Dalriada Valley (Borderlands Saga #3) by Jennifer Silverwood

Author:Jennifer Silverwood
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jennifer Silverwood
Published: 2022-09-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

The In-Between

Amie woke in the guest room at Hogswillow Hall to the grating sound of Morcant’s happy, “Good morrow, Jessamiene!”

Her hands curled into fists, and Amie came fully awake, half expecting to find claws instead of nails, fur instead of skin.

The dream had been so real.

Visions of snowy mountains cleared as she found buttery curtains illuminated by a gentle sun, a richly furnished room in accents of gold, and a swift rap at the door followed by, “Jessamiene? Are you decent, dearie? I’m coming in with breakfast.”

Amie smoothed her hands over the silken coverlet as she sat up and slipped a hand under her pillow. The dagger Dameri had insisted she carry waited beneath.

A gruff voice, half remembered from a dream, cautioned, “Trust your friends no more than your enemies.”

Morcant Hogswillow seemed to carry the sun with her as she appeared in a flouncy dress, perfectly coifed curls and a welcoming grin. Here was the woman she might have once called aunt, if Morcant allowed her to live that long. The woman Amie had faced on a field wrecked by magic and chaos as Unseelie took revenge on Silver Hollow. The last she had seen of Grim’s sister, the woman was snatching up another Unseelie from the battlefield and fleeing.

It took everything Amie had not to pull her dagger free from its hiding place as Morcant placed a tray in her lap, and a casual seat at the edge of Amie’s bed.

“Why are you doing this? Why…” She drew in a breath as Morcant’s smile faltered and pressed on. “You had your golems watching me, there and here, but you never attacked us. Clearly, I’m worth more to you alive. So don’t feed me some bullshite about your guilt this time.”

Morcant shook her head as she pursed her lips. “Grim—”

“Don’t pretend the only thing keeping me from nixing you apart is your brother,” Amie interrupted, startling the other woman. She kept her gaze direct and firm, pushing aside the lingering dreams and the too loud voice in her head.

Could you ever trust her, or him?

Morcant toyed with a ring on her right pointer-finger. “I knew Iudicael—your Henry—for most of my life.”

Her pale honey eyes flicked up to Amie’s, gleaming with such raw emotion that Nimue’s voice fell silent.

“My family has never been purely Seelie or Unseelie, you know. And many in the Hollow chose to snub us after the Exile, though we had no part in Bóruma’s rebellion.” A slow crooked smile turned up the corners of her full mouth. “But not your father. Iudicael looked after me when Grim was away, and he looked after my kin. Our marriage was arranged for both our sakes, and we loved one another in our own way.”

Amie recalled her smirking face each time they met in Wenderdowne, her anger at the woman’s many cryptic statements, and grimaced. “Sometimes I wonder if I understood Henry at all.” She startled as Morcant’s warm palm covered Amie’s fist beside her tray. Amie’s other hand fisted around the dagger’s hilt beneath her pillow.

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