Ivy's Choice (The Fey Quartet Book 3) by Emily Larkin Read Free Book Online

almost running. Larkspur waited for them at the edge of the clearing, a piece of rope in her hand. Hugh stood back and watched Hazel hug her sister fiercely, then hold her at arm’s length. “Are you sure you have the strength for this, love?”
    Larkspur nodded, and glanced at Hugh. Thank you, he told her silently, and knew that she, at least, heard.
    “Ivy said Hugh’s going to pretend to do something—but then Aleyn came in and she couldn’t tell me what. What?”
    “He’ll pretend not to recognize anyone, and he’ll pretend to be mad.”
    “Why?”
    “Because it’s safer for him—if it is Aleyn who cast this spell.”
    “Oh.” Hazel’s brow cleared. “Of course it is. A mad Hugh is no threat; a sane one is . Tam’s no fool. If Hugh tried to tell him something—even if he couldn’t speak—Tam would figure it out.”
    “Ivy was afraid Aleyn might try to kill Hugh. This way, he has no reason to.”
    “None at all!” Hazel said firmly. She took the rope from her sister. “Come on. Let’s be off to the bluebell dell.”
    They walked more slowly, now. Hazel held Larkspur’s hand. She radiated an intense, anxious protectiveness. The two red-brown hounds came. Bess stayed close to the women, but Bartlemay cast in circles around them, his tail wagging. Twice, he came up to Hugh and pranced, inviting him to play.
    After ten minutes, Hazel called Bartlemay to her in a low voice and took hold of his scruff. “Can you hear them yet?” she asked her sister.
    Larkspur walked forward cautiously and halted beneath a young alder. She grimaced, and nodded.
    “Clearly?”
    Larkspur nodded again.
    “Can you cope?”
    “For a few minutes, yes.”
    “Bartlemay, Bess—sit, stay.” When the hounds had settled themselves at Larkspur’s feet, Hazel tied the rope around Hugh’s neck in a loose halter. “Let’s make this quick,” she told him. “Ivy couldn’t get Tam aside. He doesn’t know the truth yet. He’s frantic with worry about you.” She checked the halter, making sure it wasn’t too tight. “Ready?”
    Hugh dipped his head in a nod. Tension was tight in his belly.
    Hazel blew out a breath. “Very well, let’s act out this charade.”
     
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    HAZEL LED HIM into the bluebell dell. Ivy was there, leaning on her crutch. Tam and Cadoc. And Aleyn.
    Hazel halted.
    Hugh halted, too. He stood with his legs splayed, his body shaking, his head hanging lopsided. He heaved his lungs so that breath whistled from his mouth, and rolled his eyes, and examined the three men looking at him: Tam, his face drawn and worried; Cadoc, bearded and equally worried; and Aleyn, staring intently at him.
    Tam. Cadoc . Emotion squeezed his ribcage. It took all his willpower not to tear free and run to them.
    “It’s a man? Are you certain?” Tam came closer and went down on one knee. He looked more serious than Hugh had ever seen him. No levity on his face today, just deep worry.
    Hugh’s ribcage squeezed even tighter. Tam . He rolled his eyes wildly again, dropped one hip, and canted to the left.
    “Yes. Larkspur was able to tell that much,” Ivy said. “But she can’t tell who he is. He’s quite mad, poor thing. Being in our cottage distressed him. He’s much calmer in the forest.”
    Tam reached out to touch him.
    Hugh wanted to lean into his brother’s hand; he made himself flinch and half-rear, almost tugging the rope from Hazel’s grip.
    Tam lowered his hand and clenched it on his knee. “It’s not Hugh, is it?” His voice was low and controlled, but Hugh heard the fear in it.
    “We don’t know who he is,” Ivy said. “Larkspur can’t tell.”
    Tam looked up at Hazel. He swallowed, and moistened his lips. “Can you tell if it’s Hugh?”
    “My gift can’t find Hugh,” Hazel said. “He’s . . . gone. Nowhere.”
    Hugh rolled his eyes again. He saw grim compassion on Cadoc’s face—and glee on Aleyn’s.
    “There must be some way of returning him to his true form,” Ivy said.
    Tam