A Deal with the Elf King (Married to Magic, #1)(95)

Per usual, Hook seems to understand my command. He walks over to the horses, sniffing around them. As I presume—hope—Hook is picking up Harrow’s scent, Eldas asks, “What’re you getting at?” I can see him trying to shake the worry from his mind so he can think clearly once more.

“I think the bodies were put here.”

“Why?”

“To throw us off and have us waste time searching along the fields and roads.” I look back to Carron. “Harrow was off to see Aria perform. Aria, presumably, knew he would come. She could’ve tipped off a fae party he was on his way.”

“Aria wouldn’t act against her family. Harming Harrow hurts her father’s chances.”

My suspicions persist strongly despite this reminder. But airing them now won’t help. “She might have done it unintentionally, said the wrong thing to the wrong person?”

Eldas grumbles at the idea of his brother being betrayed, but finally doesn’t object.

“We need to search the city.” I grip the bag at my side tightly and the jars of herbs I brought with me clank softly around lose plants. When do I tell Eldas that I’m worried about what state we might find Harrow in? How much longer can I keep Harrow’s secret before it’s a detriment to him? “Take us there.”

Eldas says nothing and grasps my hand. I bury my free fingers into Hook’s fur and we three step through the Fade onto the muddy streets of Carron. Immediately, Hook’s nose is to the ground.

He sniffs along the road, tracking back and forth until he seems to have a scent.

“I can go with Hook, you can search—”

“I’m not leaving you,” Eldas says firmly and strides off after Hook.

The small town is eerily silent. Every resident has locked up and gone to see the Troupe of Masks perform. The liquid shine from lamplights catches on dark windowpanes and hangs on corners, casting alleyways in darker, more ominous shadows than I have ever seen.

It would be a perfect time to attack a prince. Harrow was lured in by Aria and, if my suspicion is correct, the appeal of glimmer she might have been providing him. I can imagine him walking these silent streets, telling his guard to hang back while the deal was done to preserve his secret. I imagine his shadow lingering in the alleyway Hook leads us down. I imagine money exchanging hands for glimmer while his guard was gutted. Aria smiling sweetly, knowing she’d joined the Troupe of Masks for the sole purpose of this first performance venue—to get Harrow so close to the fae lands.

By the time Harrow knew anything, it was too late.

“I don’t understand.” Eldas keeps his voice hushed. He moves with almost cat-like grace and quiet. “Harrow should have been able to overpower a few fae. He has as much of a connection with the Veil as Drestin does and, while he might be dense, he’s smart enough not to fall for their half-truths.”

“Unless it was more than a few fae?” And unless he’d ingested so much glimmer that it put him out of his right mind.

“With his guard—”

“Unless he told his guard to wait elsewhere.”

“Why would he do that?” Eldas stops to face me. My expression must betray something, because his eyes narrow. “What do you know?”

I’ve said too much, and I know it. “I don’t know anything other than we have to find Harrow.”

“You’re lying to me,” he hisses. His brow is furrowed with anger, but his eyes are wounded. “I know you well enough that I know how the air shifts around you when you try to deceive.”

I swallow hard. “There’s no time now—”

“Tell me the essentials, then.”

“I’m trying to respect my patient,” I say weakly.

“This is a command.”

“But—”

“Luella!” he presses, worry contrasting with the frustration in his voice.

“Harrow was using glimmer,” I blurt.

“What?” The white fights to consume Eldas’s eyes as his lids hold themselves painfully open. “How would you—”

“He told me,” I say quickly. Then nerves and fear prompt me to speak even faster. I rush to tell Eldas of what I saw in the alleyway—what I suspect was glimmer changing hands to Aria from a fae accomplice. Of what Harrow told me on his bed and his confusion of how he’d become addicted to the substance he’d never meant to take in the first place. My theory of Aria using it to lure Harrow here, alone.

“They were planning this… Going after you that day was nothing more than an unexpected opportunity. That was why their kidnapping attempt seemed so haphazard. It was a crime of convenience. But the real plot was Harrow all along because the fae instigators knew they had a woman who had his ear,” Eldas seethes. I hope the rage in his eyes is directed at the fae and not at me, but I’m not certain. “You and I will discuss your choices to keep all this from me in more detail when my brother is safe.”

“Fine.” I want to object that I tried to tell him while respecting my patient’s wishes, but I know this isn’t the time or place. He’s right. Harrow’s safety is priority one right now.

Hook lets out a low whine and we begin following him again. The wolf leads us to a back, forgotten corner of the town. Refuse piles line the wall and fill the air with their stench. Eldas plugs his nose, rearing away. I’ve smelled worse from some rare plants, but the aroma still staggers me.