The Heartbreak Show (Bound By Ravens #3)

6. CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SIX

Cian Merrick

“Filena!” I shouted. Dirt kicked up into the air as I wended down the trail. I had no idea if I was running in the right direction, but I had to find my sister. Ducking under a limb, I once again yelled, “Filena!”

Running in a corset was not for the weak, dear gods.

“Filena!”

“Cian?” my sister stepped out from behind a tall berry bush just up ahead.

Around her, the small group she wandered into the woods with turned and gaped at my frantic approach. I barely noticed them, so intent on my sister, until Braelin and Sean stepped beside Filena.

Shite, I didn’t know Sean had joined the hunter-gatherers.

Never mind. I’d swear him to secrecy later. Rhylen had enough on his plate. He didn’t need my weird life colliding into his any more than it already had. But more than anything, I . . . I wasn’t ready for Glenna to know.

I slid to a stop before my sister, my chest heaving, my eyes wild. I couldn’t hide my shaking.

Filena grabbed my face, her own eyes growing wide. “What happened? Where’s Glenna?”

“I need to speak to you.”

Sean peered over my shoulder, his gaze darting from one object to another.

“Glenna’s fine,” I rushed out and Sean’s tightened shoulders lowered. Filena’s body relaxed just a tiny drop too. I knew I looked a sight in a partially unbuttoned corset, in my drawers, feet dirty and face flushed. “Sean, let no one follow.” When he nodded, I gently took Filena by the wrist and tugged her down the path until we were well out of earshot.

“Brother dear?” The pale hue of her skin turned sickly. Tears began gathering on her lashes.

I locked onto her emotional struggle and . . . I could kick myself. “Gran, Mam, and Rhylen are fine too.”

She blew out a slow breath then cupped my face again. “What’s ailing you?” Her thumb caressed my cheek in a comforting stroke.

“The Maiden—” I stopped and swept a quick gaze around the woods, dropping my voice. “Our great aunt appeared to me just now and—”

“You spoke with the Maiden?”

“—and I have to find a fecking Cow of Plenty.”

Filena’s eyes narrowed slightly. “A cow?”

“Aye, Glas Gaibhnenn of the Tuatha Dé Danann.”

“A green . . . cow . . . of the blacksmith?” That translation made me sound even more insane. My sister studied me. “Did you eat mushrooms?”

“I wish.” Taking her hands from my cheeks, I placed the dudeen in her palm. “She gave me this.”

“A . . . clay pipe?” Filena tilted her head. “Brother—”

“I know I sound mad.”

“Sound? You look and sound unhinged.”

I snorted and she rolled her eyes. When did I not appear as if unhinged?

“Darlin’, I believe you,” she said, handing the pipe back. “Start from the beginning.”

Drawing in a trembling breath, I told her about all the events leading up to encountering the Maiden—well, all but how my magic spiraled out of control. Filena didn’t know the depth of my abilities. No one did. Most believed George was connected to my resourcefulness. I preferred it this way. If those I cared about knew I could see into the private areas of their life? Well, that would make things awkward and fast.

My sister’s brows scrunched together. “The Maiden said you are Cian of the Tuatha Dé Danann?”

“Aye. Or I have his magic. I didn’t quite understand.” I ran a hand through my messy hair, my fingers still shaking. The Maiden’s story after her cryptic trail-of-broken-hearts answer swirled in the whirlpool of my mind. “Apparently, Cian is re-souled every few hundred years until he is united with his ridiculous Cow of Plenty and . . .” My words trailed off.

And . . . until he burned for a love brighter than he had for his first.

Glenna’s black-as-night eyes filled my mind. I could feel the press of her mouth whisper, “Mate,” across mine, and building terror twisted in my gut anew.

I wanted her more than my next breath. I had for years.

But if I hurt her? If I destroyed her perfection with my dysfunction?

I had lost myself in others for so long. She was never a part of my future. She never could be, not without destroying our families. But now . . .

Clearing my throat, I continued. “Two things broke Cian’s heart. Losing his beloved cow and being forever separated from his wife.”

Filena sighed. “How romantical.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Filena—"

“Poor Cian,” my sister drawled with a large grin, “forced to wander for the broken pieces of his heart until he finds them.”

Break my heart, Cian Merrick. But I will never break yours . . .

The knot in my gut tightened. “Only for the damn cow.”

My fecking birthright.

Her lips twitched and my eyes squinted. “How do you find this faerie Cow of Plenty?”

I heaved a dramatic sigh. “The Maiden said I need boots cobbled by a leprechaun, thieved by a Master of Disguise.”

She burst into a cackling laugh. Aye, it was utterly, embarrassingly outrageous.

My lips pressed together. “A ribbon from a Wishing Tree.”

“Ohhh . . .”

I flashed my sister a rude gesture, who only cackled louder. “And a gifted Lughnasadh’s Day straw hat ."

Filena winked. “With the largest fruit to decorate any Lughnasadh’s Day straw hat in all three kingdoms, aye?”

“Obviously.”

My sister brushed at a tear on her cheek. “Brother, only you would be possessed by a dead god to find a faerie cow and require new shoes, ribbons, and a hat to do it.”

I yanked her into an embrace and wrapped my arms around her, the pipe clutched in my fist. “You’re an imp.”

“Ew, you’re sweaty!”

I tightened my hold around her. “You laughed at my beloved cow.”

“If you don’t release me—”

“Don’t release you?” I pressed my cheek to the top of her head. “I enjoy snuggling with you too.”

“Cian Merrick!”

“Filena Lonan, only if you promise not tell Rhylen or Glenna or anyone about my cow heist or seeing the Maiden.”

She shoved at my chest and I released my hold a little. “A heist?”

I arched a brow. “Someone has Glas Gaibhnenn.”

“True.”

“Promise me, sister dear.”

She searched my eyes. “Aye, I promise you. Your romantical cow heist tale is your own to share. Now release me or I’ll tell George to thieve every pair of cock boots in Carran for you. The gods’ will.”

I dropped my hands as my mouth parted in a loud gasp. “How dare you lie to George about the gods. May he never bring you mismatched socks again, if you do.”

“Is it a lie, though?” She schooled her face.

“Imp,” I punctuated with a pop of my lips.

My sister wrinkled her nose in a teasing smile and I melted. I loved her wit and feistiness. She had a knack for bringing calm to my constant storm. I couldn’t imagine my life without her. We were a pair, she and I.

I kissed her forehead. “Thank you, darlin'.”

“You can always tell me anything,” she replied softly.

“Aye.” I smiled sweetly at her. “Keeper of gossip and secrets.”

“I’m jealous you saw the Maiden, though.”

“You look just like her,” I whispered, unable to hide the awe from my voice. “The resemblance was uncanny.”

Filena’s face sobered. “Ravenna Blackwing said the same before we parted with West Tribe.”

I kissed her forehead again. “I need to find George and—”

Another gasp left me, a genuine one this time.

The cock boots!

I left them back where I had spoken to our great aunt!

I could laugh as a thousand thoughts collided into a central one that cleared in the mud of my churning head. And I knew. I just knew.

Those hideous shoes were cobbled by leprechauns. They were full of faerie mischief. Probably glamoured to the dandy who had worn them to appear as something else, perhaps even a different color. But to everyone else? We could see them for the awful, tasteless things they were.

And George’s obsession with fashion and thieving clothing—he must be the Master of Disguise. Was that part of his faerie-touched magic?

“See you at camp,” I rushed out to Filena and spun on my heel. Took three steps and halted.

Cow!

Glenna needed milk to bake. For the first time in this strange, mind-bending evening, I felt a spark of hope. I would hunt down a hundred faerie cows if that was what it took for my heart to revive her creative pulse. Perform in an eternity of coin beggar shows, for her to buy all the baking supplies she needed too.

Sorry, Gran. No deer milk for the wee ones . . . or the rest of us, thank the wishless falling stars.

With a smile forming, I started up again—and stopped.

Sean!

Pivoting, I ran past my sister toward the group who pretended to be busy. “Fruit pickers,” I hollered while slowing. “You never saw me nor was I ever in a panic, agree?”

People mumbled agreement or looked to others in question. Mostly everyone in Rhylen’s tribe had grown familiar with my random, nonsensical ways by now.

Though, my actions rarely were.

“All together,” I said, lifting my hands as if orchestrating a band. “I agree . . .”

“I agree,” they repeated.

“That I never saw Cian in the woods or Cian in a panic just now.”

They echoed my words and Sean’s brow kicked up when finished. I winked at him, followed by a puckered kiss as I stuck my arse out in a sexy pose. Filena groaned from behind. Sean, however, tossed a berry at me while biting back a laugh. A berry I caught in my mouth. The small gathering cheered and clapped.

With a dramatic bow, I spun on my heel once more and tracked back to where I left the boots. Then dashed back to Glenna—but she wasn’t there. Or her bodice and skirts.

“The minx,” I muttered under my breath.

A few minutes later, I marched into camp wearing her corset and my drawers, the dandy’s cockblocking cock boots in my arms, the dudeen gift in my fingers, a taunting grin on my pretty face. And George at my heel.

Wait. George?

My raccoon peered up at me, a fellow man on a mission. Well, I couldn’t be mad at the lad now. Not when he was acting on the Maiden’s mischief. Straightening, I continued on my war path into camp.

The smug slant of my lips curved higher when Glenna caught my triumphant return.

Oh aye, she would pay.

And she knew it, immediately shifting into a raven to caw her laughter from a branch.

Gran wiped tears from her eyes. “Me sunshine boy,” she wheezed beside Mam who was also in a fit of laughter.

Ignoring Glennie, I scanned the wagons for Rhylen. When I couldn’t spot him, or Corbin, I pointed at Owen with the clay pipe. “Grab your banjo. We’re hustling the train station.”

Gran’s eyes flew wide. “A gancanagh’s dudeen.”

The strange, ornate pipe? It was a gancanagh’s?

Of course, a Love-Talker smoked—

I blinked.

My great aunt couldn’t be suggesting . . .

The Maiden did give me this pipe with no explanation.

And the Mother was a fertility goddess— No .

I wouldn’t dissect that possibility. Not right now, at least.

“Did you meet a Love-Talker in the woods, lad?” Gran examined my face. “Did you touch him?”

My gaze slowly lifted to Glenna’s raven form and I smirked. “The Gent of Fem better get down from the branches before I break more hearts than her.”

And with that threat, I snatched her skirt and bodice, then twirled toward the train station, making sure I swung my hips in a rhythm that playfully shouted, “feck you!”

Glenna flew ahead of me with a loud caw.

Oh aye, she would definitely pay.