The Sun Sídhe

20 - An Hainn

"That damn woman pushed me!" I shrieked once I'd regained my senses. I whirled around, as if she'd be standing behind me. She wasn't. There was only the field we stood in, plots of farmland and low, stone walls in the distance, and the collection of dirt roads and buildings that formed An Hainn. We were closer to the town than I'd thought, mere paces from one of the outlying streets. A ragged trio of children peered at us around the corner of the closest house, eyes wide open with curiosity and fear. I ignored them.

Unfortunately for him, Ronan was the closest and received the brunt of my outburst. He jumped. "Who... what?"

"Clídna pushed me," I repeated, huffing. "She's pettier than she lets on."

"Most people are." Aeden sat apart from the rest of us, crouched on his haunches to fiddle with a long stem of grass. His gaze shot about our surroundings, lingering on the town branching out before us. Unease sharpened his movements.

Morrigan released a long breath and buried her face in her palms. She looked a step away from fainting. "That could have been dangerous. It's a good thing that you were polite, Ronan, and you"—she glanced at Aeden— "were, ah, behaving, and"—her ruby eyes turned to me—"and-and that she really wanted you alive."

"Of course she did. Who else would do the hard work for her?" I grumbled.

"I'm not sure she'd be able to do it if she tried." Morri glanced at the onlooking children. A few townsfolk had joined them in openmouthed staring, their daily duties forgotten. She lowered her already feather-soft voice. "We are bean sídhe, tied to the moon and death. Our powers are not suited for combating darkness."

Ronan rubbed the back of his neck, weariness settling in his expression. "An Hainn... I've heard there are a lot of merchants that pass through this area. I'd like to try to trade for some supplies while we're here."

"With what, exactly?" I opened my own pack. Aside from a few scraps of food, cloth, and a water flask, I had nothing. I still wore the bracelet Orin and his mother had given me—it sat comfortably enough on my wrist that I forgot it was there if I didn't glance down—and the corded necklace Conor had made. Neither would be worth much, even if I had wanted to get rid of them.

Morrigan turned her hands over, examining her myriad of rings and bracelets. "Much of what I have are gifts," she murmured. "I cannot sell these."

"We'd be rich if you could." She had such a vast collection of silver—those cuffs on her shoulders, the bracelets, the rings, all of it. That could buy enough to feed the four of us for years. Whoever had showered her with such jewellery must have been quite powerful. Perhaps a king? Several? She'd been around for a long time, after all.

"Oi! Lass, what are you doing?" Aeden asked, rather startled. I turned. He'd stopped torturing the grass; one of the children now clung to the tattered edge of his cape, her little fingers curled tight about the wool.

The girl didn't let go. A brave one, her. "Are you monsters?"

Aeden stiffened and raised his hand. I jerked forward, afraid he'd strike the child. Instead, he patted her head and gave her one of his feigned smiles. A weary sadness laid behind it. "No, we're not monsters. Not even the mean one with the freckles," he added, jerking a thumb in my direction.

I flexed my fingers, flames flickering between them. "Care to repeat that?"

"Nope."

The lass was adamant. "Then are you highborn? I saw mist before you came. Da says only monsters and the fair folk come from it."

I grimaced. We hadn't been all that subtle with our arrival, had we?"

"It's a wee bit rude to interrogate travellers," Aeden said lightly, ruffling the kid's hair until she let out a squeal. He winked and stood, extracting her fingers from his cape. "Go off back to your friends, lass."