childish stubbornness, Inis caught a glimpse of their mother in her chair. Undisturbed, hands limp rather than clutching the woven black shawl around her shoulders.
She didn’t know something was amiss, or didn’t care.
Inis’s mother had once taken great pride in her reputation as a hostess. She glowed at a full table, seemed to possess a sixth sense for what would make the people around her most comfortable. The woman she’d been then would never have missed a Queen’s sorcerer on her lawn. Would have invited him in for tea, then poisoned it before he could threaten her family.
Bute squared his shoulders, filling Inis’s vision.
“The Lady Ivy wishes for me to inform you that she is very glad to see you alive.” As Bute spoke, Ivy swanned past Inis as though she wasn’t there, holding out her skinny arms for Two. He’d changed his size to that of a normal housecat—rearranged all his parts to a stature better suited for their small home—and leaped gladly toward Ivy with a laugh only Inis could hear.
Traitor, she thought, knowing he could feel the warmth of her approval beneath it.
“Isn’t that lovely,” Inis said aloud.
Bute cleared his throat. He fought a smile, evidence of his deeper loyalties. “Lady Ivy also wishes me to inform you that she will not speak to you until further notice.”
Fine. Inis could handle silence better than questions at any stage. Better to let Ivy stay angry than think of this new shadow drawn across their house. Anger was shield and weapon, and the ladies of House Ever-Loyal needed both.
Inis touched Ivy’s hair as she passed her little sister, teasing out a wild tangle in the back.
Can you comfort her? Inis thought at Two. That was Inis’s job, but in this moment, an otherworldly fae creation would provide better company to Ivy than her own sister. Please.
I know my manners. Two’s voice was a throaty purr, a chuckle in her mind. You only had to ask.
47
Inis
Inis settled in alongside the fae to keep vigil over Rags. She intended to be the first to know if anything changed, mostly because change meant danger in Inis’s world.
There was also the matter of the fae prince. She didn’t like taking her eyes off him. With Morien gone again, the fae was her next most dangerous houseguest and demanded rigorous supervision.
From her window in House Ever-Loyal, Inis had watched the same great-pine be struck by summer lightning storms year after year. In her girlish mind, she’d thought it romantic that this one tree had grown taller, as if to protect the others in her garden from harm.
Now she knew: attracting danger was no admirable trait.
Inis found herself desperate for a clearer image of what, exactly, she was tangled up in. When Two padded into the room, settling like a pan-warmed blanket over Inis’s feet, she decided to take advantage of her time alone with the fae, without the gutter mouth running wild to distract and confuse.
Morien would still be able to eavesdrop. Nothing could be done about that.
“What happens when we find all the pieces?” Inis turned to look at Shining Talon. As the hidden strength in him grew more obvious, strangely, she found that made her less afraid of him, not more. His honest hatred of Morien meant they could be allies. He rippled with reserve, a mighty weapon sheathed. Inis could do worse. “We become new soldiers in Her Majesty’s royal army? Help slaughter her enemies?”
“I cannot answer that. The Great Paragon was not used in my time.” But from the way the black marks at the corners of Shining Talon’s mouth moved, Inis realized he was lying—or at least cleverly omitting some part of the whole truth.
She didn’t ask him to elaborate.
It’s more than that, Two explained. Information Morien wouldn’t learn from their conversation, and might not already know. The Great Paragon can tear open earth and sky, can unleash the same upheaval that birthed the Ancient Ones. I remember the last time . . . No, it’s better if I don’t go into that. Wouldn’t want to overwhelm you. Your thoughts remind me of a hive of angry bees.
Thanks for that. Very helpful, Inis shot back. Was there anything worse than knowing information was being kept from her?
Yes. It was understanding why.
She’d asked Two something Morien couldn’t be allowed to know. He’d torture anyone who knew the truth to get at that truth, and the only way for Two to protect Inis was to keep her ignorant.