“Not as much as if you’d never been touched,” Saxon agrees, “but the price on your head would still be high. Higher now that your trip through Siúcra’s gate erased most of Rys’s trace. His brand would be easily covered by another fae.”
I can’t let that happen. Not only does that mean that I would never see Rys again, but I’ve been on that stage before. With the roar of the crowd, the whistles, the chants, the faces shadowed so they were nothing more than silhouettes stretching out as far as I could see.
Nope.
I push my mug away from me. “I’m good.”
“Smart.”
He sounds so surprised that I’d not want to drink something that was pretty much the same thing as a sleeping potion, like he expected me to shrug and guzzle it down anyway. Saxon might not be as cruel as Dusk, but he’s still fae. In his eyes, I’m nothing.
So then why is he here?
Wary and suspicious, I watch as he picks up his mug, testing the wine with a few tiny sips. He thinks about it for a second, decides it’s acceptable, and drains almost half of it before he sets it down again.
His hand dips to his lap. From beneath his cloak, Saxon pulls out a sack. It’s pretty big, about the size of a plastic shopping bag though it looks like a dark muslin. It’s lumpy, too, and if the way it thuds down on the tabletop is any indication, it’s definitely heavy.
He tilts the mouth of the bag toward me. “Open it.”
There’s a short length of twine knotted around the top. All it takes is one tug, the knot comes undone, and the bag opens. Before he can tell me to, I peek inside.
They’re apples. Pretty pink apples.
Just like the one that got me addicted to faerie food in the first place.
“What’s this for?” I ask.
“For you. A gift, Elle. Take them.”
“I will.” I have no choice. Letting anyone else know about my weakness when it comes to faerie food… no, thanks. Except it seems as if Saxon knows. “But, um, why?”
He seems satisfied as soon as I agree to accept the bag of apples. Once I’ve turned the bag, angling it so that I can see the pretty pink skin of the nearest apple peeking out from the top, Saxon nods.
He waves, gesturing at the bag. “Rys warned me that you would need them. There’s enough that, should you savor the bites, it’ll last you for quite some time. By then, things should settle down some to make regular deliveries into the Iron.”
I don’t bother telling him that that won’t be necessary. He doesn’t know what my escape from Siúcra cost me, and it’s not like I’m about to share that. I don’t offer to give the apples back, either. I’ve already learned that the fae tend to get offended when someone refuses their gifts. I’m not about to bring more trouble down on my head because I’ve got issues when it comes to these weirdo Faerie apples.
Instead, I peer up at him. My mouth has gone super dry all of a sudden. I wish I could risk a sip from my wine but, yeah. That’s not going to happen.
Rys warned me…
I don’t know what’s worse: that he talks about Rys like he knows him as more than another prisoner, or that Rys arranged for this guard to bring me a bag of Faerie apples.
“When did you talk to Rys?” I ask. “Was he here?” If so, he’s not here now. “He told me to wait for him here. Where is he?”
Saxon cocks his head just enough to watch me curiously, almost like he’s a scientist examining an unfamiliar specimen. “He told you to wait for him here, or to wait here?”
That’s a good question. After telling everyone that I was supposed to wait for him, now that Saxon asks me that, I… don’t actually remember his exact words. I mean, everything was happening so fast and Rys must’ve gone over his plan a hundred times.
Shoot. I’m lucky I found the inn at all.
With a shrug that’s nowhere near as careless as it seems, I ask him, “Does it matter?”
Turns out that the answer to that is a big ol’ yes.
18
“Names aren’t the only things that have power, Elle. So do words. I can tell you now, Rys must’ve made it clear that you were to wait here and you did. But you weren’t waiting for him.” He pauses, then pulls his mug toward him again. This time, his sips are dainty, and he dabs the corner of his mouth with a napkin when the fairy wine is gone. “I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now. You’ve been waiting for me.”