One could learn a lot from watching people. If you watched them long enough, you’d learn their habits, their hearts’ desires, their instincts, the little things they do when they think no one is looking. Cress had stalked many foes, hunted them to the darkest corners of the North and beyond. He had slayed giants, disbanded armies of elves, and he had taken down evil fairy Kings. He had killed great serpents, travelled to distant mountains, and swam to the bottom of the Jade Ocean. And there, in all those places, he had watched. It was his greatest skill—to be a silent presence in a shadow, a mere breath on the wind. To be the invisible beast of nightmares, the monster under the bed of his enemy, the evil hiding in the closet at night. Always watching and waiting for his moment to strike. He had trapped many prey after learning about their evils, their ploys, and their attempts to invade or overthrow the High Court of the North. He was an information-gathering assassin.

An assassin whose heart had nearly been cut out by a knitting needle because of a human he’d learned far too much about.

Warm light kissed Cress’s eyelids. He grimaced as he tried to remember where he was. When he opened his eyes, he saw peeling white paint on a dull square ceiling, not the muralled artwork of the faeborn artists of the Silver Castle.

Memories of a fight flashed through his mind—flying knitting needles and an old fairy female snapping the bones in his fingers. He dragged himself up to sit, his brows furrowing.

A thick yellow blanket covered him, tucked in around his feet. A cold mug of tea rested on the bedside table.

Cress could hear Thelma hobbling around downstairs. He vaguely recalled knocking on the front door of her home. She’d answered just as he’d collapsed a blood-spattered mess in her entryway.

When Cress pulled the blankets off, he saw that his pants were rolled up and white bandages wrapped his legs. He remembered snapping his fingers back into place and feeling the bones meld back together before he fell asleep. Thelma had gone pale-faced.

Cress turned his leg to see the old woman’s work. He imagined Thelma’s shaking hands bandaging him up while he slept. He had never been taken care of by anyone apart from castle healers before. If he’d shown up in such a condition before Queene Levress, she would have laughed and sent him off with a promise she’d have him killed if he didn’t get better before she needed him next.

Cress didn’t want to think about the Queene now though. He took in the quiet room, sniffing the healing ointment in the air. He could also smell…

He inhaled a whiff of his shirt and winced.

A moment later he entered Thelma’s kitchen and announced, “I could use a bath.”

Thelma whipped around from the sink where she washed berries. “Heavens, you scared the life out of me!” she accused. She lifted her spectacles off the counter and put them on to look him over. “You look pretty good considering the condition you showed up in.”

“I’m exceptional at self-healing,” he bragged.

Thelma made a doubtful face, but she returned her spectacles to the countertop and went back to her berries. “You’ve been asleep for two days. You can’t be that good at self-healing.”

Cress’s face fell. “What?” He staggered toward her a step. “Did you say two days?”

“I sure did, son. Now go get cleaned up. You can help me with the strawberry pie when you’re done since you seem to have your energy back. I don’t want to know what happened to you though. Keep your crook friends and crimes out of this house.”

Crook friends?

It all hit Cress at once:

The Sisterhood of Assassins were protecting Kate Kole.

The Shadow Fairies were in the human realm.

Bonswick…

Cress’s mind felt like a heavy stone. He rubbed his temples over a blossoming headache, thinking of Shadow Fairies replaceing his brothers while he was asleep.

When he realized Thelma was waiting for him to get clean, Cress marched to the water room, shut the door, and cranked the lever on the bath. Steam filled the small space, blurring his vision to match his clouded mind.

Had the fairies of the Dark Corner come for Cress? What if Levress had grown impatient and made a bargain with Bonswick? For the first time since Cress had squared off with the Lord of the East at the Queene’s feast, he regretted his behaviour. Perhaps the Queene no longer wished for Cress to rule the North Corner of Ever. Perhaps she felt only a host of Shadow Fairies would be strong enough to kill off four of the greatest assassins of the North.

Cress scrubbed his forehead and sighed. But a new thought entered his mind. He glanced in the direction of the kitchen, hidden by the closed water room door.

What if the Shadow Fairies weren’t here for him at all? What if Levress had sent them to assassinate Kate Kole so that Cress could come home guiltless and marry Princess Haven?

An agonized breath escaped him when he thought of his human target. How could he have begged Kate Kole to stay with him like that in the alley? He could not decide if he was more humiliated or angry that he had sputtered such nonsense.

He reached to wrench the water off when the tub was full and billowing steam. He grabbed the bottle off the counter and dumped in a lob of soap.

“Come then, Fairies of the Dark,” he invited as he tore off his foul-smelling shirt. “End Kate Kole and set me free of her. I shall be better off for it.”

Cress sank into the hot water and leaned his cheek against his fist. He needed to warn Mor. If the Shadow Fairies were after Kate Kole, then his brothers would be in danger, too.

Thelma would scold him for being out late tonight.

Even though Cress’s judgements were heavy and shadowed, an unexpected smile found him at the thought.

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