“Even so, I draw the line at peddling time crystals,” Josiah grunted. And with that, the surly trader turned back to his wares.
Taking that as her signal to leave, Taly started to walk away, back towards the crowd in the main room. “Hey Taly,” Josiah called, just loud enough for her to hear above the noise trickling in from the doorway.
Taly turned back to the old trader, noting the unusual expression on his face. He almost looked… concerned? She didn’t know the old man was capable of something so sentimental.
“Don’t go gettin’ mixed up in that time crystal shit. Hyaline is one thing, but time crystals? You ask the wrong person the wrong question… that’s how people disappear.”
Taly nodded in reply, pulling her hood up to hide her hair and face as she re-entered the main room. She didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention with such precious cargo on her person. As she headed back towards the light of the early morning flooding in from the entrance, she gingerly fingered the brown package. A slow smile curled her lips, revealing the dimples in her cheeks.
“Happy birthday to me...” she sang, almost feeling optimistic.
Taly felt far more at ease once she managed to escape the Swap. Tipping her head back, she let the sun warm her face as she made her way back towards the main gates and the forest beyond.
Just when she was starting to relax, an unexpected hand clamped down on her shoulder, and she suddenly found herself pulled into a familiar embrace.
“Talya Caro, as I live and breathe. It’s been almost a month. I was starting to worry about you.”
Smiling softly, Taly wrapped her arms around the woman and returned her embrace. Sarina Castaro was not put off easily, and truthfully, Taly was surprised she had managed to elude the persistent noblewoman for as long as she had.
“That’s not my fault,” Taly mumbled into the freshly laundered shoulder of her old governess’ shirt. She smelled like soap and perfume, things that still made her think of bedtime stories and goodnight kisses. To Taly, Sarina would always smell like home. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply before responding. “I’ve been where I’ve always been.”
Sarina pulled back and studied the younger woman, her bright blue eyes shaded by a wide, floppy-brimmed hat. Highborn eyes could be disconcerting to those who weren’t used to seeing the vivid, almost dreamlike colors. Their irises were surreal, like pure unadulterated pigment against a stark white canvas. Any hues that may have overlapped with mortals were so much more intense that it made human eyes look like mud in comparison.
Leaning down so she could look Taly in the eye, Sarina asked, “And where is that? Getting into trouble?”
Taly just shrugged, once again fiddling with the twine on the concealed package. She couldn’t really deny it.
“Or perhaps” —the edges of Sarina’s mouth lifted— “you’ve just been hiding in the back of Synna’s cart this past month. Skye says he scented you out on the road today.”
Taly blushed but kept her mouth shut. Sarina had no proof other than Skye’s stupid shadow senses.
The fey noblewoman shook her head disapprovingly, her copper curls bouncing around her. Then with a weary sigh, she gestured for them to continue down the street. “You are going to age me before my time, Miss Caro.”
“Just doing my job,” Taly said with a smile. “Besides, you’re fey. Even at your age, I’ll be old and gray long before you get your first wrinkle. If you get your first wrinkle. I have to level the playing field somehow.”
“Fair enough, I suppose,” Sarina replied, chuckling and throwing a familiar arm around Taly’s shoulders as they walked side-by-side. “How is Jay treating you? Any better?”
Taly couldn’t stop the groan that escaped her lips. “He needs to reconsider his definition of the words ‘leftovers’ and ‘meals included with rent.’”
She felt Sarina tense beside her as the woman gave her shoulder a curious squeeze, feeling for her slight frame beneath the oversized coat. In a disapproving tone, she said, “I thought you looked thinner. I’ll have to have a word with him.”
“Please don’t,” Taly said as she pushed her hair out of her face. “I’ve already told you—this is my problem. I’ll handle it on my own.”
Sarina eyed her skeptically. “How many meals has that man given you in the past week? Including the rotten ones?”
Taly looked away, fidgeting with a lock of hair that had fallen across her eyes. “Laurel’s been sick,” she hedged, wincing when her stomach decided to protest, quite loudly, at that very moment. “Once she’s back on her feet, Jay will go back behind the bar where he belongs, and the issue should resolve itself.”
Sarina sighed, and the hand at Taly’s shoulder gave another squeeze. “While I understand your need for independence, little one, this is a matter of public health. I’ve told Jay before, saving coin here and there is all well and good, but he’s going to make someone sick with his ‘leftovers.’ If not you, then somebody else, and that simply won’t do. So, until I can have another chat with him, why don’t we try to get some meat back on those bones?”
Taly suddenly found herself steered off the dirt path towards a tiny food stand. This place was familiar. She’d visited it countless times as a child, and the owner, a kindly lowborn, always used to give her an extra dollop of frosting on her sweet rolls. Now, however, she avoided coming anywhere near the booth. The owner’s son had taken over two months ago, and the young man ran a disdainful eye over Taly as Sarina pulled her over. The baker glanced pointedly at a sign hanging off to the side—bright, red letters sloppily spelled out “NO SHARDLESS.”
“No, I couldn’t.” Taly raised her hands to protest as she pulled against Sarina’s firm grip.
“Nonsense,” Sarina argued, shooing away her complaint.
“Sarina,” Taly mumbled through gritted teeth, trying to back away. “I can’t be here.”
Sarina stopped, her brow crinkling in confusion before her eyes alighted upon the sign. Sighing, she ran a motherly hand over Taly’s hair before approaching the booth and shamelessly ripping the offensive notice off its tack and tearing it in two. A look of stark disapproval colored her delicate fey features as she stepped over to the counter and tossed the remains at the shopkeeper. The man wasn’t yet 30, but he at least had the good sense to hang his head. There wasn’t a person on the island that didn’t know and respect Sarina. “I’ll be speaking to your father about this,” she said, honeyed venom lacing her words.
Taly felt a tightness in her chest release and give way as Sarina pulled her over to stand in front of the counter. Some of the loneliness that had settled deep inside her started to ease. Even though the way Taly had left the manor had been unintentionally abrupt, Sarina had never stopped fighting for her.
Sarina made a show of dusting off her hands before handing the flustered man two gold coins. He fumbled, dropping the coins and dipping behind the counter to pick them up as Sarina began stuffing several pieces of the most decadent, ripe fruit Taly had ever seen into a small burlap bag.
Handing Taly the sack, Sarina raised a perfectly manicured brow. “And did you really think I’d forgotten it was your birthday today?” A glazed sweet roll suddenly appeared in Taly’s open palm.
Taly couldn’t help but smile as she stared at the steaming pastry. She had expected her birthday to go by completely forgotten. As she accepted the bag, she did her best to school her expression into something that said, You don’t have to do this but thank you anyway, and I’m doing just fine. Failing miserably, she settled for trying not to look too hungry as she took a bite of the roll. The delicious combination of butter and sugar burst onto her tongue, and she had to suppress a moan of pleasure. She’d always had a sweet tooth, especially when it came to pastries. “Thank you,” she mumbled through a mouthful of bread.
Sarina laughed and gestured for them to continue. Taly chewed thoughtfully, savoring each bite of the sweet treat, as she allowed herself to be led down the street.
&nb
sp; “You know,” Sarina said quietly, interrupting her thoughts, “everyone misses you back at the manor. You could always come back—even just to visit.”
Taly winced, the lie she’d repeatedly told herself and others slipping past her lips mechanically: “You know why I can’t do that. You and Ivain were far kinder to me than you needed to be, but I’m still mortal. I’ll start aging faster than you all very soon, and I need to establish my own life before that happens. Like I’ve said before, it’s easier for everyone involved if I just completely cut—"
“Shards, I know,” Sarina interrupted, waving her hand. “You’ve told me all this already. And while I still don’t agree, I’m well aware that you’re an adult now—even by fey standards—and you can do whatever you please. But my brother and I… we’ve lived on this island a long time. We knew the dangers of entangling our lives with mortals when we took you in.”
“But Skye doesn’t,” Taly replied, swallowing her last bite of bread and licking away the remaining frosting from her fingertips. “At least, not in any real way.”
Sarina looked at the younger woman sadly. “No. He’s young and still very naïve in that respect. But in his defense, I don’t think any of us truly know what it means to lose someone until it happens. All mortals die. Skye will eventually have to come to accept that.”
Taly stopped and stared moodily at her feet. While the story she had fed Sarina didn’t reveal her true motivations in leaving the manor, it still had some truth to it. Her mortality was a problem—one she felt acutely, if not for the reasons she had just stated. While she had always known that she would eventually outpace those closest to her—she would grow old while they stayed young—she had never realized just how differently fey society viewed her. A human. To most fey, she was little better than an animal, and after spending almost her entire life under the Marquess’ protection, that had been a hard lesson.
Doing her best to ignore the sudden tremble in her hands, Taly finally mumbled, “I don’t want to talk about this.”
Sarina stood there for a long moment, hooking a finger underneath Taly’s chin as she observed the younger woman quietly. Taly’s cheeks burned, and her eyes felt oddly damp as she focused on the spattering of freckles on Sarina’s nose, unable to look her directly in the eye. She had been on the receiving end of that furtive stare too many times, and though she had gotten much better at hiding her emotions over the past year, she knew Sarina would see right through her.
Finally, seemingly satisfied, Sarina waved her forward. “I have a job for you.”
“What kind of job?” Taly muttered, wiping at her eyes discreetly and hoping that her voice sounded more confident than she felt.
Chuckling, Sarina replied, “I thought that might pique your interest. I have someone that needs to be escorted to the Aion Gate.”
“What kind of someone?” Taly asked suspiciously as she followed Sarina around a corner. The evasive tone in her old governess’ voice was all-too-familiar, and it immediately put Taly on edge.
“The kind that wants to go to the Aion Gate. It’s been a tough year, and our regular guides have all been hired out. You know the area as well as anyone else, so I gave him your name.” Taly eyed her skeptically, noting how Sarina had yet to tell her this mysterious someone’s name. Seeing her dubious expression, Sarina added, “He’s offering to pay you—and provide food and equipment. It’s a good deal.”
Taly absentmindedly chewed on a hangnail as she considered the offer. She could use the work. And while the Aion Gate was dangerous, it was less than a day’s ride there and back.
It’s fast coin.
Completely absorbed in her thoughts, she didn’t notice when Sarina reached over and pushed her hand away from her mouth. She had always hated it when Taly chewed her nails. Looking at the woman in startled irritation, Taly asked, “What’s the catch, Sarina?”
Sarina ignored her question. “I told him you’d want to speak with him before agreeing to take the job,” she said with an evasive smile. “We’re almost there, actually.”
There’s definitely a catch, Taly thought, fighting the urge to turn around and walk the other way.
They were nearing the southern edge of town now, and in the distance, a man paced back and forth restlessly.
Taly squinted her eyes against the bright sunlight. She couldn’t make out his face, but she could clearly see that his clothing was expensive. His blue waistcoat looked to be made of silk, and the clean white shirt underneath was crisp and pressed. He wore black, loosely fitted slacks, a style that was currently favored among the highborn gentry, and a navy greatcoat trimmed in gold trailed out behind him.
At least it looks like he has coin.
Something was off, though. The way he moved was familiar. The way he would scuff at the dirt with his heel. And how he kept running his hands through his hair—almost like a nervous tic? She’d seen it before.
The realization hit her hard.
“No.” Taly stopped abruptly and glared at the traitorous woman beside her.
Unsympathetically, Sarina grabbed her shoulders and pushed her forward, paying no mind to the villagers that had to dodge out of the way. Leaning down to whisper in her ear, she said, “Think about it. Do you really have the luxury of saying ‘no’ right now?”
“I’m not sure if you heard, but we didn’t exactly part on good terms the last time we spoke.” Taly dug her heels in as Sarina continued to push her forward. That was, perhaps, a bit of an understatement. Skye had tracked her down just a few weeks after she had left the manor, and the exchange had become… heated. They had both screamed some things in anger that could never be unsaid.
“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” the older woman replied airily. Even though she didn’t have shadow magic, Sarina was still highborn and, therefore, far stronger than even the strongest mortals. She easily rebuffed the younger woman’s struggles.
Taly leaned back, trying to use her weight to slow down their progress. “I don’t know. ‘Fine. Die for all I care. I never want to see you again,’ seems like a pretty straightforward way to wash your hands of someone.”
She felt Sarina pause behind her and used that as an opportunity to push back. She actually managed to gain a foot or two before Sarina renewed her efforts. “Hmmm. He left that part out.”
“Yeah? I’m not surprised. In light of this new information, I think it’s clear why you should just let me slink off into cowardly anonymity. If you think about it, it’s really best for everyone involved.” Taly, to her great dismay, was still losing ground.
“It’s for your own good,” was all Sarina said before giving her a hard shove.
Taly released a muted squeak as she stumbled forward. Trying but ultimately failing to find her footing, she started to fall, helplessly flailing as the ground rushed up to meet her. But instead of finding herself face-down in the dirt, her cheek collided with soft linen. Her eyes scrunched tight, and she braced herself. It seemed today was a day for reunions.
“Hi Skye,” she mumbled, her voice muffled in the fabric of his shirt. Taly made a mental note not to trust Sarina anymore. Not only had the older woman gone back on her promise not to interfere in her life, she had just tossed her and walked away. From the corner of her eye, Taly could see Sarina’s retreating form disappear around a corner.
“Hey there, stranger,” Skye said softly. His fingers flexed in the fabric of her coat, steadying her, and for a moment she thought he was going to embrace her. She felt a small pang of disappointment when he didn’t.
When she finally found her feet and pulled away, irritation quickly took the place of disappointment. He looked exactly the same. The same vibrant green eyes. The same lanky, muscled frame. The same pale, flawless skin. Sure, his hair was a little longer, but the dark locks were still just as tousled and unruly as she remembered.
Jerk, she thought petulantly. Really, how was it fair that he looked just as he did the last time they spoke while she probably more closely resem
bled a half-drowned alley cat than she did a human girl at this point?
Okay, Caro. Just remember—this man is not your friend anymore. Taly forced herself to take a step back. She didn’t miss the flicker of pain that flashed across his face. In a blink, it was gone, leaving her to wonder if she’d imagined it.
“So, I see you’re still alive,” Skye teased, breaking the awkward silence.
He shifted his weight as he ran a hand through his dark hair, revealing the delicate, sharpened point of his ear—as if she needed to be reminded of his parentage. His every feature, his every movement screamed highborn. This small group of ruling-class nobility could trace their lineage all the way back to the Faera—the long-dead gods from which all fey were said to be descended. All of the most powerful magic users in this and all other known worlds were highborn. And Skye, known at the Dawn Court as Lord Skylen Emrys, was the heir to one of the oldest, most powerful families on the fey mainland—House Ghislain.
Shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket, Taly scuffed the dirt at her feet. “Try not to sound so surprised.”
Skye laughed, easy and relaxed, and a fond smile curved his lips. “I’m not surprised. You were always a lot tougher than you looked.” Hesitating, his expression sobered. “And I’m sorry about the things I said the last time we spoke. I was out of line, and… I didn’t mean any of it. I was worried about you, and I just wanted you to come home.” He shrugged and hung his head sheepishly. “You know how my mouth gets away from me sometimes.”
Taly huffed and pursed her lips. She didn’t know what to do with that. He wasn’t supposed to apologize. Seriously, since when did he apologize? She held up a hand and opened her mouth, hoping the words would come to her, but nothing came out. She tried again. Still nothing. Closing her mouth with a click of her teeth and letting her hand drop, she gave an exasperated sigh.
And that’s when she saw it—that telltale smirk she knew all too well. He managed to quickly school his expression, but not before she’d already seen through his act.
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