As they entered the town of Ashdown and Riona pretended to browse the various market tents and stalls, she kept a careful eye on Connor Donmagh. There would never be a right moment to tell him the truth: that Nora had locked her in the spare room and she’d made a rope from bedsheets to climb out the window. And the worst of it all: after she’d escaped the house, she’d used magic to shut the window again. She had to prevent unwelcome guests from flying inside or climbing up the bedsheet rope, into the spare room. Big displays of magic would attract the fae militia, but small ones—small ones she could risk for Nora and Donnoch’s safety. She hoped it was small enough.
“It’s just up here,” Connor said, pointing. Market stalls and tents lined both sides of the road now, as the trees had on the way into town. Beyond the market were more permeant structures and houses. “Most of these vendors are only here three days a week. They travel between Drohoven and Mudvale and here—both of those towns are west and east of here, respectively…”
He rambled on about the market and the local geography: Riona was familiar in passing with the layout of the land, but she was more interested in his sudden apprehension. This was different than this morning, when they’d run an errand together. He’d been acting strangely since she’d lied to him on the road. What had Nora told him? Maybe he knew Nora had imprisoned Riona, that she’d tied the bedsheets together and climbed out the window, and this was all a test….