by Amy Miles
The sour tone in my voice made the reaper’s lips twitch into a smile.
“And you? Are you wounded?”
His gaze fell to the streak of blood along my calf. The sight of shredded muscle made my stomach roll. I turned my leg away and stared defiantly up at him. “I’ve had worse.”
Now he openly stared at the scars on my face, but I didn’t back down from his observation. I was no longer ashamed of my wounds. I saved lives today and would never again hide behind my hood. The king could never banish me for this. Not when people witnessed my aid.
He’d find another way to take me out.
“You should let me tend to your wounds.” The man moved closer to me.
“Ya have a few of your own that look a wee bit nasty,” I pointed out and held up a hand to stop him. “There are others wounded in the hall. They’ll be needing your help. I’m fine.”
A smirk tugged at his lips as he cocked his head to the side and surveyed me. “Yes, I suppose you are.”
I eased my weight off my leg and leaned against the desk for support. “Are you mocking me?”
“On the contrary, I admire your courage.” When he shook his head, I noticed light auburn streaks in his dark hair. “At least let me give you something for the pain.”
I grabbed the leather pouch of herbs that he tossed at me and then snatched Conall’s cloak off the floor. My arms ached when I tore the garment and dipped low to bind my wound with a sprinkling of the dried herbs to slow the bleeding. There was a powerful concoction that would generate a rapid healing.
When I looked up I noticed his gaze had fallen on the low cut of my halter. I rolled my eyes. “Thank you for the herbs, but you can shove off now. I couldn’t care less what you admire and I’ll thank you to keep your eyes on my face instead of my chest.”
“Is that so?” He shifted his weight and ran his hand through his hair. Flecks of black fell free and I looked closer to see that his breastplate was coated in fresh Lorcan blood. “Well, now that is unusual.”
“Why is that?” Testing my leg to make sure I was capable of walking, I took a step towards him in challenge. The first step was excruciating, but I refused to let him see the pain on my face as I reached down to retrieve my blade.
“People typically take greater care when speaking with their prince. Especially when that someone has been discovered wearing illegal leathers and wielding a blade in a manner unfitting for a woman.”
How did I not recognize him? Beneath the scars and ropes of muscle, I saw a hint of his former swagger in his smirk.
“You’re Aed? Shite.” It was too late to hide anything. The evidence before him had already damned me.
“I heard you were returning to throw a grand ball in your honour. And to pick a wee wife as well. Must be terribly exciting for you to have the whole city lusting after you,” I said, pressing my shoulders back to shove aside my mounting dread. “Looks like you had a rough journey. I’m sure you’ll have an oil bath and servants waiting to tend to your every need when you return to your castle.”
I tried to push past him, but he took hold of my arm and forced me to stop.
“My return was not by choice. I have orders to follow like all the rest. And yes, my journey was difficult. I was tracking a group of Lorcan with a small group of soldiers.”
His face grew grim and I knew he’d lost men along the way.
“I’m sorry.” I leaned heavily on my good leg. The blood loss was starting to go to my head. “Did you get them all?”
“I believe so.” He nodded. “It’s possible that one slipped through, but our reapers are scouring the city.”
“So it’s true. They have found a way over the Wall.”
His gaze narrowed. “True? Has my father spoken of the war?”
“War?” I laughed. “According to the royals there is no war. There is no threat. There are only lies and cover-ups.” I yanked my arm out of his grip. “Your father denies everything.”
Prince Aed stared long and hard at me. His jaw flinched before he spoke again. “Accusing the king is no small thing.”
I limped forward again, closing the distance between us. The herbs had already begun to ease the stabbing pains in my leg. “Only if what I say is untrue. You arriving here during a Lorcan attack seems to imply that I’m right, don’t ya think?”
For a second, I wondered if he would strike me for speaking so boldly, but instead, he threw back his head and laughed. “What’s your name, girl?”
“And have ya running to your father to tattle on me?” I shifted until I was standing toe to toe with him. I didn’t know what possessed me to do this; to stand in such open defiance of him, but I needed him to know I wasn’t just some girl playing dress-up. “I risked my life for the truth. Will ya take it now by ratting me out?”
He frowned. “I have no desire to see you harmed. Especially not after having shown such bravery on the battlefield.”
I looked around me at the carnage in this room and beyond. Yes, this was a battlefield.
“You may keep your name to yourself for the time being,” he said. “I would offer a word of caution for the next time we meet. There are few here who will allow such words spoken in public.”
“I know that all too well. It seems I have a nose for trouble.” I rubbed my thumb along the scars on my cheek. His gaze followed. “I have your da to thank for these.”
Aed’s eyes narrowed. “Those are Lorcan wounds.”
“Aren’t you the smart lad? Figure out how that came to be then.”
I started to turn away.
“Stop! If my father ordered an attack on you, that means you are in grave danger.”
“You almost sound like ya care.” I looked back over my shoulder. “There ya stand, with that same fire in your eyes that I have boiling in my own chest. What are ya planning on doin’ about it then? Will ya fight? Will ya lead us?”
Anger flashed across his face. “My father is the king. Standing up against him is treasonous. Do not forget that, girl.”
“People I knew died out in that hallway and he did nothin’ to stop it. He’s the one in control of the deaths around these parts. Tell me how he didn’t know this was going to happen then. How your men would die on your journey here. Mark my words. Come tomorrow no one will know what happened here.”
“They will.”
I laughed. “Ya think too kindly of your father.”
“He is our king.”
“And a right bad one at that,” I snapped. “Can ya look me in the eye and tell me he’s not a monster?”
Prince Aed’s mouth opened to protest, but he said nothing.
“Even you can’t defend him, can ya, Aed?”
“That’s Prince Aed.” His face flushed and his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
“You are no prince to me unless ya earn it. I’ve heard tales of you from the Wall. Tales that say you are strong and fierce, but are ya also compassionate? Can ya choose to save your people from the greed of having a crown on your head?”
“How dare you?” He yanked on my arm. I cried out when my knee buckled and he scooped me into his arms before I could fall. He fought to stifle his anger in the sight of my pain. “Are you always this feisty?”
“Only with people I don’t like.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I don’t have to. Your self-righteous anger proves that you are not the man I hoped. You are nothing more than the womanizing brat ya used to be.”
He spoke through clenched teeth, “Reputations have a way of being false.”
“Then prove it.”
Setting me gently on the ground once more, I was glad to be free of his arms.
“You will be at the ball, I assume?” he said. “I shall see you there and we can continue this conversation away from prying ears.”
I looked down at Conall, who had retreated once more. “Don’t count on it.”
I turned my back on him and limped into the hallway, slowly picking my
way through the bodies. The space was now filled with reapers. The screaming had ended, but Tris was nowhere to be seen.
Hurrying as fast as my leg would allow to get to the ferry, I saw that the main ferry boat was missing. A smaller one was just floating away from shore, but appeared to be empty.
“That’s odd.” I turned to tell a reaper that they would need to go and retrieve the boat that had become unmoored, but just then, the hulking shape of a Lorcan stepped up to hull. It turned to look back at me just before it disappeared through the veil and into the human realm.
“Shite.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DEVLIN
I WAS FEELING LIKE an arse the morning after the fight I’d had with Ma about the university. I’d behaved like a child when I stormed off. She was only trying to help me go after my dreams. Or what used to be my dreams. Now that Alana was gone, I didn’t know what I wanted to do anymore. There was too much to process and her shoving me across an ocean wasn’t going to get me to come to terms with them any faster.
One thing was clear. I needed to get out of my own way and begin to make amends for my actions. Starting with my poor studio. I had yet to see the destruction in the light of day. I took a deep breath and made my way over to the door.
The loud creak it made as I opened it reverberated in my ears. A few beams of sunlight made their way through the window, illuminating the war zone I’d left behind in my rage. Shards of broken pottery lined the benches and floors. Shelves lay bare. Months of work turned to dust in a matter of minutes. Devlin, you daft idiot!
Sighing, I grabbed the dustpan hanging from a nail near the door and started sweeping off my worktable. Large chunks of broken pottery came crashing to the ground, kicking up copper-coloured clouds. The shattered clay greeted the rest of the terracotta carnage below. The dust was so thick that I had to prop my door open to let in some fresh air.
“This is not going to be easy,” I said, digging out the trash bags I had stored in my supply closet. “Nor is this going to be anywhere near enough bags.”
Using the edge of my shirt, I wiped the sweat off my brow.
“Devlin? You in there, lad?”
It was Da. I hadn’t confronted him since my argument with Ma, which I was sure she told him all about.
“Aye,” I replied, putting the trash bags on the table.
Da came in and looked around the studio and let out a long, slow whistle. I scratched the back of my neck, embarrassed.
“I thought breaking your ma’s china after the wake was bad, but this”—he waved his hand around—“you’ve outdone me, lad.”
“Pretty dumb, eh?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
Da walked around the room, kicking at a bit of broken pottery. “Well, that depends, son. Does it hurt less now?”
I stood up and walked over to the window and gazed out over the field that led into the woods. A large bird of prey flew overhead and the soft sound of wind rattled against the windowpane. There was a sense of calm standing here. Peace.
“I think so,” I said. A moment later I felt Da’s hand on my shoulder. Strong and reassuring.
“Your mother told me about the university.”
I lowered my head. I had been waiting for this lecture.
“Devlin, whether you go to university or not, that’s not my concern.”
I shot an eyebrow up at him.
“It’s your life, son. You have to do what’s best for you.”
I nodded, pondering his words. “Thanks, Da. I’m a bit of a mess right now. I’m not so sure school is the best place for me. Especially around breakable things,” I said, gesturing to the rubble.
“That may be true,” he agreed. “The broken clay doesn’t concern me, though. I’m more worried about the broken bits of your heart.”
“Aye,” I whispered.
“Have you made your peace with her?”
“Ma? Not yet. I owe her an apology, I suppose.”
He shook his head. “Yes, you do, but I was referring to Alana.”
I stood frozen, not sure what to say.
“Son, you need to bury the guilt you feel. It’s not your fault. No matter how much you may have convinced yourself of it. God saw fit to bring her to His kingdom. We need to accept that before any true healing can begin.”
Da gave my shoulder another squeeze before turning to leave. Before he did, he hovered in the door. “Take the day off work. Finish getting your studio back in order so you can replace what you’ve broken. Then, when that’s finished, go to Alana. You need this closure so you can move on with your life.” Our eyes locked in understanding. With that, he shut the door, leaving me in the shadow of my studio walls.
I took Da’s advice and spent the rest of the day putting my shop back together. I ordered more clay and emptied bin after bin of my pent-up rage. Before I knew it, Ma was calling me into dinner.
After I’d washed up, I approached her in the kitchen. Her eyes were still red, either over Alana or me. She wouldn’t meet my gaze, so I took her hand and brought it to my heart, and in that one gesture, all was forgiven. Her eyes softened and she nodded her understanding. I still hadn’t made up my mind about the university, but maybe a heart-to-heart with Alana would make it clearer.
Throughout dinner, I couldn’t help but wonder about Seamus. I’d tried to text and call all day to apologize, but he wasn’t answering. Something didn’t feel right. I needed to track him down.
Ma interrupted my worry with a request for the potatoes. The smell of the garlic mashed inside wafted across the table with the bowl. Dabbing the edges of my mouth with my napkin, I cleared my throat.
“Um, I thought after dinner, I’d go to the cemetery. Thought I’d hunt Seamus down, take him with me.”
She looked from me to Da.
He nodded his head as he chewed. “Good idea, son.”
“But there’s pie.” Ma frowned. “Would you like me to save you a slice?”
I smiled like a lad at Christmas. “No. I’ll stay for pie and help you clean up before I go. How about that?”
“That would be lovely,” she said with a voice thick with emotion.
After filling our faces with warm apples and sugar, Ma brought out the tea kettle, and we all talked for a while. About Alana, mostly, but I could see that it was upsetting Ma, so I opted to change the subject.
“Ma, have you heard any more about Ms. Daly?”
Da put his cup down. “Wait, she was the librarian who went mental, right?”
“Aye, she’s down in Belfast for treatment,” Ma said. “They’ve given her electroshock treatment from what I heard.”
“Really?” Da asked.
She nodded, her eyes aglow with gossip. “Aye, well, she had a visit from a sister who flew over from London to see her...” Ma crossed herself. “She said her sister still believes there’s something after her. She swears she can still feel claws on her legs, but there’s nothing there.”
“So she saw something attacking her?” I asked.
Ma nodded. “Her sister was a wreck about it. She won’t go back. Too upsetting.”
I put my tea down as well, uneasy by the similarities I’d had with Ms. Daly. I hadn’t felt any claws, but I’d certainly seen things others hadn’t.
“I heard the tele saying that the same sort of thing is happening all over Ireland.” Ma’s eyes widened a bit.
“There was a nurse at the hospital who had to be sedated recently too,” I said quietly, remembering Mrs. Child’s incident the day I first saw Taryn.
“I hope it’s not contagious.” Ma gasped.
Da waved his hand at her. “Mental illness isn’t contagious, you daft woman.”
The conversation was freaking me out, so I took that as my opportunity to leave.
“Well, I’m gonna head to the cemetery before it gets too dark.” I glanced at the clock. It was already past seven.
“Wear a jacket and stick to the main road! The spirits walk at night,” Ma warned.
Tucking Alana’s scarf inside my jacket, I zipped myself in and shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my jeans.
I had to find Seamus. Though our relationship wasn’t as strong as it had been before Alana got sick, we were still mates. I didn’t like the way we ended things. He had a temper and I didn’t want him going off on someone when his anger should be directed at me.
The flat where he still lived with his da wasn’t that far of a walk. Seamus had come to my house more times than I cared to count in the dead of the night needing a place to crash. His da had taken to the bottle after his ma died. Seamus got his temper from him. Mr. Duffy would get physical when he drank, which was why Seamus came to us. My folks never knew how bad it got. Seamus refused to even tell me, but I could see it in his eyes and in the bruises he tried to hide.
I never understood why Seamus didn’t go off to university. He could be free of him. Get a good paying job. I suspected he didn’t believe in himself enough to put in the effort. His da had likely done a number on his self-confidence over the years. It was hard to see out of a tunnel when you couldn’t find the light. I knew that all too well.
Their place was easy to spot as it was the only flat in the neighbourhood that looked as though it were vacant. Weeds grew up through the sidewalk, cigarette butts overflowed from a coffee can placed on the step, and the trash bins were always full. They had both stopped caring about the appearance of the flat the day Seamus’ ma passed.
The reputation he had because of his house and his da, for that matter, got Seamus into more than a few fights in school. Kids were relentless in their torment, which was another reason why Seamus took to the gym as hard as he did. He was more than ready to knock the lights out of anyone who looked at him funny.
I took the three steps up to his door and was about to knock when I saw Mr. Duffy through the window. He was in his usual spot; his recliner, the glow of the tele illuminating his slumped body. A beer bottle was dangling precariously from limp fingers. He’d passed out. Annoyed, I looked upwards to see if Seamus’ light was on. Nothing but darkness greeted me. If his da had gotten that shit-faced, there was no way Seamus would have stuck around for that.