Page 14 of The Faerie Handmaid

“I think not.” She pushed Idhri forward, finally removing her hand from his shoulder. He felt a thrill run through his body as agency returned to him, but he was still her prisoner. She stood between him and the door, and despite her evident age, she looked strong. It was clear Skye was afraid of her, too, though he was bigger and a fair bit younger.

“Look at him,” Vivyan said. She pushed Idhri a little closer to the fae man, as if he were a piece of furniture. “Shall I find you a mirror? There’s no doubt about it, Skye. You should have learned by now that you can’t have your fun without regard for the consequences.”

“You can’t prove anything, Dama Vivyan.”

She snorted. “I am old, but my deep sight is as reliable as ever. I have long suspected you had none, and you’re proving me right.”

He glowered at her, and then at Idhri. “What’s your name, boy?”

“Idhri.” Idhri’s voice broke as he spoke it, and his face burned.

“Idhri? What kind of name is that?”

“I don’t know. Emma gave it to me.”

“Emma? Who’s Emma?”

“Never mind!” Vivyan snapped. “None of this matters. What matters is what you did, what you’re responsible for.” She touched Idhri’s shoulder with one long forefinger but lifted it again as she said, “Wait outside, Idhri. I will take you back in a moment.”

Nearly giddy with relief, he turned to the door. Behind him Vivyan snapped, “Don’t try anything foolish, either, boy. You would never find your way alone.”

He didn’t trust his voice to reply, so he said nothing. He stepped out through the door, and as he pulled it closed behind him, he heard Vivyan say, “You will have to pay the penalty, Skye, and it will be the ultimate because you left it so long. It was a stupid thing to do.”

“You can’t make me pay. He will protect me. He hates the damned Rule.”

“He ignores it, you mean.” Vivyan’s voice dropped. “You know it’s not I who will make you pay—although I think you should—but there are many in the council who will insist on it. You, and the others like you, make everything worse. You force our hand.”

Idhri’s hearing was excellent, but he didn’t know what she meant by making everything worse, and he couldn’t guess what it had to do with himself. He stood outside the cluster of cottages, gazing at the tiny lights dancing along the dark streets, tempted to run back the way they had come. Vivyan had been wrong about this, too. Master Hugh had taught him to take note of landmarks. He knew the way back to the guesthouse, but he was afraid of angering Vivyan further. Shocked and shaken, he stood in the faint glimmer of the floating faerie lights and fought his increasing clarity about who Skye was and why Vivyan had brought him here. It was knowledge he didn’t want to have.

Braithe wanted to go with Morgana when she went out in search of Emerlyn, but Morgana said, “Stay, brat. Should Idhri return, you will be here.”

“But where will you go?”

“The Royal Council Chamber. Emerlyn will be there, I believe.”

“Do you know where it is?”

Morgana raised one eyebrow. Her brows had stayed dark despite the sudden silvering of her hair, and the contrast was dramatic. “You forget,” the priestess said. “I have been here before.”

“As an owl?”

“As an owl.”

“So you could see everything.”

“I could see. That does not mean I understand.” It was an enigmatic thing to say, but Braithe grasped its meaning. Morgana had never lived among the fae. The Blackbird had, long ago in the time of the Lady, but he never spoke of it. Whenever the White City was mentioned, Braithe felt a wave of sorrow emanating from him. She had never known its cause.

Once Morgana had gone, murmuring the cantrip to lock the door behind her, Braithe busied herself unpacking their few possessions, setting out the priestess’s tinctures and salves and divining tools on the worktable in her bedchamber. These slight chores distracted her from agonizing over how afraid Idhri must be. Indeed, she was frightened herself. The misdeeds of the fae had been an undisputed canon of her upbringing, and Vivyan’s behavior had done nothing to dispel her fear. In this moment it was all for Idhri.

She supposed it must be true that he was a half-blood, since both Vivyan and Emerlyn seemed to believe it. It was a disturbing thought, but she reminded herself that he was just a boy, and if he was half fae, he was also half human. At least he had not been brought up here, indoctrinated by the casual cruelty of fae like Vivyan.

She touched Priestess Morgana’s protective charm in search of reassurance as she paced the guesthouse, familiarizing herself with every corner. The privy was as pristine as all the other rooms, as if it had never been used.

The place puzzled her. Why should such a fine house sit empty in the midst of the White City? Emerlyn said there were fewer of the fae than there had been. What had happened to reduce their numbers? It was a strange thing, with such riches everywhere she looked.

She decided she would ready the house as best she could for their occupation, though she hoped their stay would be brief. She found bedding for the cot Vivyan had pointed out to Idhri. She made it up with a felt blanket and laid a pillow at its head. She did the same for the priestess’s bed, which was a fine one, with a goosedown quilt and feather pillow. Her own was simpler, with a plain linen-covered pillow and lamb’s-wool blanket, but it would serve her well.

In the kitchen she looked into every cupboard and scanned every shelf, but in the end, she had to accept that there was neither food nor drink in the house, nor were there any utensils with which to prepare a meal. There was the kettle on the hob, and cups near the kitchen sink, but nothing else. Priestess Morgana would not think of it, but it was Braithe’s duty to see that the priestess ate and drank regularly. She felt hungry herself, despite the anxiety that fluttered in her chest.