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  He snarled but didn’t protest when Anweena pulled me up by my elbow.

  “Please, I have to save Puck,” I whispered frantically as she dragged me away from the scene. “He was taking me to my mother.”

  Her lips flattened and she glanced to where Kemire and his small army hauled Puck to his feet.

  “Puck, you say?”

  I nodded.

  “What’s your mother’s name?”

  “I don’t know! But he knows her.”

  “And yet he hasn’t seen fit to tell you her name?” She shook her head, cackling. “Foolish girl. Have you no sense at all? How did you meet this ‘Puck’?”

  “It’s a long story, and I’ll tell you later. Please, just help me get him out of there.”

  “What will you give me in return?”

  I hesitated. It was supposed to be dangerous to bargain with the fae. Yet, I could see Puck’s face as they dragged him away to be chained to the back of a coach. His eyes locked with mine, and he jerked his chin at Anweena as if to say, “Go with her. Save yourself.”

  The old woman pulled harder when I halted with a shocked revelation: Walking away and going back to my old life wasn’t even tempting.

  I still wanted to meet my mother, and Puck was the only way. And yet, Anweena had a point. He hadn’t told me much about my parents. But we’d been mostly running for our lives since he’d come back into my life, and there hadn’t been time for me to ask … or to even think to ask her name.

  I mentally kicked myself. I always hated when people said, “I was just too distracted to think or do that important thing which should have been obvious to anyone with half a brain” and yet, here I was.

  I groaned. “What would you like?”

  She smiled and I felt cold despite the sunshine and my now-wilting cloak.

  “I’ll let you know once you discover who your mother is.”

  “Why not—” The slamming of the coach door behind Kemire, and the snap of a whip on both Puck and the carriage horses stopped whatever I’d been about to say.

  “Fine. I agree.”

  Chapter Ten

  A nweena smiled. “Not certain he’s worth it, but that’s your choice. Now, come with me.”

  “Wait, where are we going?” I yelled when she dragged me away from the street. “You said you were going to help him.”

  “Use your head, girl. It’s just the two of us against how many? I could take on Kemire and one or two more, but from what I’ve seen, you don’t have any magic. They’d overwhelm us more easily than they did your lover.”

  “He’s not my lover, and I do, too, have magic,” I protested forcefully, then grumbled, “at least, sometimes.”

  “Sometimes, what? Sometimes he’s not your lover?”

  I opened my mouth, ready to argue again, but closed it as she cackled. I wasn’t going to let her rile me.

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, get over it. Whether you two have surrendered to lust makes little difference. We have more important things to worry about.”

  On that, I could agree. But when I saw she was leading us back to her tea shop, my nerves stretched to the breaking point. “How are we going to catch up to them? What if they kill him first? We need to go after them, now!”

  “If you wish to chase that carriage, go. But you’ll do it without me.”

  “But you promised—”

  “—promised to help you, yes. As I already said, going on that wild goose chase would end up with one or both of us hurt or killed, and your friend would still be in danger.”

  She finally released the iron handcuffs and I trudged behind her into the shop. The tinkling bell above the door marked our entrance and a few dragonflies from the market drifted in behind us.

  Once more, the charming décor delighted my eyes, while the spicy teas and vanilla warmth of pastries delighted my nose. It would be easy to love this place if I could just trust it. Or its owner.

  “So, what are you planning?” I dropped into one of the plush chairs. Running for my life nearly every five minutes, as well as leftover pain from the Cu Sith’s bite on my calf, caused my legs to give out.

  “What’s wrong with your legs?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Her brows dropped and she spat out a gust of air that blew the cloak from my knees.

  “Hey!” I tried to smack her gnarled hand away from lifting my leg. It was futile, of course. She deftly pulled loose the last of the bandage and reared back in surprise.

  “The Hound got you? When was this?”

  I chuffed a laugh. “Who knows? Could have been yesterday, could have been twenty years ago. I can’t tell with this place.”

  “Hmn.” She gave my knee a gentle pat and left to open one of the frosted-glass fronted cabinets toward the back.

  I craned my neck to watch. There were cute little jars of various herbs, dried flowers, some oils and ointments, and a pestle and mortar or two back there.

  “Do you moonlight as an herbalist besides selling tea and cakes?”

  She laughed, carrying a pink tin tray back to where I sat. She placed it on the table, and I admired the hand-painted flowers on the metal. For an ancient, scary looking old crone, she had very feminine tastes.

  She poured a bit of powder that smelled like garlic into the white ceramic mortar then drizzled honey over that. She motioned the pestle toward my leg before stirring some type of dried flower petals into her mix. “Tell me exactly what happened there.”

  “What has that to do with rescuing Puck?”

  The pestle clanked heavily on the bowl. “It could have a great deal to do with it, you one-note birdbrain. Now, talk.”

  I was pretty sure I’d just been insulted, and since she was adding spiderwebs to the honey and garlic I suspected she meant to smear on my leg, I tried to stand.

  “SIT.” Her voice reverberated throughout the shop, echoing deeply, and settled into my bones.

  I sat.

  “That guy, Kermit or whatever, sent his big, green, shaggy dog to kill Puck.” I hesitated, remembering the guy’s confusion when Puck mentioned it. “At least, we think he did.”

  “Highly unlikely, but what makes you say that?”

  “Because Puck thought Kemire was after him for …” Annoyance twisted my lips.

  “Sleeping with his wife?” she supplied.

  “He claims it was strip poker, followed by a quick exit,” I replied sourly, remembering his sudden appearance in my yard. While I was distracted by the memory of Puck’s naked body under the ludicrous purple cape, she slathered sticky ointment on my calf.

  “I didn’t say you could do that.” I jerked my leg back, but she grabbed it again.

  “Still need another bandage to let this settle. You should be good as new in a bit. Surprised it hasn’t festered.”

  Festered? Eyes wide, I checked out the leg. Everything had happened so fast since Puck reappeared in my life, I’d been hobbling along as quickly as possible without much time to worry about the twinges of pain. When Anweena finished, I gave the muscles an experimental flex. To my surprise, the wound already felt better.

  “What was in that?”

  She laid a finger next to her nose and smiled. “Family secret.”

  I prayed there weren’t going to be any weird side effects, like my leg falling off later or something.

  “And speaking of family secrets,” she said, rising slowly. “Tell me again what happened with you, the hound, and the rogue who says he knows your mother.”

  “Like I said—” Wait. I hadn’t said the first time. Oh, she was good, that old woman. “Actually, I didn’t say.”

  She chuckled. “But, please, do.” She gestured her hand for me to continue, so I did. When I mentioned seeing the Cu Sith in my kitchen, she held up a hand.

  “You say you heard it coming from your bedroom before it appeared in the kitchen?”

  “I believe so, yes. I mean, there were noises like its nails clicking on the floor coming from that area. But
then it was behind me, and I didn’t see it come around.”

  “All the while this ‘Puck’ was outside?”

  I nodded.

  “So, why did you think the hound was there for him? It was already inside waiting for you.”

  A knot of dread formed in my belly as I remembered the events. I hadn’t seen the dog come through the hallway into the kitchen behind me. Could Puck have sent it inside for me? But to what purpose? To scare me into letting him in, or into running away with him? The more I thought about it, the further my stomach sank.

  “Tell me the rest,” Anweena said.

  By the time I got to the part about shooting light at the dog, she leaned forward and grabbed the arms of my chair. “You created starlight? Are you certain? I thought you had no magic.”

  I huffed. “You assumed I didn’t have any. But it’s a fair assumption. I didn’t know either. And it’s not reliable. Seems to only work whenever I’m terrified.”

  “Then I’d think you must have used it a lot, lately.”

  Not that I didn’t appreciate her dry humor, but her words gave me pause. If anything, it seemed I was only able to conjure light shows when the source of danger was physically touching me, or when Puck was in danger.

  What the faerie farts was that about?

  I asked Anweena, substituting me for Puck. I was too embarrassed to admit it, given that he might have been the one who sent the dog after me.

  She thoughtfully chewed a frosted pastry for several moments as dragonflies flitted about her head. “Anything else to add?”

  I started, guiltily. “Not that I can think of.”

  I really didn’t want to tell her I was able to rescue Puck more than once. But … if it would give her more insight on the situation … “Umn, I did manage to save Puck from the Shivering Woods.”

  Her brows shot up under her gray curls, so I left it at that. No need to mention I tried to save him from the troll, the chimera, and even the iron fence of the cemetery.

  She peered at me carefully, her expression doubtful. Memory of that awful cloth she’d shoved into my face came to mind, and I blurted out the rest before she could force the truth out of me.

  Her large bosom bounced with her chuckles. “I see.”

  “What do you see?” Impatience was wearing on me.

  Shrugging, she licked a bit of frosting from her fingers. “Could be you’re under a geis.”

  “You mean, like a curse?”

  She nodded. “Something like that, but not always a curse. Could be more of a mandate in this case, but we can’t be sure yet. Sounds as if you can only do magic if your life, or that of someone you care about, is threatened. Maybe I should make you care about me as much as you do that philanderer, Puck.”

  She grinned and pink icing dotted the black edges of her rotting teeth.

  Really ought to lay off those sweets, lady.

  I didn’t like the implications of her theory. I did not care about Puck. I needed him to find my mother.

  “On the other hand,” Anweena said, wiping her mouth with a brocade napkin, “this is also common with changelings after they’ve been exposed to fae.”

  That was more like it. “How do we find out for sure? I need to control this if I can.”

  She nodded. “We go to your mother.”

  I fell against the chair back. “And how do you propose we do that?”

  “I believe I know who she is.”

  “And you didn’t think to tell me this before?”

  “I didn’t know before. And I don’t know now. But I have an idea, based on what you’ve told me so far.”

  “Which part?”

  “All of it.”

  “And I don’t believe the Cu Sith was sent for your friend.”

  “It was sent for me,” I concluded, miserably.

  She nodded. “And I believe I know who sent him.”

  “So do I.” And if Kemire didn’t kill him first, I just might.

  Chapter Eleven

  A nweena was full of surprises. She procured our carriage and a change of clothing in short order; a rather sumptuous change of clothes.

  The pastel green and pink gown of embroidered silk made me feel like … dare I say … a faerie princess. I ran my fingers over the tiny, silk rosebuds on the lace-tipped sleeves and marveled at the workmanship. I’d never worn anything so beautiful in my life. I made a show of telling Anweena it wouldn’t be practical for fighting magical beasts or running for our lives, but some girly part inside me squealed for joy. And maybe wished for a tiara.

  “Most folk in this part let my carriage pass without trouble. And I don’t have any cuckolded husbands baying for my blood, so you should be safe enough,” she said dryly.

  I snorted at the reminder. I might be safer with her than Puck. She had also changed from her earlier style, which I would have called “Mother Hubbard Does Tea” into a much nicer red and black brocade and satin number, fit for a day of Ren-Faire fun. I followed her out the door, brushing away jewel-toned dragonflies that were drawn to the horses of our old-style, shiny black carriage.

  “Is all this in keeping with the fashion of the town?” I wrinkled my nose at the horse manure.

  She shrugged. “Some are town ordinances. Others, personal taste.”

  My guess was her taste leaned more toward seventeenth century than nineteenth. Including the poor personal hygiene. I didn’t look forward to the trip. I was also afraid of the time we were losing in finding Puck and let her know, again.

  “Stop fretting girl. I’ve received word he’s headed the same place we are.”

  “What? Why didn’t you say so before? How do you know? Who told you? Where are they and when will we get there?” Words tumbled out of my mouth at the speed of my astonishment.

  “Calm yourself. We will be there anon. I expect he’ll be fine until we arrive. The Unseelie queen there has always had a soft spot for rogues.”

  “Unseelie Queen? We’re going to see the frickin’ Unseelie Queen?”

  “We’re going to an Unseelie queen’s palace, yes. Not to the Unseelie Queen.”

  “There’s more than one?” I’d never heard that.

  “Of course, there is. Isn’t there more than one queen where you’re from?”

  “Well, there are some queens in other countries, I guess.”

  “You guess?” Her brows shot up. “You don’t even know the rulers of your own realm?”

  “There aren’t any queens where I come from,” I said a bit waspishly. “And I didn’t exactly take “Fae Land Politics” in school.

  She rolled her eyes and proceeded to educate me on the makeup of the fae realm, insofar as where we travelled. Apparently, it was divided into provinces, and each province had various Seelie and Unseelie territories, each overseen by kings, queens, and various court nobles. Maeve and Aillil were the greater overseers of this portion, which I guessed was why Puck kept dropping their names.

  We currently travelled toward a smaller territory, overseen by Queen Grainne, whose husband, King Boran, had recently died.

  “Why is Puck being taken there?” I asked. “Does this have anything to do with my mother?”

  “I believe it might. Then again, it might not.”

  “So, then why are we going there? Do you think my mother might be there? Why would she be in Unseelie lands? Is she in hiding because of her affair?”

  Anweena’s laughter filled the carriage and I frowned.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You humans. Always so concerned about who’s bedding who. The fae are less concerned with that.” She snorted. “I can’t imagine why Kemire’s got his hose in such a twist. Neither he nor his mate have been committed to their marriage bed in thousands of years.”

  Still chuckling, she opened one of the many baskets of food she’d brought and pulled out a long, fruit filled pastry. “I suppose Kemire’s most upset because Puck bested him at a gambling hall, before going off to play with Lady Kemire.”

  �
�How do you know this?” Puck hadn’t mentioned that.

  “I have my ways.” She took a big bite of her snack and red fruit dribbled over her lips, along with flakes of sugary pastry. She pulled a fine, lace edged linen cloth from her bodice and wiped her lips. “Would you like one?” She nudged the basket toward me, and I declined.

  “So, anyway, what makes you think I’ll find my mother there?” I had given her as much information as Puck had given me.

  “Based on your tale earlier, and the fact Kemire was diverted from killing Puck to deliver him to the queen, I suspect we’ll find our answers there.” She leaned over to place the basket on my side of the carriage. “Now eat. You’ll need to keep your strength up and your head clear for where we’re going.”

  “Wait, how do you know Kemire was ordered to take Puck to the queen instead of kill him?”

  “I have my ways. Now, eat.”

  I crossed my arms and she sighed heavily. “I’ve already taken your promise. I’ve no need to bewitch you with food.”

  I was still annoyed that she hadn’t answered my questions, but my rumbling stomach begged me to take a chance on a pastry. “What type of fruit is this?” I asked, gingerly lifting an oblong fried pie like the one she’d eaten. I hoped it would be all right since she already ate some.

  “Cherry. They have those where you’re from, I expect?”

  I nodded and took a bite. The shiny, sugar frosted crust had the right amount of crisp flakiness, and I moaned in pleasure as the dark cherry flavor burst across my tongue.

  “Not bad for an old crone, eh?”

  “You made these yourself?”

  “Who else? How do you think I keep in business?”

  I could have named a few ways but kept the opinions to myself. “It really is delicious.” I searched for a napkin in the basket and found a teapot in a cozy there, as well. “You have tea in here?”

  “Of course. This particular blend goes perfectly with the pastry.” She retrieved the pot and poured us each a cup of the fragrant brew. Despite the horse-drawn carriage and the dirt roads, not a drop was spilled. In fact, the entire ride was surprisingly comfortable. I had to assume it was magic.