Chapter 4
Chapter four
Behind them, terrible sounds echoed through the forest, cracking, snapping, a hissing like water thrown on forge-hot metal.
Underneath it all, a low continuous sound that made the hair on Briar's arms stand up, not quite a growl, not quite a roar, but something that bypassed human understanding and went straight to primal fear.
"We need to move faster," Halian said, his voice still rough from being choked. "He's almost—"
A tree exploded into flames fifty yards behind them, the light throwing their shadows long and stark against the forest floor.
"Now would be good," Sian added tightly.
Arion shifted Briar in his arms, freeing one hand while somehow still supporting her weight.
He whispered something in the old tongue, words that seemed to catch in the air and hang there, visible as soft golden mist. The forest around them grew quiet, that particular stillness that came when something ancient paid attention.
They came from between the trees as if stepping out of moonlight itself.
Three of them, moving with an ethereal grace that made no sound despite their size.
They stood taller than any natural deer, their shoulders level with Arion's head.
Their coats shifted between white and pearl and silver, not quite solid, as if someone had captured fog and given it form.
The antlers rose like carved bone architecture, but within the tines, soft light pulsed in dawn colors of rose and gold and palest blue.
One approached Arion directly, lowering its massive head to breathe against his face. Its eyes held too much intelligence, and when it blinked, Briar saw constellations in the darkness behind its lids.
Arion grew quiet, almost reverent, speaking in low tones she couldn't understand. The formality in his posture, the careful cadence of his words. He was asking, not commanding.
The elk, though calling it that felt like calling the ocean a pond, considered. Its gaze moved to Briar, and she felt the weight of its attention, ancient and assessing. The warmth in her chest pulsed, reaching toward this creature of dawn and light.
It snorted, breath misting in the air despite the warm night, then folded its legs to kneel.
Another roar behind them, closer. The light from burning trees painted the forest orange and violent.
Arion lifted Briar onto the elk's back, the movement jarring every injury she had. The creature's coat felt like nothing she could describe—soft but insubstantial, warm but not quite there. She tried to grip with her legs but her body wouldn't cooperate, everything going loose and weak.
"Hold on," Arion said, mounting behind her. His arms came around her to take the barely-visible reins that seemed made of captured starlight. She sagged back against his chest, unable to keep herself upright any longer.
Sian and Halian mounted the other two elk, their movements quick and practiced. The creatures rose in unison, and Briar's stomach dropped at suddenly being so high. The ground seemed impossibly far below.
"Go," Arion commanded.
The elk moved.
It wasn't running, running implied normal physics, normal motion.
This was something else. The forest blurred into streaks of dark and darker, trees becoming suggestions rather than solid things.
The elk's gait was impossibly smooth, as if they traveled above the ground rather than on it.
Wind whipped Briar's tangled hair across her face, cold enough to steal what little breath she had.
"Sleep," Arion said against her ear, his voice gentle. "You're safe now."
She wanted to argue, to explain about Karse, but the warmth in her chest pulsed with contentment at Arion's proximity, and her body had nothing left to give.
The rhythm of the elk's movement, the solid presence of Arion behind her, the soft light emanating from the creature beneath them, it all pulled her toward unconsciousness.
The forest streamed past in ways that made no sense, trees bending away from their passage, the world becoming nothing but motion and wind and the faint chime of the elk's hooves when they struck stone. Her eyes closed without her permission, her body finally surrendering to exhaustion.
The darkness that took her was complete.
The sound of quiet movement stirred her from sleep.
Briar's eyes opened slowly, her body feeling heavy and disconnected, as though she'd been underwater for too long.
A young fae girl stood by the table near the window, setting down a fresh tray while collecting another that must have been there for hours, the fruit on it had begun to brown at the edges.
The girl's eyes widened when she noticed Briar watching. "My lady, forgive me, I didn't mean to wake you." She dipped a quick curtsy and fled before Briar could respond.
Briar knew this room. The pale wood furniture, the tapestry depicting dawn breaking over mountains, the way morning light filtered through gossamer curtains.
The Star Court. Arion's home. She'd stayed here before, when everything had been different.
When she'd still believed she might find a way to break her bargain with Eliam.
The smell of fresh bread and something sweet pulled her from the bed. Her feet touched the floor, expecting pain, expecting her leg to buckle. Nothing. She stood fully, waiting for the familiar agony of cracked ribs, the burn of the cauterized wound. Still nothing.
She looked down at herself, at legs that bore only faint lines where deep gashes had been.
The angry burns from Karse's healing had faded to pink marks that looked weeks old, not days.
Someone had dressed her in a soft nightgown, cream-colored and simple.
Her skin was clean, her hair washed and braided loosely over one shoulder.
The table by the balcony held more food than she could eat in three meals.
There were pastries that steamed in the cool air, fruit cut into delicate shapes, tea that smelled of honey and herbs she couldn't name.
She sat, her body moving without the careful calculation of injury she'd grown accustomed to.
Through the open doors, morning air drifted in, carrying the scent of the Star Court's gardens—jasmine and something else, something that only grew in places where magic lingered.
She'd barely taken her first bite when a knock came at the door.
"Come in," she said, expecting the servant girl again.
Arion entered, and for a moment she forgot to breathe.
Gone were the formal robes she'd always seen him in.
He wore a fitted dark green vest over a white shirt with sleeves rolled to his forearms, his usually perfect hair falling in loose curls around his face.
The casual attire made him look younger, less like the Star Court's prince and more like. .. just Arion.
Relief flickered across his features when he saw her sitting there. "You're awake. And eating. Good."
He moved toward the balcony doors, already reaching to close them. "You shouldn't have these open, the morning air is too cold—"
"Leave them," she said. "Please. I've been inside too long."
He paused, clearly wanting to argue, then compromised by pulling a shawl from the wardrobe. It was soft gray wool, the edges decorated with tiny stars. He draped it around her shoulders with careful movements, not quite touching her but ensuring she was covered.
"You had us worried," he said quietly, settling into the chair across from her. "You've been sleeping for two days."
"Two days?" The pastry nearly fell from her hand. "But—"
"Halian healed what he could. The physical damage, most of it.
Some things..." He paused, his gaze dropping to where her hand had unconsciously moved to her chest, to where the warmth pulsed weak but present in response to his proximity.
"Some things can't be healed with magic.
Your body was repaired, but your mind seemed to need the rest. Or perhaps it didn't want to wake. "
The weight of those words settled between them. She thought of Eliam's cold dismissal, of being hunted like an animal, of Karse trapped in water and roots because he'd tried to protect her. Two days of sleep hadn't erased any of it.
"Where are Sian and Halian?" she asked, deflecting from the hollow ache beneath her ribs.
"Nearby. They wanted to check on you, but I thought you might need space first. Time to adjust."
"And Karse?" The name tasted strange on her tongue. "The Drak?"
Something shifted in Arion's expression, not quite discomfort but close. "We don't know. He didn't follow us to the Star Court, at least not yet. But Sian says..." He hesitated.
"What?"
"She says something that burns that hot doesn't give up easily." He studied her face. "He seemed to think you belonged to him."
The memory of Karse's matter-of-fact declaration rose unbidden. You're mine until the debt's paid. She wondered if he was still out there, hunting for what he considered his. The thought should have terrified her. Instead, she felt oddly guilty for leaving him trapped.
"He saved my life," she said simply. "Multiple times."
Arion nodded slowly, though something in his eyes suggested he wanted to say more. Instead, he gestured to her plate. "Eat. You need your strength. We have... much to discuss."
Briar continued eating, the food settling uneasily in her stomach despite its quality. The silence stretched between them until Arion finally spoke.
"How did you end up in the forest?" His tone was careful, gentle. "We assumed you'd escaped from Eliam somehow."
The words lodged in her throat like broken glass. She set down her cup, her hand trembling slightly. "He released me from our bargain."
Arion's eyes widened. "Released you? But why would he—"
"How did you know to look for me?" she interrupted, unable to bear that line of questioning. Not yet. Maybe not ever.