Page 57 of The Wind and the Wild (The Keepers of Faerie #1)

“ Niamh—” Mister Haskel says, as if he has any right to be offended.

Briefly, I consider going after him, but I am not quite violent enough to hit someone not as young and physically well as I am.

“ What did you think was going to happen?” I hiss at Blain as he climbs to his feet, a certain glint in his eyes that has changed quite nicely and suddenly from the version of him trying to charm me.

“ Someone stepped on a cursed mushroom and we both nearly died. What did you think would happen ! Or did it not matter since you’re perfectly well when you do not live as close to the trees as we do? ”

“ Your pretty fae took care of it, did they not? Everyone says they all came from the woods and handled it.” He shrugs. “ They must. It is their duty. No humans would be hurt. I would not do such a thing.”

I open my mouth, not having expected him to actually give a half-sensible reply.

He’s no concept of how the fae do not have to do anything. They owe us nothing. Somehow, they are kinder than the humans on our own side of the border, simply because they choose to protect us from their own.

Numbly, I say, “ Why don’t you take another walk with me into the woods, and we can see if they did?”

His mouth turns down.

“ Come along,” I say, holding out my hand with the ruined finger, as if he would ever take it.

“ Why don’t you walk into the woods with me again since you are so eager to take my hand and court me?

Come along, Blain. Let us go into the trees like lovers do, and we’ll find out if our pretty fae have protected us completely. ”

His jaw feathers, and he glances at the few sets of eyes now watching with much less amusement.

I feel Una just behind me and can imagine her expression with my hand held out as it is.

From the corner of my eye, I catch Niall’s familiar set of shoulders edging past the crowd, observing.

His hand is held loosely around the hilt of his wood-chopping axe.

“ No,” I agree, dropping my hand. “ I suspected not.”

“ It is different ,” he says, and his voice cracks against the music. “ You and I know it is different. It was not my fault the first time, and it is not my fault now.”

So, he does think on that night. It gives me none of the comfort I thought it would. “ It is not different at all, and you are the same as you were then. You’re half right: it wasn’t your fault, not that night.”

His jaw tips up, just a little, eyes glossy in the torchlight.

“ It is tonight. You can take yourself and your father and your wagon full of death and your crumbling excuse for a spine and head back to the city—”

His hand grabs my arm, yanking me forward.

I have barely a moment to consider if it would be worth striking him again before Niall has taken care of that decision.

A fumble of movement and I’m knocked to the ground as Niall tackles Blain into the dirt, grass flying and a scuffle ensuing as the watching crowd dissolves into more fits of laughter interspersed with egging on the fight.

Olivia and Andrew have paused on the edge of the crowd, expressions tight, the only others who’ve any idea that this isn’t some silly little lover’s quarrel.

Una is dragging at my arm to pull me up with little success.

Apparently, Niall is getting that opportunity he was looking for.

They’re not drastically different in size, and I’m mildly worried that Blain, with his fighting lessons, might do some damage.

He knocks Niall off him once, getting a good crack in on his cheek before Niall is atop him again.

Blain may have the practiced skill, but Niall is all shoulders and hardworking strength—

A sharp bark breaks the night sky.

The music doesn’t stop, but a good half of the people around us fall still, glancing into the sky and about the field toward the wooded edge.

The men scuffling most likely didn’t hear.

Una and I exchange a glance, her eyes wide and pale in the dark.

One bark could be anything. It is midsummer, after all, and there are all sorts of unknown creatures ready to dance through the dark hours of the night—

A second bark.

“ Niall, we have to go!” I yell, grabbing his belt with both hands and yanking him back with all the force I have.

“ I’m not finished —” he snaps as he lands, off-balance, on his behind before his expression drops.

His hand finds the hilt of his axe in the grass.

Blain, struggling up with his clothes all off-kilter, wiping at his bleeding lip with a handkerchief, freezes.

His eyes slide to his father, then meet mine.

There’s nothing else to be said. Whatever happens to all of us, he is here as well.

A strange sense of justice sparks in my chest for only a moment before there are more barks, and I regret leaving Emma’s house.

There is also another horn across the sky and some low wail of a noise.

The faerie woman.

“ That’s the same—” Una says before someone screams and the mild discomfort of those sober enough to dance turns into shouts of panic and scrambling feet. It isn’t chaos yet, but it may be eventually.

I grab Una ’s hand and drag Niall up by the shirt, and the three of us bolt back through the crowd.

Una shouts to her parents that we’ll be at Emma’s and they should go home with Cara, and I hope with all my heart that they don’t follow us to where Aidyn is hiding.

Pausing at Emma’s doorstep, I catch sight of the old woman glancing out the window, down the path closer to the side of Faerie where I normally get myself lost. As Niall herds Una inside and tugs on my sleeve, I squint at the moonlit path down toward the trees.

Other figures ripple along the edges of the trees, different in their forms than the hounds the shapes of which I know so well.

The singing cut off moments ago, but I search for her shape in the dark, wondering if Aidyn knows her. I hear him saying my nickname just inside and remember that the last time he was hiding out in the library. Why he hid, I still cannot wrap my head about, though I know the reason.

“ What are you doing? Come inside!” Una hisses, leaning out to tug on my sleeve. I back into the doorframe, pausing to catch a last glance at the man I see instead of the woman, perhaps the one who cut the hound down last time, perhaps different. This time, I see his face more clearly in the dark.

Sharp silver eyes slide to mine.