When the Woods Go Silent (Haret Chronicles: Dark Fae #1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

R ONAN

“What of this have you told Kier?” I demand, getting right up in Marcel’s face.

The fae doctor only blinks slowly. He’s old enough to have lived through my mother’s bullshit, so there isn’t anything that I could do to scare him.

“Everything I told you,” he drawls.

“And you’ve told me everything you told him?” I ask, ready to catch him in a trick.

He smiles thinly, the expression cold and haughty. “I don’t need to pit you brothers against each other. You do well enough on your own. Go ahead. Destroy Aralia while you three bicker over who gets the shiny toy first.”

My magic aches to cut him down, but it’s not an option. Not that I’d be punished for it. He’s just too fucking valuable to waste a bit of rage on.

“Tell Brigance none of this, or you’ll be hanging by your scrotum in the dungeons,” I snarl, and Marcel chuckles.

“Your mother’s fire but not her way with words. I wouldn’t worry about Brigance. He never asks questions of me, so why would I borrow trouble? It finds me often enough as it is, young prince. Now, leave me to my research, or I swear by the Goddess Carlyle that I’ll move my laboratory to the farthest edges of Earth where I won’t have to be bothered any longer by angry young princes.”

I don’t bother to answer him, even though it’s not an empty threat. Marcel is in Aralia as a favor to the Goddess, helping us find ways to patch up the leaks in Aralia’s magic. But I doubt even she could make the crusty old fae do what she wanted without stabbing him through with her horn.

It will have to be enough that he hasn’t told Brigance what secrets Rose’s blood holds. Or hides, in this case.

For now, I have my own research to do. I make my way as quickly as possible out of Aralia and across the rainbow Path, heading a few hours north of Clearwater, to a disgustingly dusty town called Pritchard. Where the human girl called Allegra Rose McKinley was supposedly born. I’d found out that much before stealing her blood, and Marcel’s inconclusive test results mean there is more to the story.

Rose isn’t fae, but neither is she completely human.

Her blood echoes with magic that shouldn’t exist, given her pathetic family tree. And while I’m not ready to say she definitely isn’t the changeling we’ve been searching for, the odds are slim at this point. Instead, I need to look deeper into her past and discover the anomaly that will solve the puzzle of Rose McKinley. Hopefully, that intel will get me a few steps closer to the true changeling.

Because if I had to guess, I’d say Rose’s blood echoes with magic because she’s very close to the changeling, either by blood or the bonds of something stronger.

At the single-floor hospital, I stride right past the human at the desk, completely invisible to her behind my fae glamor. It doesn’t take long to locate the narrow records room they keep, stuffed full of beige file cabinets and pair of humming computers that are pass-coded.

I check the drawers first, finding only a thin file folder with Rose’s name on it. She hasn’t been back to this hospital since she was an infant, according to the record. But the procedure she was recommended to have...

My heart pounds and I nearly drop the folder as I realize how close I am to solving this mystery.

When Rose was three months old, she was diagnosed with a rare blood disorder. This hospital was too small to do the treatment, and they sent her to a larger city. But the recommended treatment described here in the doctor’s notes is a complete blood transfusion from a compatible donor.

If that is indeed what happened...

The paper crumples in my fingers as the possibilities open before me like storm clouds parting to reveal the sun. Young Allegra Rose McKinley is walking around Clearwater right now without even a drop of her own blood in her veins. The tests Marcel did have no relevance any longer, and whatever blood was removed, might have been proof of Rose’s real identity as a changeling. It could be a coincidence, of course.

Or it could be the bit of luck we’ve been due for a very long time now.

Whatever magic Rose had as an infant would have been hidden easily if her blood was replaced - it wouldn’t be gone. Magic runs deeper than blood. But it would be severely stunted, and certainly easy enough to hide from my mother’s trackers.

Of course, this means I have dozens more questions to answer. Someone skilled did this operation, if Rose began life as a fae. Someone who knew enough about magic to ensure the transfusion wouldn’t kill her. And although she would still have access to magic, she would be weak. Untrained. Certainly not the weapon we need.

I curse my dead mother again, as I do every day. Even from the grave, she makes our lives dangerous.

If there’s an afterlife like humans believe, she’s there watching our struggles with a smile, no matter what torture she might be under.

I fold the paper into my pocket and leave the hospital. There’s no reason to go to the other medical center - it’s time for me to confront Rose herself. I want to know why Kier has become so interested in her, even though Marcel told him she likely isn’t the changeling.

What is it about this human that keeps my brother hanging around, suspecting otherwise?

The bookshop is empty when I arrive, and the sign on the door tells me they haven’t opened yet. I’m too early. But I see someone bent down behind the counter, and when she stands, I recognize her curves and flame-red hair.

I knock on the door, and she startles, her mouth popping open in a small circle as she sees me through the glass.

She points to her bare wrist, but I glare and knock again. I can hear her huff all the way out here, but she walks toward the door, unlocking it anyway.

The second she opens it a crack, I wedge my foot into the space.

“We’re not open for another hour,” she says, scowling down at my foot. I bend a knee and widen the gap between the door and its frame.

“I’m not here for a book, Rose,” I say, and she sucks in a breath at her name, her gaze darting behind her at the empty shop. When she looks back at me, her eyes travel a little slower, taking in my appearance. Fae, even glamored to look human, are always more noticeable than even the best of their kind. We’re taller, more beautiful. More exotic, in ways their human features never are.

Her eyes widen, although her mouth forms a firm, angry line.

“Do I know you?”

“My name is Ronan. My brother-”

“Kier.” Her voice is flat now, and her eyebrows lower into a glare. I can’t help but smirk, pleased that Kier has already earned her annoyance. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Not even about this?” I pull out the folded paper and hold it up, sliding my way straight into the shop while she’s distracted by it. The force she’d been putting against the door slams it shut behind me, and she gasps a little at my trick. I can almost hear her brain toeing the line between anger and fear, wondering if she can get to the apartment upstairs before me.

I smile at her. She can’t.

Instead, I walk a few steps farther into the shop and lean against the counter, spreading the paper out onto the gleaming wood. “Explain this, and I’ll leave.”

Rose snatches it, her eyes widening even more as she understands what she’s reading. “Where the fuck did you get this? Are you two, like, stalking me now?” The paper crumples in her trembling fingers.

“What has Kier told you?” I ask, the question feeling dangerous between us.

“Enough. Enough that I want your kind far, far away from this store, from me. And from Ruby.”

I don’t know who Ruby is, but I can’t get past the words “your kind.”

“What has he told you?” I hiss.

“Why don’t you fucking ask him,” she snarls right back, and something in me stirs. It feels a bit like respect, although I haven’t felt that for a human before. Of course, she wouldn’t be so brazen if she knew how easy it would be for me to end her pathetic life.

“I’m here to ask you,” I say, hiding my temper. Anger won’t get me what I want from her. “What did he tell you about magic? About the changeling?”

She presses her lips together in the universal sign that she isn’t going to tell me shit. I sigh through my nose, imagining the fun I could have making her.

“Or maybe he still doesn’t trust you enough to tell you. Maybe he’s been hiding his own magic from you. Fae don’t usually bother with humans, you know.” I toss the words out, hoping for a reaction, but she’s stone still. I’ll just have to beat it out of my brother, then.

I reach for the paper, but Rose snatches it out of my reach. My fingers close on her upper arm instead, and a noise halfway between a scream and a war cry echoes from her throat.

“Leave me the fuck alone!”

“Rose? Are you- hey, get the hell out of here, you creep! I’m calling the cops!” Another human is suddenly rushing at me, much smaller but every bit as fierce as she shoves into my chest.

I rip my hands away from Rose as pain lances across my palm. The girls square up across from me as I stare down at my hand. My fingers and wrist are wrapped in a length of pulsing, growing vine, studded closely with wickedly sharp thorns that have sliced straight through my skin. Magic .

The smaller girl starts to rush me again, but Rose grabs her arm at the last second, the two of them swinging together from the force. Rose wraps a protective arm around the girl, and my interest snags on the gesture. Could this smaller human be the changeling, and Rose her protector?

One of them created these vines. One of them has magic .

“Get. Out.” Rose grinds the words through gritted teeth, and for once, I’m inclined to listen. I have more questions, but I decide force isn’t the best way to get them answered this time. If I push any harder right now, they could disappear before I have the chance to unravel everything I need to know. So I keep silent, staring them both down as I back out of the bookshop, disappearing around the corner of the building in a blur of glamor.

My hand wells with bright drops of blood, the thorns sunk deep, but I don’t feel any of it. Instead, I’m high on the thrill of discovery. Whatever magic created this vine of thorns, it’s not nearly as weak as I expected it to be. There’s hope of finding the changeling after all, and it’s on my side.

One of those two humans has magic, and the fact that they’re both still here on Earth means Kier hasn’t figured out the mystery, either. I don’t care where he is now. By the time he gets back, I’ll have hidden them both.

Leaning against the side of their building, I pull the thorns one by one from the meat of my palm, grinning like a fool the entire time. I may have left the shop, but I’m not going anywhere.

One way or another, the changeling is mine, and the Dark Mother will soon have her heart back.