not lie.”
I almost laughed. I knew Lonnie was serious—she didn’t want to lie and scald her throat—but as one might expect the strange woman took her words as an insult.
Her look of contempt morphed into one of anger. “What are you doing here? Coming to spread your curse even wider? Drawing the attention of the Fae to good, hard-working people unlike yourself.”
“I don’t have time for this.” Lonnie snapped. “Is Ciara here?”
“No!” the woman spat, trying to close the door in Lonnie’s face.
“She’s lying,” Ambrose said passively.
The woman looked over Lonnie's head, seeming to notice for the first time that she wasn’t alone. I watched the realization and then terror dawn in her eyes as she looked from Ambrose to Scion to me in turn. She went as white as a sheet, and promptly fled back into the house, leaving the door hanging wide open. The sound of another door opening and slamming shut followed, as if the woman had fled out a back door.
“I wish I could say that was surprising,” Lonnie sighed. “But that woman has always hated me.”
“Why?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“Because she draws too much damn attention,” Another strange voice replied.
My eyes snapped back to the door. For a moment, I thought there was no one there, but then I saw the shadow. The tiniest woman I’d ever seen stood in the doorway. She was so short, she was nearly completely obscured by Lonnie standing in front of her. Still, her size didn’t stop her from glaring at us with wintery disapproval.
“Hello, Ciara,” Lonnie said, sounding like she was trying to hide a smile. “It’s good to see you again.”
The woman gave Lonnie a long searching look, then sighed, turning back around and heading into the depths of her house. “You’re later than I expected,” she called. “I assume you’ve come for the book?”
15
LONNIE
