smile didn’t falter. “Ah, yes. Your Unseelie prince. Do you really think you’ll be able to keep him once you realize who you really are? Do you think he will even want you anymore?”
“What do you know about that? You’re just a dream—a nightmare, really.”
“No, my love.” Machina shook his head. “I am the part of you that you cannot bring yourself to accept. And as long as you keep denying me, you will never understand your true potential. Without me, you will never be enough to defeat the false king.”
“I’ll take my chances.” Narrowing my eyes, I stabbed a finger at him. “And now, I think it’s time you went away. This is my dream, and you’re not welcome here. Get out.”
Machina shook his head sadly. “Very well, Meghan Chase. If you decide you need me after all—and you will—I will be right here.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” I mumbled, and my own voice woke me up.
I BLINKED AND RAISED my head from the pillow. The room was dark, but outside the round loft window, gray light filtered in from a brightening sky. Ash was gone and the space beside me was cold. He’d left sometime during the night.
The scent of bacon drifted up from below, and my stomach grumbled a response. I headed downstairs, wondering who was cooking at such an early hour. The image of Ash flipping pancakes in a white apron came to mind, and I giggled hysterically as I entered the kitchen.
Ash wasn’t there, and neither was Puck, but Grimalkin looked up from a table laden with food. Eggs, pancakes, bacon, biscuits, fruit, and oatmeal covered every surface of the tabletop, along with whole pitchers of milk and orange juice. Grimalkin, sitting on the corner, blinked at me once, then went back to dunking his paw in a glass of milk and licking it off.
“What is all this?” I asked, amazed. “Did Dad cook? Or …
Ash?”
Grimalkin snorted. “Those two? I shudder to think of the consequences. No, Leanansidhe’s brownies took care of this, just like they have cleaned your room and made your bed by now.” He observed the opaque white droplets on his paw and flicked them off rapidly.
“Where is everyone?”
“The human is still asleep. Goodfellow has not returned, though I am sure he will sometime in the future, probably with the ire of all the local fey on his heels.”
“I don’t care what Puck does. He can get eaten by trolls for all I care.” Grimalkin seemed unfazed by my hostility and calmly licked a paw. I picked at the scrambled eggs sitting before me. “Where’s Ash?”
“The Winter prince left yesterday evening while you were asleep and said nothing about where he was going, of course. He returned a few minutes ago.”
“He left? Where is he now?”
A thump from the door drew our attention. Paul wandered into the kitchen, shuffling like a zombie, his hair in disarray. He didn’t look at either of us.
“Hey,” I greeted softly, but I might as well have saved my breath. Paul acted like he didn’t hear me. Staring at the laden breakfast table, he picked up a piece of toast, nibbled a corner, and wandered back out, all without acknowledging my existence.
My appetite fled. Grimalkin eyed the glass of milk perched on the corner and tapped it experimentally. “By the way,” he continued as I stared moodily out the door, “your Winter prince wishes you to meet him in the clearing beyond the stream after you have eaten. He implied that it was important.”
I grabbed a bacon slice and nibbled half-heartedly. “Ash did? Why?”
“I did not care enough to ask.”
“What about my dad?” I glanced in the direction Paul had gone. “Will he be safe? Should I just leave him alone?”
“You are terribly dull this morning.” Grimalkin deliberately knocked over the glass of milk and watched it drip to the floor in satisfaction. “The same glamour that keeps mortals out of this place also keeps them in. Should the human go wandering around outside, he will not be able to leave the clearing. No matter the direction he takes, he will only find himself back where he started.”
“What if I want to take him away? He can’t stay here forever.”
“Then you had better take that up with Leanansidhe, not I. In any case, it is no concern of mine.” Grimalkin dropped from the table, landing on the wooden floor with a thump. “When you go to meet the prince, leave the dishes as they are,” he said, arching his tail over his back. “If you wash them, the brownies will be insulted and might leave the cabin, and that would be terribly inconvenient.”
“Is that why you made a mess?” I asked, eying the milk dripping to the floor. “So the brownies would have something to clean up?”
“Of course not, human.” Grimalkin yawned. “That was purely for the fun of it.” And he trotted from the room, leaving me to shake my head, grab a piece of toast, and hurry outside.
CHAPTER SIX
LESSONS
It was a foggy gray morning, with mist curling along the ground in wispy threads, muffling my footsteps. I hopped over the brook and looked back once I reached the other side. The cabin had disappeared once more, showing only misty forest beyond the stream.
In the center of the clearing, a dark silhouette danced and spun in the mist, his long coat billowing out behind him, an icy sword cutting through the fog like paper. I leaned against a tree and watched, hypnotized by the graceful, whirling movements, the deadly speed and accuracy of the sword strikes, far too quick for a human to ever keep up with. Uneasiness gnawed at me as I suddenly remembered the dream, Machina’s soft voice echoing in my head. Do you think you’ll be able to keep him, once you discover who you really are? Do you think he will even want you anymore?
Angrily, I pushed those thoughts away. What did he know? Besides, that was just a dream, a nightmare conjured from stress and the worry over my dad. It didn’t mean anything.
Ash finished the drill and with a final flourish, slammed the blade into its sheath. For a moment, he stood motionless, breathing deeply, the mist curling around him. “Is your father any better?” he asked without turning around. I jumped.
“Hasn’t changed.” I moved across the damp grass toward him, soaking the hems of my jeans. “How long have you been out here?”
He turned, raking a hand through his bangs, shoving them out of his eyes. “I went back to Leanansidhe’s last night,” he said, walking forward. “I wanted to get something for you, so I had one of her contacts track one down for me.”
“Track … what down?”
Ash strode to a nearby rock, swooped down, and tossed me a long, slightly curved stick. When I caught it, I saw that it was actually a leather sheath with a gilded brass hilt poking from the top. A sword. Ash was giving me a sword … why?
Oh, yeah. Because I wanted to learn to fight. Because I’d asked him to teach me.
Ash, watching me with that weary, knowing
