CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

“Ida? It’s Liv. I know it’s late.”

“Hmm? Yes.”

I glanced at Gabriel, who was right beside me, listening in. “Ida? Are you all right?”

A pause, and then, with a little more of her characteristic snap, “Of course. I’m as fine as one could expect, being woken at…Where’s the clock?” Something crashed to the floor, and she muttered a curse in Welsh. “Who put it so close to the edge? Give me a moment, Olivia. It seems…” Another curse, stronger. “What time is it? I can’t seem to find where the clock fell.”

My eyes met Gabriel’s, and he nodded.

“Did you have anything to drink last night, Ida?” I asked.

“If you’re implying that I’m inebriated, Olivia, let me remind you I am not human. Nor do I partake in such frivolities as alcohol. I drank nothing stronger than tea. I’m simply overtired, having been up late all week. Fae may not require as much sleep as humans, but we do require it.”

“It’s two a.m., Ida,” Gabriel said. “In answer to your question.”

“Gabriel? Wasn’t I speaking to…? Oh, it’s one of those speakerphone things, isn’t it? Human technology. You don’t use it to end wars and famine, but rather to make even a simple telephone conversation confusing.”

“Ida?” I said. “I need you to focus—”

“I am focused. As much as I can be at two in the morning.”

“Something’s happened.”

“How shocking. I swear, you two should use that as your standard telephone greeting. Not ‘Hello’ but ‘Something’s gone horribly awry.’ ”

Pepper chuckled under her breath.

“My mother escaped from prison,” I said. “She came to Cainsville and tried to murder Seanna Walsh.” Silence. More silence.

“You’re not dreaming, Ida,” I said.

“Of course not,” she snapped. “Fae don’t dream. I didn’t respond because I’m wondering if you’re inebriated.”

“Then so is Gabriel,” Ricky said. “And me. And Pepper. Patrick, Grace, Walter…”

“Walter?” she said.

“He’s not there with you, is he?” I said.

“We don’t always share a bed, Olivia. After a certain age, one understands that there is comfort both in sleeping with someone and in sleeping alone. He must be in the other room.”

“He’s not,” I said. “Go and check, but be careful walking. I think your tea was dosed.”

“Dosed? As in drugged? Why can’t you say that, then? Humans and their slang. It’s understandable if you don’t have a word for a thing, but why invent another one if you do? And yes, I’m walking while I’m speaking to you. I am focused, Olivia.”

“Walter won’t be there,” Gabriel said. “We were with him less than an hour ago, and he was taking Seanna to a safer place. Do you know where that would be?”

“Walter?” she said.

“Yes, Walter,” I said. “He insisted on moving Seanna. We don’t know why, but I was too distracted at the time to argue. I’m calling to see where he took her.”

Silence.

“Ida?”

“Yes, I’m sorry, Olivia. I was just checking the spare room, and you’re quite correct that Walter is not there. Evidently, he’s handling this situation by himself, which I am pleased to see.”

“Do you know where—?”

“There’s no need for you to worry, Olivia. We have this under control. You should all get some rest. If Gabriel wishes to see his mother in the morning, I’m sure that can be arranged. Until then, I’ll ask that you stay in your house. You’re all there, I presume?”

“Yes, but—”

“Excellent. Stay there until further notice, please. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get a little more sleep myself, and leave this in Walter’s hands. Good night, Olivia. And you as well, Gabriel.”

She hung up. I stood there, holding the phone.

“She’s been drugged, hasn’t she?” Pepper said. “She wasn’t understanding what you’re saying.”

“Oh, she got it,” Ricky said. “She’s not going back to bed. She’s going to find out what the hell Walter is up to.”

“And if she finds out,” I said, “we can’t trust her to ever tell us the truth. We need to get to him first.”

It didn’t matter that Helia still wasn’t picking up. We could find her using the phone. When we’d bought it for Pepper, I’d suggested adding the same tracking app Ricky put in ours. With Pepper’s condition, that had seemed wise.

We took Pepper back to Veronica’s and asked her to tell Veronica everything. Then we set off tracking Pepper’s phone.

That wasn’t as easy as it should have been. The coordinates kept jumping around, as if bouncing off cell towers. But we had the basic direction, so we headed that way, with Gabriel driving, Ricky in the passenger seat, me in the back, cursing at my phone. Lloergan had her head on my knee, her jowls quivering in a deep sigh at every curse.

“Do we think Grace is in on it, whatever it is?” Ricky asked. “She didn’t want Ida involved, either.”

“I can see her agreeing just to keep Ida out of her hair,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean I’d confide in her right now, either.”

“When it all went down at the apartment, someone contacted Walter. I hate to say it was Grace, but I don’t know who else. Not the dryads, if they’re suspicious of him. Not Patrick, if he was busy trying to help Pamela.”

“Grace didn’t know what was going on until we arrived. She didn’t have time to contact him. I’m not sure anyone did.”

“No one needed to,” Gabriel said. “If Walter drugged Ida’s tea, then he knew what was happening well in advance. Presumably Pamela’s fae accomplice was motivated by more than hopes of currying favor with her.”

“The sluagh orchestrated it, right down to the minutiae, and when it went wrong, she had Walter there to spirit Seanna off.”

“Why not just kill Seanna, then?” Ricky said. “Or is that what Walter’s doing?”

“By this point, I’m beyond guessing.”

A few miles in silence. Then Ricky glanced over the seat at me. “Are we sure we’re right about all this? There’s more than one solution to this equation. Maybe Walter really did just decide to step up and handle something for Ida.”

I showed him my cell phone, finally displaying Pepper’s phone coordinates on a map.

He zoomed in on the map and then said, “Shit.”

“Exactly.”

Back where we began.

Not the absolute start—I wasn’t even sure where that was. The moment I discovered the Larsens were my parents? The moment I stepped into Cainsville? The moment I first heard the Matilda myth?

No. For me, this was where it all really began. Ricky and me and Gabriel, fighting a common foe, our first taste of what life as Arawn and Matilda and Gwynn would be like. Endless traps and tricks and betrayals.

Twice I’d stood in this spot. Twice I’d looked at this collection of buildings. The first time was the beginning. The second had seemed like an ending. An ending to so many things.

Gabriel stood beside me, gazing on the same scene, his haunted expression telling me I wasn’t the only one remembering. When I touched his arm, he flinched.

“You did come,” I said. “The last time. You got my message, and you came.”

I leaned against his side, and he put his arm around me, and we stood there, staring at the distant buildings of the abandoned asylum.

When we heard Lloergan’s panting, we turned to see Ricky jogging over, the hound at his side.

“You guys actually stayed where I put you,” he said. “I’m impressed.”

“How does it look?” I asked.

“Clear. Lloe’s not picking up anything, either. We’re safe here until—”

Lloergan whined. Her ears shot forward as she stared toward the road.

“You can join them if you want, girl,” Ricky said.

She huffed as if offended, and leaned against his leg. The sound of hooves followed. Quiet hoofbeats, not the usual thunder of them. No baying of hounds, either. When I caught a glimpse of the riders, they were nearly impossible to see, dark figures against the night, no fiery hooves and glowing eyes.

“Go talk to him,” Gabriel murmured to me. “We’ll wait.”

Ioan was dressed like a guy out on a modern-day foxhunt, in jeans and a jacket and boots. He swung off his horse as he motioned for the others to join Ricky.

“I’m glad you called,” Ioan said.

“I need help,” I said. “And I trust you a lot more than I trust the Tylwyth Teg right now.”

“Whatever’s happening, they would never all betray you. This is one or two fae acting alone.”

I managed a smile. “You give them the benefit of the doubt, even knowing they’d never do the same for you.”

“It’s the right thing to do.”

I chuckled. “They got the names wrong, you know. You guys are the fair folk. The Tylwyth Teg…”

“They are fae. Pure-blooded fae. With good examples and bad. The Cŵn Annwn are no different. You’ve seen our bad side. My mistakes with Edgar Chandler and the sluagh. Our own capacity to turn out examples of evil, like the rogue who abused Lloergan.”

I looked toward the hospital. “I have no idea what’s going on here.”

“I wish I could enlighten you, but I can only guess. Fortunately, we may be able to get answers to those questions.” He nudged Brenin at his feet and then nodded up at a raven winging past. “Let’s see what they can tell us.”

Ioan turned to Ricky. “I’d like to take Liv with me. You’ll go with the rest of the pack, splitting up to survey the terrain. Liv and I will ride closer and see what Brenin and Lludw”—the raven swooped, as if recognizing its name—“can tell us, while I keep Liv safe.”

Gabriel cleared his throat. “As you have failed to include me in those plans, I assume it’s implied that I travel with Olivia.”

Ioan hesitated. Gabriel knew that wasn’t what he had in mind, but he only stood there, his cool blue eyes leveled at the Cŵn Annwn leader.

“I can’t take two passengers,” Ioan said. “I meant for you to stay with Ricky. You’re right, though, I should consult you as well. I apologize.”

“Accepted, but I am not certain I approve of any plan that sees Olivia separated from both Ricky and myself.”

Ricky shifted, and I could tell he wanted to leap to Ioan’s defense, but he kept quiet as Gabriel continued. “We’re questioning the allegiance of several Tylwyth Teg elders. I agreed with Olivia about seeking your help, but I’m not convinced I want to also entrust you with her safety.”

Ioan looked toward the buildings.

“Yes,” Gabriel said. “There’s a problem to be resolved there, and I’m stalling. But I’m stalling with valid concerns. What proof do I have that you aren’t involved in this? Beyond simply, ‘I’m Cŵn Annwn; trust me.’ ”

Ioan gave a wry smile. “That’s usually enough.” He took a deep breath and then turned to the other Huntsmen. “I’m giving my solemn oath not to harm Olivia in any way. If I break that oath, my life is forfeit. I will have harmed someone with fae blood, and the punishment for that is clear. Anyone who harms her tonight—in any way—is subject to your retribution. If that someone is me, so be it. You have your orders. Will you carry them out?”

A chorus of ayes and solemn nods. Then Ioan turned to Gabriel with that same wry smile. “It’s not a perfect solution. You can still argue that they are my Huntsmen. But Ricky understands. I have given an order that must be obeyed regardless of their personal feelings on the matter. If I defended myself against Liv while she was possessed by a vision, they would still be bound to hunt and destroy me. We are executioners, not judge or jury.”

“Quickly, then, please,” Gabriel said. “I’d rather we weren’t separated any longer than necessary.”

I wasn’t sold on the idea of splitting up. Wasn’t sold on the point of it, either. How would I oversee Ioan’s results if he was the one communicating with his canine and avian spies?

That was ultimately why I went: to see what Ioan was up to.

Ioan helped me onto the back of his horse, said a few last words to his men, and then we took off.

The first time I rode Ricky’s motorcycle, I’d found what I’d been searching for in every roller coaster and sports car, a need I’d never been able to fill until then. Except even that had only been as near an approximation as I could manage. Now, on the back of that horse, I found what my blood had been seeking, what Ricky and his father sought, too, their own love for motorcycles arising from this hunger they couldn’t otherwise satisfy, couldn’t even identify.

Now I found that, as Ioan’s steed ran so fast the scenery blurred, and all I could do was hold on, my eyes slitted, hair streaming back, laugh bubbling up each time the horse leapt over some obstacle I couldn’t even see.

This was in my blood. And feeling it, for the first time, I understood that aspect of Matilda. Matilda of the Hunt. Matilda, who even in the human lore had been unable to give this up for her bridegroom.

Even after we stopped, and Ioan dismounted, I stayed astride, my hands against the horse’s quivering back. With a sigh, I slid down.

“I need to change,” he said. “It will only take a moment. Then we’ll ride again.”

I must have grinned at that, wide enough to make him chuckle.

“We’ll have to get you a horse,” he said. “It’s better from the front seat. And a hunt is better still. That’s what—” He stopped himself.

“That’s what…?” I prompted as he started walking away.

He shook his head. “I was about to start what would sound like a sales pitch, and this really isn’t the time.”

“That’s what Matilda does,” I said. “If she chooses the Cŵn Annwn. She rides with you. Like in the legend.”

“Yes.” He paused. “Which does not mean you couldn’t if you chose the fae. But I suppose I shouldn’t say that.” A shake of his head. “I’ll change. That will make it easier to get close. But it’s still me. Don’t be alarmed.”

I didn’t quite know what he meant by that until he led his horse behind an outbuilding, and when he returned, I didn’t see Ioan—I truly saw the Hunt.

I’d seen Ioan as a Huntsman in Todd’s memory. Ioan would have been the one who talked to him, but even if I’d logically made the connection, I hadn’t viscerally made it. Now Ioan rode from behind that building and I took a step back, an ancient fear igniting in my gut, one I hadn’t felt seeing Huntsmen in visions. There, I’d known they were visions. I’d known I was safe.

The beautiful roan stallion was gone. Instead, Ioan rode a creature woven from dream and nightmare, jet-black, with flame licking through its fetlocks and mane. Its eyes were red-hot coals.

Ioan himself was a hooded figure atop that creature, his polished boots gleaming in the moonlight, dark jodhpurs blending with the black of his horse. A dark green cape concealed the rest of him, even his face lost in the darkness of the hood, leaving only the glow of red eyes.

When I stepped away, he leaned over the horse’s back and reached out one gloved hand.

“It’s still me, Liv,” he said, yet his voice had changed, too, a sonorous tone that came from impossibly deep within his hood.

As I took another slow step back, I tried to stop myself, knowing I was being foolish, but everything in my gut said to run, run now—the Hunt was here, and if you saw it, you would die.

“What have you done?” he asked.

That gave me pause. “What?”

“Exactly. What? You only need fear the Hunt if you’ve done something that deserves judgment. What have you done?”

I wanted to say, “Nothing,” but it was like when I was a kid and my father would say, “Livy, I need to speak to you,” and every bad thing I’d ever done flashed to mind. That was exactly what happened now.

“No,” Ioan said. “No, and no, and no and…” He sputtered a laugh. “Definitely not.”

I stopped mentally chronicling my past transgressions—fast—and Ioan chuckled.

“That’s my point, Liv. You have done nothing to remotely deserve your fear. It’s ingrained. That’s all. Now climb up behind me. If you enjoyed the ride before…” His eyes glittered and I swore I saw his teeth glitter, deep in that darkness. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”