Rough Justice (Cainsville 5.5)

A dark green cloak enveloped his body from the waist up. Black jodhpurs encased his legs, ending in gleaming riding boots. The hood swallowed his face, and when he turned my way, I caught the red glow of eyes.

"Still me," he said. "However freaky the outfit."

His horse had changed, too, losing its glamour and reclaiming its true form--a massive black stallion with a mane and eyes of flame.

Rhyddhad had also shed her glamour, but I'd seen that on rides before now. It was the rest...I held out my arms to see black leather gloves running up to my elbows, and when I stared, the leather gave off a faint orange glow that writhed like flames.

Ricky rode up beside me and lowered his voice. "You okay?"

I nodded.

"Not going to speak?"

"Nope." My voice came out pitched a few octaves higher than usual.

Ricky laughed. "All right, then. We should probably get going."

I nodded, and Ioan waved to the others, telling them it was time.

Four

Olivia

The horses stood at the edge of the forest. Deep within it, I heard the hounds. Ricky rode up beside me.

"They want us to lead," he said.

I nodded.

"You're okay with that?" he asked.

I should have been. I loved this part, as Matilda did in her time. I should have been chomping at the bit as much as the horses, eager to go, eager to hunt.

Yes, I knew this was no recreational gallop through the forest. This was the Hunt. Complete with human target. That would always be difficult. But this time was worse.

I had questions.

Questions Ioan could not answer. Questions I could not answer without halting the Hunt.

I needed faith. Ricky had it, resolve clear in the very set of his shoulders. Firm but not tense. Ready but not eager, either.

He trusted the Cwn Annwn. So did I. More than I ever trusted the Tylwyth Teg.

So why did I hesitate?

Because I was part fae. Ricky was Ioan's grandson, and more than that, he was the true representation of Arawn. He fit into his role better than I did Matilda, better than Gabriel did Gwynn. Seeing him now, in that cloak, I had absolutely no doubt that Ricky was Arawn in every way that counted.

I wanted to be Matilda. For the Cwn Annwn, I wanted to be her. That was what they needed and what I'd vowed to deliver.

"Liv?" Ricky said.

I motioned for him to ride in front of me.

"Pretty sure Matilda leads," he said.

"I'm being generous. But just this once."

He laughed, and it didn't matter if I sounded like a stranger. He heard me. He saw me.