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CHAPTER THIRTY

It’s not working.

Weak minds succumbed to the befuddling effects of Caer powder more readily than stronger ones, but I still expected to experience something.

Instead, the flour-like powder incinerated against a film-like barrier erected by the magic oak tree.

Thistle thorns. You gotta fake it!

With a groan, my eyelids fluttered shut and I swayed on my feet, letting one knee buckle.

The fae king caught me and pressed what felt like a burning coal against my forehead.

His magic! He was going to alter my memories!

The magic oak tree was having none of that, either. Once again, the net of interlocking leaves burst from its branches, creating an impenetrable defense. The sinuous copper-colored magic that slithered into my mind was immediately redirected and expelled.

But gently, so as not to raise suspicion.

“You will fear the grizzly,” he intoned. The Stag Man’s voice was as warm and smooth as runny honey. It coaxed me to relax, to submit. “You will forget everything but the memories I leave you. You will love me above all others. You will remember nothing about your fight with Alec. You will forget about his Celtic mark. You will only remember that you had a nice time at your friend’s getting your wedding dress made.”

The sensation of the burning coal was removed from my forehead, and I let my body go slack.

“Now, Alec,” the Stag Man snapped. “While she’s out!”

“Why not him?” From the way he spat out his protest, Alec was obviously asking after Ossian’s pet.

“Don’t be a child, Alec. You know why. Now do it!”

The magic hunter seized the strap of my foraging bag and instantly recoiled.

“It burned me! Son of a— It must be warded. My skin’s already blistering!”

It took more effort than I thought it would to keep the smirk off my (supposedly unconscious) face.

“You have a knife, don’t you?”

The moment the knife bit into the leather, Alec was knocked off his feet.

The Stag Man hissed his displeasure. “But of course it’s protected,” he spat. “Get up, Alec.”

Then he lifted me effortlessly into his arms. He was gentle out of necessity, not from affection. I released a small moan, head rolling to rest against his chest. Eyes slitted beneath long lashes, I watched. And I listened.

Ossian’s gait was smooth as he strode off towards the castle, leaving Shari’s hut undisturbed. He had no reason to demand the porcupine’s silence since he still believed her to be under his influence.

Daphne was nowhere to be found .

“I am displeased, Alec,” the Stag Man said, his voice rumbling against my ear. “This could’ve been avoided. I haven’t had to dose her since the portal, which means something about that blast affected her in a very advantageous way. An advantage, it seems, you have ruined.”

“My lord, she attacked me,” he said, voice rough from his near-strangulation.

By the Green Mother, did this sniveling excuse of a man never not whine?

“I had to defend myself. She’s getting too strong. Perhaps even for you.”

Ossian struck so fast I barely felt him move. The Stag Man backhanded the magic hunter across the face, the crack of knuckles against flesh echoing through the wide-open spaces of the castle estate’s lawns. He readjusted his cradling support of my legs and walked on as if nothing had happened.

“She will never be enough to challenge me, Alec. She is a witch, primal or not, and thus inferior. Though, she has a valid point about how poorly my hunt is going. I want that tree. You and your Brothers aren’t getting in my way, are you?”

“She lies, my lord,” he hissed.

“It’s not in her nature to lie, Alec, but it is in yours.” Ossian pivoted, releasing his hold on my arm to rotate his hand until the palm faced outwards. A tendril of copper magic snaked out and stabbed Alec in the chest, right on that Celtic knot I was supposed to forget about.

Smoke rose from sizzling flesh, pungent in the cold air.

The magic hunter cried out. “No, my lord. Don’t let her turn you against me!”

But the attack was already over. A flawless piece of flesh was all that remained.

Angry tears filled Alec’s eyes, and it was more than hate that filled them when he looked down at me where Ossian carried me in his arms. It was rage.

“Now you can only receive that which I deem fit to give you,” the Stag Man said, calm and detached. “You will tell the other Brothers to present themselves by midnight. I will be removing their marks as well. And I will kill those who don’t comply.”

“Yes, my lord,” he ground out.

“You will not touch her again, do you understand me? You will not haunt her steps.”

Because that’s what Shane’s for. Ugh.

“You will not look in her direction unless you can keep your own emotions in check. Disobey me again, Alec, and I will not spare you.”

“Yes, my lord,” he growled.

“That attitude needs adjusting, Alec. I’m still of a mind to leave you this place when I return to Elfame, but your obstinance is making me reconsider. Perhaps you should be the bearer of the gyfu-gar rune.”

Every lesson my mother had ever taught me about runes sprang to the forefront of my mind. Gyfu: the balance between giving and receiving. Gar: the spear. But the meaning of witch runes was contextual, like Chinese characters. These two, in this sequence, spoke of a magical process where Shane would use all that magic he had stolen and his life essence to supercharge a weapon. Maybe become that weapon.

It was probably the only way to take the life of a fully realized primal witch—by giving his life in return.

And Alec couldn’t inherit a town of magical folk to terrorize if he was sacrificing himself.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” came his quick and far more amicable reply.

“Better. I have more pressing concerns than your easily offended sensibilities.” His stride turned to stomps. Each cloven hoof crushed the frozen ground beneath it. “The hobgoblin’s trail brought me north, and I daresay I smelled that cat , Ame. And perhaps something else.”

Ame! I hadn’t seen Sawyer’s mentor since she’d snatched that barn owl spy out of the air, and that was days ago. The caliby cat kept her own schedule, but it was strange not to see hide nor hair of her for so long. What was she up to?

By the Green Mother, I hoped a mallaithe hadn’t caught her.

The magic hunter’s hoarse voice came out a whisper. “I haven’t heard anything from Drake or Elayne’s team.”

“You mean those you promised me would take care of the wolf and keep the rest of the Hawthornes away from here?” The honeyed tones of the Stag Man’s voice were gone, replaced with granite.

The mention of the magic hunters that had been sent after Lewellyn and my family at Hawthorne Manor sent a shiver through me. With my body pressed against Ossian, there was no way he didn’t feel it. Murmuring incoherently, I shifted in his grip to mask the reaction.

“ Both cats are unaccounted for but have been quiet for a long time,” Ossian said. “Apparently too quiet. I wouldn’t put it past the hobgoblin to try to distract me by putting me on the trail of one of those beasts. They are not the key to the tree, however.”

The cadence of his stride shifted as he exchanged turf for stone. The glamour of his boots muffled the true clip-clop sounds of his hooves.

“Divide your Brothers, Alec. Find those cats. You all leave the hobgoblin to me, understood?”

From his tone, the Brother was still chafing from the loss of both his magic supplier and the ability to drain it out of another creature without the Stag Man’s help. “Yes, my lord. And what of her?”

Ossian paused and half crouched so my backside was supported by his bent thigh. With practiced movements, he pressed thumb and forefinger over my left eye socket and peeled back the lids. I made sure to wander my eye around accordingly.

“She’ll be waking soon. I’ll deposit her in the great hall and set Carissa to watch over her. Shane needs to recharge. My love ”—he sneered the word—“will need her dinner, but first, a fright from the grizzly bear. She deserves more than that for creating that barrier around the tree, but it’s a start.”

In the great hall, the grizzly bear growled when Ossian kicked open the double doors. He roared when he discovered me limp in the Stag Man’s arms. There was a scraping of claws against stone and then a vicious metallic jangle as the chain pulled tighter.

The fae king only chuckled.

I remained boneless and murmured softly as Ossian deposited me in my usual chair. Thank the Green Mother the heavy clunker of a thing had armrests and a high back, otherwise I would’ve slid right out of it onto the floor. His touch was mild as he craned my head back so I wouldn’t drool into my chest. Then his fingers slipped over the rubies at my throat—probably giving them a little boost—before he slid his thumb over my parted lips.

The bear rumbled warningly but was ignored.

“It’s a pity, really,” Ossian murmured. “Had you been able to be tamed, I might’ve been persuaded to let you live.”

When his hand left, it robbed me of warmth and a chill set in. That cursed blue flame fireplace at my back did nothing to heat the great hall, and I shivered. Unable to rub warmth back into my arms just yet, I strained my ears to follow Ossian’s retreating footsteps. Outside the great hall, he turned to rouse and (maybe) heal Carissa. There was an exchange of muted conversation, a slap, then the magic hunter rose to her feet and stomped into the hall .

The grizzly bear snarled.

“Oh shut up.”

Her footfalls projected a course directed towards me, not the opposite side of the table from where I sat. She was probably coming over to spit in my face or something equally catty to cover up her embarrassment.

When she reached the far end of the table, I twitched and groaned, coming around. When she was within arm’s reach, my eyes flew open wide and a high-pitched scream ripped from my throat. With a burst of green magic (I’d lost control in my panic, obviously), I launched out of my chair.

I launched the chair, too, and right into the magic hunter.

The heavy piece of furniture, moving faster than it had any right to, barreled into Carissa before she could even cry out in surprise. It took out her legs, which wrecked her balance, and wouldn’t you know it if she smacked the back of her head straight into the marble mantlepiece before collapsing onto the floor?

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I exclaimed, whirling around and crouching down to check on the woozy magic hunter. And sprinkle more valeriana onto her lower gums.

Carissa’s body went slack, and I scurried around the table and sprinted over to the bear.

The grizzly jerked his head up at my approach, nostrils flaring. He gave a warning huff, his upper lip twitching to flash me his teeth. He was becoming more bear than man by the day.

Oh, Arthur.

“Easy, boy,” I soothed, offering my hand for a sniff. “Stay with me, bear claw. That must’ve been really scary to watch, but I’m alright. See?”

The grizzly grunted, lips worrying across my hand like they were searching for a treat. There was no treat, so the bear lowered his head for a scratch .

My heart wanted to break, but if this is what it took to reassure him, then I would gladly do it.

“Do those feel nice?”

The bear leaned hard into my hand, his whole head as large as my torso and just as heavy.

“Okay, sorry, but more later.” Someone definitely would’ve heard my scream and would be coming to investigate.

Unzippering my foraging bag to search inside—I had to shove his rooting snout away; no snacks in there!—I found the garden snail. The orange supplement it had been feeding on was all gone, and it was now gumming the glass.

And successfully, too. There was already a hole where Auggie’s acidic saliva had partially dissolved through.

Casting a glance over my shoulder, just in case, I unscrewed the lid and tapped the garden snail into my palm.

The grizzly bear immediately lunged for my hand.

“No!” A zap of green magic had the bear throwing up his head in distress. “This is a friend, not food. Don’t you dare eat Auggie. Now c’mere.”

The bear was reluctant to lower his head again, fearful of another zap, but scratching under his chin convinced him it was a good idea. Quickly, I parted his fur and found the collar around his neck and that heretic fork embedded in the metal.

Time to put my theory to the test.

The runes I’d etched into the garden snail’s drab brown shell glowed brighter and brighter as I lowered Auggie onto the antler. But the snail, however augmented, was still no different than the bear or me or any other living creature.

Sensing no external magic attack, the wards on the collar let the snail pass.

Auggie immediately attacked the heretic’s fork with gusto.

I waited and watched as long as I dared, stroking the bear absently, and my heart skipped a beat as a quarter of a rune disappeared under Auggie’s caustic gnawing. Then it leapt for joy when the snail wasn’t ejected for such an egregious offense and kept on chewing.

It would take days to dissolve all the runes, but maybe only a few of them needed to be compromised before Arthur could assume mastery over his shape again. If he was still in there.

He will be , I told myself vehemently.

The gentle ring of a little golden bell spurred me to take flight to the side door. It would not do for the staff to see me being friendly with the bear. Or see that magic hunter passed out on the floor.

Wrenching open the side door, I found Mrs. Bilberry with her paw poised in the air where the door handle had once been and the parade of woodchucks—minus Ricky—lined up behind her.

The surprise on the badger’s face was quickly replaced by suspicion. “Milady, please don’t tell me you’re skipping out on dinner again. Those mussels and snails—”

“Will taste delicious in the kitchen,” I finished, already exiting through the side door and scooching around her. “It’s just me tonight, and won’t it be more cozy down there? I need to feed Bruno anyway.”

“Y-you want to eat in the kitchen?” the badger echoed me, glancing at the hobs.

The kitchen was where the staff ate, and I wasn’t supposed to socialize with them. If I ate down there, they would have to wait until I was gone before they could have their dinner. AKA, rude.

“I am the fae king’s future bride, and I don’t appreciate being questioned, Mrs. Bilberry. Now you and the hobs will join me in the kitchen and share this feast. End of discussion.”

“We get to have escargot?” Dale squealed excitedly. “In butter and garlic sauce with parsley and buttered toast points?”

Clamping down a paw on the cloche covering his silver platter, Dale whipped around and scurried towards the servant passageway. “Quick, fellas, before Miss changes her mind!”

Smiling, I turned to take the spiral staircase. Miss , not milady . Dale’s memories were returning too.