Rose grinned and gestured around the shop. “They are the best bowyer in Elfhame.”
They rather than she, confirmed as the fae’s serene expression flashed into a brief smile at Rose. It felt like a reward and I found myself wishing to be on the receiving end. “Now, let’s see…” Eyeing me, they stepped out from behind the counter and produced a tape measure. Hooking the end under their toe, they unspooled it and measured my height. Next, they measured my arm span and asked how strong I was.
Gaze turning distant, they bustled towards a rack. “How’s your aim?”
“Uh. Good for a human?”
Rose cleared her throat. “Bastian was impressed, so it’s excellent. Even amongst fae.” At my questioning glance, she shrugged. “He isn’t one for exaggeration.”
A lick of warmth unfurled in me.
“Try this.” Not turning from the rack, the bowyer passed me a recurve bow a little longer than the one I’d used in the practice yard. “Just draw it.”
I obeyed, and they cast that starry gaze across me. “Mmm.” Nodding, they took it back. “I have just the thing.” They turned from the rack with a shorter recurve in a deep, rust-coloured wood—yew, perhaps. “This is your bow.”
“Don’t you want me to draw it first?”
“You can if you like.” They shrugged, a faint grin pulling at the corner of their mouth. “But I’ve been doing this a long time. I know it’s the one for you.” They held it out with both hands.
It didn’t seem a very scientific way of going about weapon selection. But when my fingers closed around the bow, a deep hum resonated through my hands as though its magic woke and reached for me.
The bowyer raised their eyebrows and gave me the same smile they’d given Rose earlier. “See?”
The hum felt warm and right, like approval. I gave it an experimental draw. Full extension easily but not too easily. It gave a little less feedback than the bow from the practice yard. I’d be able to fire this for a long time before growing tired. Its resonance infused me, making me stand taller, feel somehow fuller.
“I… I do.”
“It’s almost as though I know what I’m doing!” They chuckled and waved off my attempted apologies. “This one has been here a long while waiting for the right person. Too short for most of us, see?”
True enough, they were the shortest fae I’d seen, standing perhaps an inch taller than me.
“I’m only halfborn—my father was human. But I’m no archer. Ironically.” When they grinned, their teeth weren’t as sharp as Bastian’s or Rose’s. “This wood came from the Great Yew when it was struck by lightning. I only had a limited amount to work with, hence the size. But I knew one day it would find its hand, and here you are.”
Their eyes shone with pleasure, like they’d solved a particularly tricky puzzle that had been plaguing them a long time.
Rose peered at the bow, eyebrows raised. “And you don’t mind selling such sacred wood to a human?”
The bowyer snorted. “It chose her. It’s going exactly where it wishes.”
The Great Yew?
I gave Rose a questioning look, but she shook her head. “I’ll show you later.”
The bowyer helped me choose arrows fletched with barn owl feathers for silence. “The recurve makes that bow a bit louder than a longbow, but I’ll add an enchantment for you—keep it quiet as the grave.”
They showed me how to loosen the string for transport by touching it in a specific place and saying asgal.
As they wrapped the bow and a few dozen arrows and helped Rose pick some new arrows for herself, I wandered along the glass-topped cabinets that formed the counter. As well as bows, they made pistols and I found a small boot pistol that matched mine—its smaller sister. I added that to my order, since it would be easy to hide.
I pointed at the golden stag decorating the butt, like the sign over the door. No wonder it had felt familiar. “Is this a common symbol for fae to use on their pistols?”
“That is my maker’s mark.” They tapped a bow behind the counter. A stag decorated its grip, and when I scanned the rack behind me, I spotted more stags—some in brass close to the tip, antlers holding the string in place, others on the grip or decorating the bow’s limbs. “You recognise it, don’t you?”
“I have a full-size version of that pistol. It’s kept me alive on a few occasions.”
“Ah, yes.” They opened the cabinet and presented the boot pistol. “I made its partner at the same time, but a trader insisted on splitting them and taking it to a rich client south of the border. There was a sister piece, too, with a tempered steel stag.”
I huffed a laugh, weighing the pistol. “That rich client was my father, and the second pistol went to my sister. I always wondered who made them. And now I know.” Warmth filled my chest.
Maybe it was that, maybe it was just the fact I had weapons now, but as we left the tower and stepped into the sunshine, the city felt a little less dangerous and a little more like a place I could call home, even if only for a while.
16
Kat
At the next shop, a slender man from Dawn gave us no joy, but at the one after that, when we showed the jeweller the necklace, her eyes widened a fraction. Recognition.
“I didn’t make it.” She shook her head and started rearranging rings in a cabinet.
True, none of the other jewellery here looked like the pearlwort necklace, and she couldn’t tell a direct lie. But I’d stake my life that she knew more.
“Any idea who did?” I kept it casual, like it didn’t matter, even though it burned in me.
“I can’t help you.”
“Really? Because it’s the strangest thing… but when you first saw this necklace, it seemed an awful lot like you recognised it.” I smiled sweetly, cocking my head.
At my side, Rose straightened and I felt her glance this way.
The fae drew her eyebrows together, expression hardening as she looked up from fussing over the rings. “I can’t help you. Kindly leave.”
For a beat, I held her eye. But Bastian’s warning that his power was diminished by day came back to me. If the jeweller was of Dusk, she would help me. If this was nighttime, Rose might be able to order her to answer, though I wasn’t sure how much of Bastian’s sway she held as his employee.
Telling Bastian about my work was out of the question. Last night he’d made it clear he didn’t trust me, and he’d proved that he couldn’t be trusted. If he found out I was after unCavendish, he’d say it was unsafe and make Rose put a stop to it.
Biting back a sigh, I turned away, Rose’s relief palpable as her shoulders inched down.
“Sorry,” she muttered as we stepped outside. “That’s Dawn for you.”
Was it that? Or did the jeweller have a reason to hide the maker and stop me following the trail back to unCavendish’s master?
We turned onto the street and with a gasp, I stopped short, a foot away from bumping into someone. I snatched at the poison in me and tried my best to shove it down. Small. Stay small.
“Katherine!” Hair glinting in the sunshine, Caelus beamed like he was genuinely pleased to see me.