Page 83 of Cursed Shadows 5

Between the honour duel, Nari in the Sacrament, and Aleana’s deterioration into death, Eamon gave little thought to anyone outside of Kithe.

He wears the guilt of it, of leaving her behind, in the downturn of his mouth and the sorrowed weight of his lashes. Just as he wears the sorrow of Dare learning Bee’s true name, the name he kept hidden from him.

“Promise me,” Eamon starts and offers his hand, palm-up, “that you will even abandon your unit if you must—to track her and return her to our realm. You do that, and I will give you a share of my tavern.”

The boldness of the offer strikes between them.

A share in a tavern, one with a two bedchambered, private dwelling above it, that is enough to qualify for landlordship. In Kithe, that makes a lord. A small, slight lord without power beyond the right to live in Kithe and speak on honour duels, but the cost of land and homes and establishments in Kithe rivals the Royal Court itself.

The power of the tavern share isn’t something Dare overlooks. And, in the end, wasn’t he always going to hunt her down? Perhaps he wasn’t going to defect from his unit and risk the wrath of General Agnar… but it might be worth it.

Might not.

Dare runs the tip of his tongue over the sharp bite of his teeth. “What is the share?”

Eamon narrows his eyes. “One tenth.”

His upper lip curls before he barters, “You want me to abandon my unit if I must and, by consequence, face lashes from none other than General Agnar. One sixth share of your tavern, nothing less. What is the value of the kinta’s life to you?”

Eamon’s jaw tightens. “Fine,” he grits out the word. “One sixth.”

Dare eyes the upturned bronzed hand for a moment before the slap of palms claps through the abandoned dwelling. They grip, strong, then squeeze to confirm their bargain, the fae promise between them.

Dare tugs back and turns for the window. He hits out at the thick curtain, and it sweeps aside.

“Not that I don’t trust your instincts,” Eamon says, careful, “but I must ask how you mean to find her. That is alargelandmass.”

Dare’s smile is small, aimed at the window. “Do you know my fae trait, Eamon?”

“Tracking?”

He shakes his head just a touch, but the movement is enough to loosen a wavy strand of hair. It falls into his face, carved from marble.

“It isoffate.”

Eamon is still for a moment. “Fate?”

“A royal prince of Dorcha has the same,” Dare says with a small smile. “I know of him—and one other with this trait.”

“What does that mean,of fate?”

“An extra sense that others do not have,” he starts with a shrug, “a whisper in the mind, the touch of a god, evolution—who knows what these traits are, the meaning behind them…” Dare wanders the dining room, pausing to flick through more papers, stopping at the stack of boxed birdseed. “Ever since I was a youngling, I had this niggle in my mind. Once, I was lost in the woods… and that niggle urged me onto the right paths, the right trails. I made it home without a scratch. My mother didn’t even know I had been lost at all. So many villagers take to swimming each phase in the swells. I am often one of them. One morning, I knew not to go to the shore. I told my mother, and of course she trusted me enough, suspected my trait, and she stopped my father from tending to the boat. An unpredicted swell took the shore within the hour, wiped out a quarter of our villagers.”

“Morning?” Eamon interrupts. “Aiteal is not in darkness?”

“Yes,” Dare says, uncertainty tilting his head. “It is in darkness, but the lower landmass of the Midlands sort of…” he lifts his hand and curves it in a swipe, “curls closer to Licht across the sea. Aiteal isn’t in the light, but we see it. We see pink skies in the morning, out on the sea’s horizon. We see grey throughout the day—and red at night before it’s black again.In Aiteal, we use both time measurements, day and night, and phase.”

Eamon’s brows are lifted too high. “It’s no wonder Samick chose Aiteal to be his home,” he finally says. “It sounds lovely.”

“Charming, yes. Small, very.” Dare nods. “Before you get any ideas, no lands are for sale. The last lot went to Samick in a generous bid.”

Eamon smiles. “I’m comfortable with Kithe.”

“Are you comfortable letting fate lead me to the kinta?”

“Whatexactlydo you mean by that, Dare? Why haven’t you found her already if fate leads you?”

Dare’s mouth flattens in thought. “I could have returned for Bee before the second passage,” he says. “I could have gotten my revenge and my gold before the Sacrament ended. I waited. I waited, because fate told me to. A patience nestled in me—and it saidnot yet.So when the patience lifted, and I travelled to your village,hervillage, I expected to find her. Never has my trait failed me… I came here… and I failed again.”

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