He shot her a furious glare that said he’d slap her again if Garin wouldn’t drive a stake through his body. “Eat.”
Adelaide snickered, tucking the front of her long fringe behind her ears. “Are you sure? I think it would be interesting.”
“I’m not risking my neck forinteresting.”
“He’s right,” Garin murmured, regarding his brother with a knowing look. “He shouldn’t come. We don’t know how long this will take, and he has no defense against the sun. He’ll stay here for now.” He silenced Bastion’s protest with a glare. “They could use the help in my absence, especially with what just happened with the revenant.”
Lorietta made a reluctant noise. “I suppose I can find him a room.”
As Garin gave Bastion a short set of instructions of what to do at the bar, Lilac turned her attention to Adelaide. “You said only magic folk can find the market. Does he count?” She gestured with a thumb at Garin.
The witch swept her dark hair over her shoulder and snorted. “They will likely be warded this time if they’re transporting cargo. From what I understand, their main clientele includes magic folk and the Fair Folk. Vampires usually don’t practice magic, though I have heard of a couple who study just for the sake of understanding their condition better at the Ambleside Sanctum. Either way, they typically wouldn’t have interest in magical weaponry or ingredients.” Adelaide trailed off as Lilac looked at her expectantly. “What is that chipper look about?”
The truth was, Lilac didn’t hadn’t known vampires held the ability topractice magic, didn’t know what orwherethe Ambleside Sanctum was, but the heady rush of fear and adrenaline she’d felt before escaping her tower weeks ago had suddenly returned.
She had not accomplished what she’d set out to do this evening, and she wouldn’t get the Accords fully drafted or signed tonight. That much was clear. But now that they had an out of Kestrel’s original bargain so long as they successfully retrieved his chest—which, they would—Lilac felt a little better about returning home and devoting more of her time and attention to drafting the Accords. She would perfect her decrees and keep an eye on France.
But for now, adventure called.
Lilac was hardly surprised that Kestrel had asked her and Garin to track down a market they could literally not find, but she would not pass up the easy solution before her. “We need to get to the market but won’t be able to find it without someone like you. You need to get to the market but don’t have a ride. You’ll come with us, won’t you? I’m being serious,” she added when Adelaide answered with a rotten scowl. “I’ll get you your horse—I’ll have a stable built near your cottage. But we’ll find the market together.”
Adelaide hesitated, still wearing her suspicious sneer. Lilac was just about to beg her when the witch scoffed.
“Whatever. I’m riding up front.”
6
No one, not even Giles, said a word as the carriage jostled along the torchlit path toward the main road.
With Adelaide’s agreement, the market party had formed quickly. Giles would continue to drive, with Adelaide sitting up with him. Despite a pleading look from Adelaide, Lorietta politely refused her invitation, saying she had the inn to look after. She insisted even when Lilac pointed out they should be gone for a day and a half at the longest, and Meriam was more than capable of handling things for one night. The two witches quickly worked together on a tracking spell for the market, with the result being a small green firefly currently floating just ahead of the two horses, guiding them toward the Midraal Market. Only the travel party would be able to see the insect as it directed them, and Giles would only have to stay alert to ensure the horses remained on track.
Lorietta had also provided a warm cloth for Lilac to clean her skin, a lined basket of bread ends and cheeses, and a beaten travel bag she told them contained magical essentials for their trip. These were shoved under one of the benches for easier access.
Before they departed, Sable and Jeanare had come to give their farewells. The korikaned had retired to their warded camp stationed behind the inn, Blitzrik’s arms filled with pastries baked just for Aife. Sableslung her arms around them both and pressed a small scroll into Garin’s arms before pecking him on the cheek. “For your troubles.”
His brow had creased as he quietly shoved it into his pocket.
It was that pocket leg which Lilac tapped now, in the quiet of the carriage, listening to the muffled one-sided conversation Giles was having with Adelaide. “Well? Are you going to see what Sable gave you?”
“Nosy, are we?” Garin lounged against the partition opposite her, his head resting against the curtain-drawn front window, arms loosely crossed. A strip of moonlight slashed across his chest from the window, but other than that, she could only sense his smile in the dark.
“I’m only curious.”
“I would joke about your own timeliness of opening letters and parcels, but I think you’ve had enough for tonight.”
He wasn’t wrong. In fact, nothing about the night had gone right. Instead, she left the tavern in a worse state than she found it—the Daemons were just as unprotected as before, and she’d invoked Kestrel’s wrathagain. Not to mention, she was now embarking on some quest to fulfill a generational debt to the faerie king. What had her family taken from the faeries?
She thought of the numerous scrolls and knives in her father’s armory—now hers, she supposed. The jewels encased there, the brooches her mother owned, her dagger… but why would Kestrel once own something so useless? A dagger that didn’t kill anyone, especially the Daemons Henri had claimed it did. Pretty, but completely and utterly useless.
Garin’s hand rested lightly upon her knee, bringing her back. “You were incredible tonight.”
Lilac grimaced, and for once she wanted him to be brutally honest. “I destroyed your tavern.”
He made a dismissive sound. “The inn tidies itself in the early morning hours. I’ve seen worse after a korrigan brawl, but I’m sure Lori will put Bastion to good use.”
The dark mood brewing inside her was not so easily assuaged. “My family ruined everything for Brocéliande. I promised Kestrel I’d fix it. I promised you—” She broke off, embarrassed afresh at her… naivete? Her evident inexperience in leading, in making swift decisions to protect others. Her audacity to hope that she could make some real change with the Accords, but instead, she’d spent the evening fucking around with Garin and then killing one of her own guards as Kestrel possessed him. She’d seen the kind of power the faeries held after striking her bargain with Kestrel, the moment Sinclair came much too close to stealing the throne from her. She’d heard what it had done to Garin, and was fortunate she’d been clueless that he was fighting the urge to rip out her throat that day on the ramparts.
And on top of her piling debt to the Faerie King and his unfathomable magic, she was a young, inexperienced leader of a small kingdom that was apparently doomed unless she announced her decision to marry by her coronation ball. If she didn’t, the world would then see she intended to rule alone, and France would advance. She leaned forward and placed her head in her hands.
