“You know I can find you,” he called after her, still laughing. “And I will.”

She hit the doorframe at full speed, her wrists taking the brunt of it. Using the impact, she sprang out into the hall. Once free of the room, she spun around to face the door. When he didn’t appear right away, she fled down the hall.

The memory of his laughter followed her, like a disaster building momentum, all the way back to the inn.

Chapter Twenty

When she reached her room, she felt like she had been running for miles. Her breathing coming short and fast, she slammed the door and locked it.

Unlocked it. Locked it.

Unlocked. Locked.

She had her own invisible compulsion that held her prisoner, her own geas that tightened its constraints upon her behavior. Finally she rested both shaking hands on the panels while she tried to think.

Her stay in Avalon had been only lacking that one thing, the threat of sexual assault, to made the nightmare complete.

Her mother had told her once, long ago, when people show you who they are, believe them. The monster had shown her who he was, and Sid did believe him.

You know I can find you, he had said. And he was right. He could. Several people, including the castle guard, knew where she was staying. An offhand conversation, a few carefully worded questions, and he would know exactly where to come.

I could run, she thought, turning to lean back against the door as she looked around the room. I could just head out of town, ignore the two hours’ walk limit, and keep going.

But then he could have me tracked down to a place where there weren’t any witnesses. And if I tell Morgan, he’ll kill him. There’s no question in my mind. He’ll kill him, and that might expose him, and he could lose what little freedom he has fought so hard to gain.

I could move to another inn.

But even as she considered that, she knew that wasn’t a solution either. Valentin could find her wherever she went.

Suddenly, her mind switched gears.

She thought, I could go back to the castle. Approach Kallah in confidence and tell her what happened. Maybe Kallah would let me stay in her room. Surely not even Valentin would dare to attack Kallah, not when she was so close to Isabeau.

But if I did that, I would always be looking over my shoulder. I would always be strategizing how to avoid dark corners or find ways to keep from being alone, and I can’t keep that up indefinitely. Sooner or later, I’ll find myself in a vulnerable position.

Or…

I could kill him.

When that thought occurred to her, it clicked home, like the key turning in the lock. She let the thought settle to see if it held true or vanished in a train of logic, while she stared out at the sparkling sea.

It held true.

Quickly, she sprang into action. She stripped off the bedsheets and carried them down the servants’ staircase. Down below, she threw the sheets in with the pile to be washed in the morning.

Then she got a bucket and soap from one of the servants, and went back to her room to scrub every available surface she could. She finished by washing the floorboards on her hands and knees.

It was early evening, and the sun was beginning to dip down toward the sea, when she finally poured the last of the soapy water down the drain in the alcove. Setting the bucket by the door, she dressed in a black tunic, trousers, and butter-soft boots.

Pulling out her pen, ink, and paper, she wrote, Go back. I can’t see you tonight.

Because if she saw Morgan, he would want to know what was wrong. And if she weakened and told him, he would want to do something about it. She knew her Magic Man well enough to know that much.

Pinning the note to the balcony table with an unlit lamp, she closed and locked the balcony doors. Then, pausing for a few minutes, she took off her telepathy earrings and slipped them into her pocket. Settling the strap of her leather purse across her torso, messenger-style, she left her room, locked it, and headed down the stairs.

The taproom was filled with the dinner crowd. Light Fae and humans, some of them probably Hounds, along with a few of the creatures she had discovered were ogres, and a few sprites who were drawn to the conviviality like bees to honey.

Across the room, Leisha was serving dinner to several men. She saw Sid and gave her a nod and a smile as she approached. “Headed back to the castle?”

“I thought I would check out the night market,” Sid told her. “I heard there are metal smiths at the other end.”

“There are.” Leisha eyed her curiously. “Looking for anything in particular?”

A good, sharp knife would do. She didn’t think she should attempt anything like a short sword. Like a gun purchased by someone who didn’t know how to use it, a short sword would be more a danger to her than to anyone else, if someone knowledgeable were able to take it away.

Tae kwon do was an unarmed sport. She could try striking to immobilize and then hopefully finish the job with the knife.

Listen to her, plotting someone’s murder. When Leisha’s expression changed, she realized she had gone silent for too long.

Moving closer, Leisha lowered her voice. “Are you all right, love?”

Leisha lowering her voice was a courtesy, nothing more. Sid knew there were many sharp Light Fae ears that could still hear every word that was spoken.

Oh, screw it. She was tired of being so damn careful all the time. She couldn’t win her way through this fucked-up situation by being careful, and there was no place for her to hide.

She replied, “You know, no, I’m not. Someone threatened me today, and I want to buy a knife to protect myself.”

There was a nearly indefinable change in the people around them, a sharpening of focus. Coldly, Sid watched a few of the guard set down their forks. Witnesses before the fact should be useful.

Dismay darkened Leisha’s features. “Dear goddess, I hope it didn’t happen here!”

“No,” Sid said, glancing around the taproom. “Your inn must be one of the safest places in town. But I have to leave here sometimes and go to the castle or go buy supplies in town. I can’t barricade myself in your inn.”

Leisha grabbed her hand. She whispered, “Go to the Queen. Tell her what happened. She’s your patron. She’ll protect you.”

Sid almost pitied Leisha’s naïveté. Either that, or she envied it. Isabeau might not tolerate rape in most cases, but she had already shown who she was too, earlier, when Modred had tried to warn her.