Master of One by Jaida Jones

Author:Jaida Jones
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperTeen
Published: 2020-10-09T00:00:00+00:00

50

Rags

Rags had almost recovered by the time they returned to Lord Faolan’s country home.

He’d spent the whole ride trying to move his hand. Weakly coaxing his fingers out from his palm, only to halt when the stabbing pain seized control once more. Breathing through the pain, then trying again. A little farther each time.

Now they had another meeting with Morien, and he’d do what-the-fuck-ever to Rags for any damn reason.

Granted, Rags made it easy for Morien by purposefully goading him. But that felt closer to control than waiting for punishment to happen out of nowhere. He’d do it every chance he got, until Morien figured it was pointless or Rags’s body gave out under the strain.

Whichever came first.

Rags walked into their meeting under his own power, deliberately kept his head down to avoid Shiny’s attempts to catch his eye, and cradled his wounded hand close. If he was going to have to work without it, he’d better start practicing.

Except their meeting with Morien went smoother than Rags had anticipated, since Inis was the first one to speak up.

“I know where we have to go.” She stood confidently in the middle of Lord Faolan’s study, facing Morien and Faolan with all the poise and bearing of the nobly trained. No Ever-Noble could say the ex-Lady Ever-Loyal wasn’t one of them by birth. In her velvet riding cloak, the hem of her gown embroidered in crossed lace swords, she was transformed—nothing like the tangled spirit of retribution Rags had seen thundering up the road to whack Cabhan in the face. Rags realized his mouth was hanging open and clamped it shut with a hard snap. “That is, if His Highness Somhairle Ever-Bright is still alive. I know his health has never been predictable, and it has been a few years since last I summered in Ever-Land.”

Lord Faolan and Morien exchanged glances. Rags would’ve sworn that beneath the swaths of red fabric, Morien wore a smile that matched his lord’s.

“Despite the unfortunate issues of ill health that plague His Highness, he is still alive,” Lord Faolan replied.

Inis nodded, showing no relief or pleasure at the information. “I’d suspected. I didn’t think Two would have pointed me toward a master who was no longer among the living.”

Lord Faolan settled a fluttering hand on the neck of one of his hounds. “Arrangements will be made for your safe passage to Ever-Land first thing tomorrow. His Highness spends all his days there.”

The silver of Shining Talon’s eyes flashed in the corner of Rags’s vision. Rags turned.

The fae’s broad shoulders carried the tension of a criminal lineup, breaknoses and cutpurses standing side by side to await condemnation or clemency. The black crossbones at the corners of his mouth shadowed his frown.

It was killing him to be here, and yet here he was. The last of a proud people. And here Rags was, witness to Shining Talon’s pain, for no reason he could imagine other than dumb luck.

“All the comforts of my home are yours for the night,” Lord Faolan continued.

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