I gasped and stepped closer, my heartbeat beginning to flicker in my chest. From the look on his face, I knew whatever he said next would be terrible. Something had happened. Something that had changed him. And for some inexplicable reason, he had now decided to share it with me.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever told you about my sister. In fact, I know I haven’t. I don’t speak to anyone about her, not even Alwyn, who knew me way back then.” Rourke’s jaw rippled, and the sorrow in his eyes was so deep that it looked as though he was drowning in it. “Kallee. She was wild and fiery. So different than most Autumn fae I’ve ever met. She loved horses. Ran in the woods with them all day long. She never tired of it, no matter how long she was out there.” A heavy sigh, and then he continued. “My relationship has always been strained with my mother and father but never with her. I’ve never loved anyone more. So, Queen Viola decided to teach me a lesson, to punish me for meeting with the rebels.”
My breath stilled in my lungs.
“She killed her.” The words came out warbled.
“Oh, Rourke.” I reached out a hand, letting it hover just above his shoulder, afraid that if I touched him, he’d flinch away. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’ve never let myself love anyone else ever since. Never let myself even care. Because I knew if I did, Viola would kill that person, too.” His haunted eyes met mine, and then he glanced away. “So, now you know the full truth. My own actions caused my sister’s death.”
I could scarcely believe what I’d heard. It explained so much about Roarke. Why he’d kept his distance far more than my other instructors. Why he’d never truly let me see if he felt the bond between us. He was terrified of allowing himself to get close to someone again. And Viola had done this to him.
“Rourke. You can’t blame yourself. Is that why you left the rebels?”
A pause. “No. If anything, I was more intent on joining them then, and so I did. It wasn’t until much later that I left. They were’t doing anything meaningful, and I grew weary of them. They liked to talk big and prowl their woods, but the most they ever do is keep a close eye on the comings and goings of the Royals.”
“But I don’t understand why teaching changelings has the power to change things. Why not something else?”
“Like what, Norah?” He gave a slight shake of his head. “As an Autumn fae, the Hunters of another Court would never have me. At the Academy, I have the chance to introduce changelings to the possibility that the realm is not at its best in its current state. Plant seeds of doubt. Nurture those seeds and watch them grow. Make those at the Academy who end up joining the Autumn Court think twice about blindly serving a cruel Queen.”
“And do you think it’s helped?” I asked, whispering a step closer to him. “All this seed planting you’ve done.”
He arched an eyebrow and regarded me with a strange expression. “You tell me, Norah. From where I’m sitting, it looks as though your seed has done far more than sprout a tiny bud.”
I stared at him. “You did your seed planting with me.”
“I do it with all the changelings.”
I thought back to the first night on Watch Duty, when he’d swung around to talk wistfully about the old ways. He’d pointed out the clouds; he’d mentioned the storms. All this time, I’d thought he’d sought me out specifically, that he’d wanted to share his thoughts only with me. Instead, it was just something he told all the changelings.
That horrible weary sadness shook me to my very bones.
With a sharp intake of breath, I stood. I was still wobbly on my feet, but I didn’t want to stick around and hear any more. The thought of him climbing into another guard tower and waxing poetic to another changeling...well, it made my heart feel strangely tight and uncomfortably hot.
“That’s satisfied you?” He frowned as he pushed himself up from the ground. “I have to say, I’m surprised. I thought you’d be much more intent on wringing out as many details as you could.”
My voice was cold when I replied. “One step forward in training. One question. That’s it, right? Well, I’ve heard everything I need to know. I’m just a seed to you. A stupid blank wooden block.”
And with that, I flew from the courtyard and into my room, throwing the lock shut on my door. I didn’t want to see anyone for the rest of the night.
“I heard you made some progress last night.” Liam leaned in close, passing the tray of scones into my hands. We’d all gathered for breakfast in the hall, the war map replaced with trays upon trays of food. The “Lesser Fae”, as Phelan kept calling them, were happily chirping around our table, serving each plate with extra morsels. They’d heard news of hope, news of a plan, though they didn’t know the details of the mission.
The fae seemed eager to put these horrible attacks and storms behind them, a grim reminder of exactly how much rested on my unlikely success.
“Yeah, I made some progress,” I said bitterly, studiously avoiding Rourke’s golden eyes. He was stationed directly across the table from me, which made the whole avoiding thing terribly difficult. But he considered me a seed, one that was no different than any of the other hundreds of changelings he must have met over the years. How many girls had he lured into the forest? Had he used them as bait, too?
And why in the name of the forest should that made me feel so terrible?
Liam arched an eyebrow and barked out a laugh when I stabbed one of the scones with the end of my knife. “Dare I ask why you’re so grumpy about it?”
“It’s not important,” I muttered.
“Yes, why are you so grumpy about it, Norah?” Rourke’s cool voice drifted across the table.
I peeled my scone off my knife and dropped it onto my plate, eyes firmly locked on the blueberries that oozed from the flaky dough. “Turns out I’m weak. The shadow thing knocked me on my ass.”
“I see,” Rourke said quietly.
“Look, I know you’re not happy unless you’re conquering your gifts, Norah, but it’s just going to take a little practice.” Liam rested a warm hand on my neck. “Remember when you first shot a bow and arrow? You were pretty much the worst archer I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying something.”
“I sucked at the bow and arrow because of a stupid necklace my mother gave me.”
“Sure, but—”
“So, I can’t use that as an excuse anymore.” I pointed at my neck. “I’m not wearing it. Rourke took it, remember? He probably added it to his collection of changeling necklaces.”
“His collection?” Confusion rippled across Liam’s face. “All I’m trying to say is that sometimes these things take time.”
“And sometimes, these things were never meant to be.” I pushed back my chair and stood from my table, dropping my cloth napkin onto my plate. “I’m not hungry. Come get me when it’s time for training.”
Twenty seconds after I’d shut the door behind me, a heavy knock sounded on the thick wood. With a heavy sigh, I stared at it. I didn’t know what had gotten into me. I was acting like a lunatic. The logical part of my brain was scolding me for my complete overreaction to Rourke’s words, but the emotional side was still keyed up and ready to go.
I just didn’t think I could face him. Not yet.
“Norah, it’s me.” Liam’s growl of a voice filtered in through the door.
In a moment, I’d crossed the room and let him inside. His face was a mask, a change from his usual demeanor. Liam was the kind of fae to wear his emotions all over his face. He never tried to contain them, nor put a shield over what he was feeling inside. That kind of raw passion took confidence and guts. It was something I couldn’t help but admire in him, something I wished I could be confident enough to do myself.
I mean, sometimes I was like that. Just not all the time.
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, arching an eyebrow. “You going to tell me what that was all about?”
Rourke makes me feel like I’ve lost my damn mind.
How
the hell could I possibly say that?
“I’m not sure,” I muttered, plopping back onto the soft bed to stare up at the sloping ceiling. “I guess I’m feeling a bit sensitive.”
“You don’t say,” he drawled. “Any idea what it was that sparked this feeling of sensitivity?”
I pursed my lips, silent.
“Now, I may be reaching here, but something tells me this has something to do with our good old friend, Rourke.”
“Maybe,” I said.
Liam eased onto the bed beside me and pushed a stray strand of hair away from my face. “What did he say to you, darling? I can rough him up a bit, if you’d like.”
I sat up quickly, shaking my head. “No, please don’t do that.”
He winked, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
I rolled my eyes and plopped back down on the bed. “Right. You’re joking. I should have known.”
He poked me in the side. “I was just trying to get you to smile. It’s not like you to be so morose.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” I pushed back up to face him. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Ever since last night, it feels as though my thoughts are clouded. There’s this horrible, unrelenting sadness I just can’t shake. It’s making me lose my mind.”
Liam’s eyes widened, and he quickly stood from the bed. “That’s it, Norah. That’s absolutely it.”
Frowning, I stared up at him. “You seem awfully excited about my weird mental state.”
“Because it’s the shadows, Norah.” He held out a hand. “Come on. We need to discuss this with the others.”
We gathered around the dining table, including Rourke. I still couldn’t look at him, too embarrassed by my earlier outburst. Once again, the food and cutlery had vanished back into the kitchen, replaced by the massive map and the wooden pieces. That stupid wooden block was right back on there again.
Phelan crossed his arms over his chest and gave me a blank look. “What’s this about then?”
“You’ll have to ask Liam,” I said, jerking my thumb at my Summer instructor. “He’s the one who got all excited about the fact I’m in a bad mood.”
“Because I have a theory about your bad mood and your overreaction to Rourke’s words.”
Suddenly, I felt those golden eyes on my face, piercing through the emotions I was so desperately trying to hide. Sadness over his words. Embarrassment at my overreaction. Disappointment that I’d read our bond wrong. Ever since I’d heard about Marin and ever since I’d shown my powers in the Autumn woods, a strange kernel of an idea had begun to take shape in my mind. The idea that I could be like her, that I could mate with more than one.
But I knew that was ridiculous.
Liam kept calling me a Greater Fae, but I wasn’t great. I was just normal, average. I’d lucked into using my powers. That was all. I feared I couldn’t live up to what they expected of a Greater Fae. And I feared I wasn’t enough for four mates.
“It’s the powers she’s trying to access,” Liam said. “She’s drawing the shadows to her, and they’re permeating not only her skin but her mind. So, it’s twisting her thoughts, making her angry, sad, and morose.”
Alastar snapped his fingers and nodded. “Quite right. I’d forgotten about it, but I believe you’re on to something, Liam. Marin mentioned it once. She said she kept the dark thoughts at bay with a stone she kept close to her via a hidden pocket in her dress.”
For the first time since I’d entered the room, I looked up and met Rourke’s gaze. His lips stretched into a tight smile, and he nodded.
“So, it’s just the magic?”
“Seems that way, darling.” Liam squeezed my elbow.
“Oh, Rourke, I’m so sorry.” I took two steps toward him, and then stopped, suddenly aware that a dozen Summer fae eyes were watching my every move. “Please forgive me for flying off the handle.”
“No need to apologize, Norah.” A pause. “We just need to determine how we can train you without turning your sweet mind inside out.”
“Well, we’ve got to find that stone, don’t we?” Liam turned to Alastar. “Any idea where it might be?”
Alastar’s face clouded over. “Ask the Autumn. He’d know better than me.”
“As I’ve said repeatedly, many times,” Rourke said, his voice transforming into pure ice, “I did not support Viola or the assassination of Queen Marin. I was and am not privy to insider information, if that is what you’re implying.”
Alastar rolled back his shoulders and stalked closer to Rourke. Face to face, only inches apart, I couldn’t help but be struck by how different they were. Alastar was a tank, his body corded with thick muscle. Large beefy arms, thick neck, and a pair of thick red eyebrows that looked like dancing caterpillars. His emotions radiated off his body in waves.
Rourke, on the other hand, was still and calm. His spine was straight, his chin held high. He didn’t have those beefy muscles. He was much more lithe, and he wasn’t quite as tall, but he radiated just as much strength and energy as Alastar. Maybe even more so.
“It’s in your blood, Autumn. You can say you’re not the same, but it’s how you’re born. We’d all be better off without the lot of you.”
“Don’t talk to him that way,” I said quietly.
Alastar’s head jerked my way. “Excuse me?” And then a laugh. “Hell, you’re no better, changeling. Did you know that no one actually wants you all around? You come back in from your human realm all confused and ignorant and helpless. The only fae who ever go to the Academy to become instructors only do so because their lives are worthless or they’re forced. They’re the lowest of the lows in the fae world. Ex-rebels, robbers, unwanted bastards.”
“Alastar, that’s enough.” Phelan stepped into the middle of this horrible fight, his hands held up on either side of him. “I think you’ve made your point.”
“Don’t tell me you’re siding with the Autumn.”
“I’m siding with the mission,” Phelan said, for once being the more reasonable of the two. “Regardless of how we might feel about the Autumn fae, we cannot jeapordize our plan.”
Alastar scowled and shook his head, and then spun on his heels. He stormed out of the hall, disappearing out into the courtyard. Everyone else stayed quiet and still, and my heart beat uncomfortably in my chest as my mind weighed Alastar’s words. How much of that had been true? And how much of it had been framed by his own personal opinions?
Did the realm truly hate the changelings?
And was the Academy really what he had said?
As difficult as it was for me to believe, it did fit in with everything I knew so far. Kael had told me that he’d been unwanted in his home, banished until he found a mate at the Academy. Rourke was an ex-rebel, an enemy to his crown. And Liam had been captured for serving Queen Marin, only released so he could spend his days at the Academy. I didn’t know Finn’s story yet, but I had a strange certainty that it would be something along those lines, too.
Someone cleared his throat. I didn’t know who, and it didn’t matter. It was enough to knock us all out of our reverie and back to the mission at hand, as strange and uncomfortable as we might all be now.
Phelan moved over to the map, braced his hands on the table, and stared down at it for a long moment before he sighed. “Rourke, do you have any idea where that stone might be?”
“Are you certain I’m the one you wish to be asking about this?” Rourke asked coolly. “Or would you rather consult someone not stained by their birthplace?”
Phelan’s grip tightened on the table. “Look, I’m not going to pretend that there’s no tension between our people and yours. It’s been that way for decades, and it feels alien to be working together, particularly on something that involves fighting back against your Queen. But you’re what we’ve got, and we need your help. It’s your call whether or not you want to give it.”
“Rourke,” I said, my eyes pleading with him across the room. “Do you know where the stone might be?”
>
He pursed his lips, his eyes searching mine. “You still want to help these fae, after everything they’ve just said about you.”
“No, I want to help the realm.”
With a slight sigh, he gave a nod and turned back to Phelan. “On the border between the free territory and the Autumn woods, there’s a small village of Wilde Fae. It’s not...the most pleasant place in the realm, particularly not the shop where the stone might be found. The keeper specializes in death objects, items found on dead bodies. It’s possible the stone could have found its way there.”
Phelan gave a nod. “Good. You will leave at dusk.”
Chapter Nine
Liam helped me onto my horse, his face a reflection of the torment in his heart. He wouldn’t be coming with us, but even he had to agree that it was for the best. It would just be me and Rourke. No one else. The Hunters were afraid that a large party might attract the attention of any Autumn fae out on patrol near the border, alerting the Queen as to what we had planned. Rourke had volunteered to go, as he was the only one of us who knew where the Wilde Fae village was located. And, I obviously had to go, to test whatever the shopkeeper tried to pawn off on us. We needed to be certain it did what he said it did.
“You be safe now,” Liam said, eyes flashing. “If the situation doesn’t feel right, you run, okay? And you come right back here to me.”
I nodded, wrapping my hands tight around the reins. “All we’ve got to do is go get the rock and come right back.”
“And don’t waste too much time,” Phelan said from the doorway of the stables. “You still have more training to do with the stone. The longer this takes, the longer it will be before we can send you into the Autumn Court to spy on the Queen.”
Rourke steered his horse over to my side. “I know you don’t think you can trust me, but you can. I’m not going to let anything happen to Norah.”
“Oh, I have no doubt about that,” Phelan mused before dropping his head back to stare up at the darkening sky. “Now, go. If you hurry, you can be there and back by sunrise.”
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