Bourn’s Edge Read Online Free Page A

had. She’d run out of retarder medium, and the half-gallon jar of cobalt blue was almost empty. How could she have let her supplies run so low without noticing? She scowled at the canvas. Her usual delicacy of touch had deserted her. She couldn’t get the right effect, no matter what she tried. The forest scene refused to come to life and the horses looked like something a child might have drawn. Drysi could have done better with a paintbrush strapped to her paw.
    Ever since she’d chased off the crow she had felt on edge, the way she sometimes did before a thunderstorm. But the patch of sky visible through her studio window was a clear blue. She tried to discount the feeling of pressure and unease, but deep down, she knew what it was. Something, or someone, was coming. Something that would turn her life upside down.
    The knock at her back door was loud enough to be audible in the studio. It set off the dogs, who started whining and yelping. They must know the caller, whoever it was. She put her brush to soak in a jar of water and hurried through to the kitchen.
    “Stop that.”
    The dogs quietened and sank to their haunches.
    The knock came again. Anyone from the village would have used her front door. She extended her senses and felt the unmistakeable presence of one of the Fae. Bracing herself, she lifted the latch.
    “Einion.” It was the last person she had expected. He wore his hair tied back in a ponytail now. “You’ve changed your hair.”
    “You’ve changed your clothes” He gestured at her sweatshirt and jeans. For a moment they grinned at one another, then he continued, “Are you going to invite me in?”
    She glanced past him to the hawthorn tree, below which his horse was tethered, but there was no sign of the crow. “That depends.”
    “On what?”
    “On whether Mab sent you.”
    He looked amused rather than offended. Both knew his loyalty lay with the Queen and always would. “I’m here as a friend.”
    “Come in, friend.” She stepped back.
    Ducking his head to avoid the lintel—the forester’s house had been built for mortals and while Tarian had few problems, Einion was a head taller than she was—he stepped inside. While the dogs greeted him, tails wagging, he took in the shabby kitchen with a glance and a raised eyebrow but made no other comment. He took off his gloves and petted the dogs. They responded by licking his fingers. After a few seconds, Tarian called them off and sent them to their baskets.
    Einion straightened, pocketed his gloves, and turned to her, his expression serious. “What made you think Mab had sent me?”
    “Her spies have been watching me for three days in a row.”
    “Then the news I bring will come as no surprise.”
    Her heart sank. “Go on.” She gestured to one of the kitchen chairs and took another herself.
    Chair legs scraped on the tiles as he sat. “Mab’s bored with her current champion. She wants a change.”
    Tarian snorted. “I’m surprised Cadel held her interest as long. There’s not much between his ears.”
    “What’s between his legs makes up for it,” said Einion. “Or so they tell me.”
    Tarian grunted. “And?”
    “She wants you back.”
    “Ah.”
    The only sound in the kitchen was the panting of the dogs and an occasional soft crackle from the boar roasting in the Aga’s oven. From the back garden came the trill of a blackbird.
    “What are you going to do?” asked Einion at last.
    “Nothing. Mab gave me her word. I haven’t broken our agreement, and neither will she.”
    “I wouldn’t be too sure.”
    She stood up, irritated. “Moon and stars! I thought we’d been through all this, Einion. She knows I no longer desire to be her champion. She exiled me for it.”
    “Since when has anyone else’s desire concerned Mab?” Loyalty had never blinded him to the Queen’s shortcomings.
    “It’s done with. Over.” Tarian began to pace. “She knows that.”
    “Are you sure?” She turned to him in surprise. He