Page 5

5

“Not every itch should be scratched.”

A Seelie Guide to Happiness

D espite Nolan’s best attempts to deter the prince, Ronan escorts us out of the pub and onto the dark streets where gas lamps flicker atop curved iron posts. Trevor brings up the rear with Ivee and her cohorts tittering about how this is a terrible idea.

People dance and sing in the streets while passionate couples share clandestine kisses in alleyways.

Love is definitely in the air.

Grumbling a curse, Nolan leads us down the wide street to the square where the city’s well waits atop three stone stairs.

Like everything else in this city, Rosehill’s well is far more ornate compared to the one in Gravale, with carved arches that come to points beneath the slate roof.

Nia’s skirts swish as she dances along next to me, her cheeks ruddy with excitement. “Look at you, Kerris.” She pokes my arm. “You’re the belle of the night.”

Please. “I am only a passing fancy.”

“A passing fancy, my arse. You have caught the attention of not one but two of Rosehill’s most eligible bachelors.” She holds up two fingers and wiggles them in my face. “Ronan has been fending off offers of marriage for the last two years. Something tells me that is about to change.”

As if he can hear Nia’s whispered musings, Ronan turns and gives me a wink. My face ignites. “When we were in the gardens?—”

She snags my hand, urging me to a stop next to a darkened apothecary. “You went to the gardens with Ronan? Do you know what this means? That is akin to a declaration of love. He is smitten, as I knew he would be. Queen Ivee Lynch will now only exist in my worst nightmares.”

Please, the prince is far from smitten. Enamored, perhaps, but that is likely because I’m still a stranger to him. I’m not foolish enough to believe the daughter of a goat farmer could ever win the heart of a prince.

Nia keeps hold of me as we walk down the street toward looming darkness. Unease prickles inside my chest, a silent warning that I ignore. If the kingdom’s sole heir is willing to come here with only one guard, I’m certain we’ll be all right. “Have you ever been to The Divide?”

“Once when I was younger. There’s a bridge the Unseelie cross when they access the well.”

“Have you ever seen one?”

“Goodness no. I stay away from the square on Wednesdays. But one of Nolan’s friends said the sight of them would turn your blood cold. They’re big as giants and covered in warts, with hairy hands and fangs the size of your thumbs.”

They sound terrifying, indeed.

Ronan falls back to drape an arm across my shoulder. “Fear not, Kerris. If any one of those Unseelie bastards deign to show their faces, I’ll protect you.” He pats the bejeweled dagger hanging from his belt.

While I appreciate the sentiment, it’s hard to imagine Ronan taking on a giant Unseelie warrior and emerging the victor. The prince seems more likely to use the dagger to butter his toast than to stab someone.

“What about me, darling?” Ivee whines from the back of the group.

“I’ll protect you too,” he says, but it sounds more like an afterthought.

The cobblestones end abruptly, meeting a dirt path cluttered with foot and hoofprints. Light from the final lamp post is no match for the darkness beyond. We come to a stop at the edge of that golden arc, peering into the night. Nolan withdraws his blade and then nods to Ronan. Together, they step into the shadows.

Nia clings to me as we tiptoe behind them, listening for any suspicious sounds in the silence.

The dirt gives way to a wide bridge of planks and rope that stretches across a black void. The weathered boards bow in the center, as if on the verge of snapping under any bit of weight.

My slipper grazes the stones clinging to the ledge, knocking one free. It tumbles into the abyss, vanishing completely. I listen for the sound of it hitting the bottom, but only silence answers.

“You’ve seen it. We should go back now,” Trevor calls from the cobbles. Ivee and her followers wait next to him, their hands folded as if in prayer.

Ronan snorts. “Why? Are you afraid of the big, bad Unseelie fae?”

“Of course not.”

“Prove it.” Ronan tilts his head toward the bridge. “Cross The Divide.”

“That is madness,” Trevor shoots back. “No one crosses the bridge.”

“ Really? I seem to recall the Unseelie crossing every Wednesday.”

“You know what he means,” Nolan mutters.

Trevor’s spine snaps straight. “Being afraid isn’t the same as being weak.”

“No? You sure about that?” Ronan nudges Nolan aside and steps onto the first plank. The wood groans and creaks, warning him to stop there.

Ivee whimpers from behind her hands. “Don’t do this, Ronan. I beg you.” Florence and Aurelia join in her pleading, their faces drained of color.

Perhaps it is my ignorance, but I don’t believe the Unseelie could possibly be as awful as everyone seems to believe.

If they were that lawless, they wouldn’t abide by a mere rule that keeps them from crossing the bridge any other day. If they were that murderous, there wouldn’t be a bridge in the first place.

Ronan takes another backward step. “Come on, Trevor. I’ll go with you. I’ll even hold your hand if you want.”

Trevor twists on his heel and stalks back toward the glow of town.

Nolan’s fists bunch at his sides. “You’ve proven your point, Ronan. You can come back now.”

Ronan keeps stepping back and back, throwing me a wink before turning around and continuing until he’s nothing more than a silhouette, swallowed by darkness

Raking both hands through his hair, Nolan steps onto the bridge. “Ronan!”

There is no answer.

“Ronan! This isn’t fucking funny,” Nolan roars.

Is it just me or…is the bridge beginning to sway in the still air?

Nia’s grip on me tightens. “Look at the bridge.”

A distant howl pierces the silence, lifting the hairs at the nape of my neck.

“The wolves!” Ivee screeches. “They’re back! They’re going to kill my prince, and it’s all your fault, Kerris Dawn!”

She’s right…it is my fault. If I hadn’t asked to see The Divide, none of this would’ve happened?—

A shadow slices through the blackness.

Ronan sprints toward us, his face as pale as his shirt, his arms pumping up and down. “ Run !”

Nia and I whip toward the city lights, but my feet get tangled up in my skirts and I go down hard, cracking my knees on the road and dragging my poor cousin down with me. By the time we stumble to our feet, Ronan has already raced past, a cloud of dust lifting in his wake.

So much for his promise of protection.

Like the fool I am, I look back over my shoulder to where three distinct shadows wait on the bridge. Not of wolves, but of men.

The shadows make no attempt to follow, but there is no doubt what they are.

Taller than any man I’ve ever seen, broad of shoulders, and dark as the night around us.

Unseelie fae .

“Kerris!” Nia shouts, her hand in Nolan’s as he leads her back toward the cobblestones.

Hearing my name kickstarts my heart, and I hobble to catch up. We sound like a herd of cattle as we run toward the safety of the city to where the others wait beneath the streetlamps. Ivee grips Ronan’s shirt with both hands. The poor man looks as if he’s been chased by a ghost.

The prince tugs out of Ivee’s iron grip and takes a halting step toward me. “Are you all right, Kerris?”

I press a hand to my pounding heart, forcing air into my burning lungs. “I’m fine.” Not that he seemed to care only a few moments ago.

“Did you see them?” Aurelia asks, her voice high and childlike.

Ronan shudders, bracing his hands on his knees as he gasps. “Yes, and they were disgusting. With horns and blood dripping from their fangs. And there were bones everywhere.”

That does sound terrifying, except… I squint toward the darkness behind us. “Were there lights on the other side?”

Ronan shakes his head. “Only darkness.”

If there were no lights, then how did he see them so clearly?