soap on it stung, which meant it was doing its job, but that didn’t make the experience any less unpleasant.
“One should tell you to be careful with your own damn self.” Einan went for a cupboard like she owned the place. She fished out a few jars and returned to work. The first jar’s jellied contents smelled of honey and the second’s of cinnamon as she spread them on Cab’s face, including over his split lip. He soon discovered they didn’t taste as good as honey and cinnamon, but he weathered the treatment.
“Used to be a healer,” Uaine explained as she fished beneath a loose floorboard for something. “That was before the digging started—and before the Queen wrote laws against us. Too dangerous to have anyone practicing the old ways. Only sorcerers allowed to practice magic. Try to heal a friend, and suddenly you’re in Coward’s Silence for five years, a menace to the crown. When I got out, everything I’d built, my business, my home—gone. And more of us common folk dying every day because healers can’t do other than stitch and patch them and send them on their way.”
Uaine found whatever she’d been looking for and popped it into an apron pocket. Einan finished tending to Cab’s face with more of Uaine’s salves. Wiped the muck off her hands with another rag. He had to admit that the throbbing and swelling in his face had eased. It was manageable now.
One yawned. We can’t stay.
Yes. I won’t bring any more trouble to innocent people, Cab agreed.
That’s not what I meant, handsome, but it’s sweet of you to care. Queensguard are already executing a full sweep of the city. There’s nowhere safe for us here.
“What is it?” Einan squinted into Cab’s face. Her hand was big and rough against his cheek. “You haven’t lost that much blood. Aren’t you as strong as you look? Weren’t you trained by the bastards in black? Don’t pass out on me.”
“He isn’t fading,” Sil said. “The masters can commune with their fragments mind to mind. It is a connection only they can understand, though the fae are able to hear and share a little with all the fragments. It is the deepest of bonds.”
“She gossiping about me?” Einan asked, nodding in One’s direction.
Conceited little actress, One said. Anyway, don’t you think it’s time for a plan?
They need one. Badly, Cab agreed. There aren’t enough of them and they haven’t been trained. They’re barely holding it together.
So are you. One rose, stretched, and flicked her tail, eyes locked on Einan. Teasing her, Cab realized. Here’s the news, master. I’ve been talking with Two and Three, and there are a few things you should know.
79
Inis
After Somhairle explained, with Inis supplying any details he didn’t know, why they’d come to the castle, what the owl really was, and who Inis really was, Laisrean put his head in his hands, sat down heavily on the floor.
He didn’t look up for a long time.
At last, pushing his hair out of his broad, dark face, he met Inis’s eyes. “I recognized you. I knew I did. Morien must be stretched thin to let his glamour flicker so carelessly. But then, he’s planning something, and it’s taking most of his attention. If you’ve got the mirror treatment, he must figure he doesn’t have to worry about keeping too tight a rein on you.” Laisrean swallowed, touched the leather cords around his wrist absently. He clearly wanted to say more.
Didn’t.
Instead he faced Somhairle again. “The bastard didn’t hurt you, though?”
Somhairle shook his head. “Not any more than I’m already hurt. No one looks at me and sees a threat.”
“Right.” Laisrean drew himself to his feet and rolled out his shoulders. “Better go back to your rooms, put that thing”—a dark look at the blindfold on Inis’s chest—“away. I’ll meet you there, and your friends. I have contacts. I might be able to get you to them, if—”
Three began to shriek, a high, heartrending sound.
Somhairle’s face drained horror white, contorted with fear. Inis had never seen him so affected, and it pierced her like Morien’s shard of mirrorglass. She froze in the center of the room. Laisrean moved before she could clear her mind, before she could ask Two what was happening, slung one arm around her shoulders and hoisted Somhairle nearly off his feet with the other. He pushed aside the velvet curtains next to his bed to reveal a narrow stone balcony shuttered behind glass doors, then dragged the red cover