Chapter 22
“When possible, always travel in pairs.”
— Surviving the Unseelie Lands, Author Unknown
The blackest night I’ve ever known cradles me in its midnight embrace. I pry my eyes open to blink at where the stars should be only to find more endless darkness. My entire body feels as if it’s been trampled by one of those beastly unicorns the Unseelie use as mounts.
The outline of a tree with broad leaves stretches above me, with a large gap where the branches look as if they’ve been torn from the thick trunk.
Water rushes in the distance, soothing in its familiarity.
Memories flow on its tide.
Maddox missing. Possibly wounded.
Me going to the bridge to find him and—
Oh no. The bridge.
It . . .
It broke.
The last thing I remember is the panic in Maddox’s gaze before fear consumed me, swallowing me whole.
I press a hand to my heart. Still beating.
How is that possible? I should be dead. Passed to whatever lies beyond the veil—
The ground beneath me shifts. Groans.
I’m not on the ground at all but on someone.
I manage to move my aching body enough to see who has been dragged into the darkness with me.
Straight, proud nose. Mouth that should be smiling. Lashes longer than any man has a right to possess.
“Maddox?” My voice breaks in a pathetic croak, as if I haven’t had a drink in centuries.
Terror strangles me in its iron grip. I press dirty hands to cold, green cheeks. “Maddox? Can you hear me?”
What the hell is he doing down here? He’d been so far away. Did the whole bridge break? Is the guard somewhere down here too?
“Maddox?”
His groan might be the sweetest sound to ever grace my ears.
Thank heavens. I don’t know what I would’ve done if he were dead.
Blinking through my tears, I skim my fingers along his chest and the ridges of his abdomen, searching for wounds hidden in the shadows. “Can you move?”
A garbled curse falls from his lips as he sucks in a sharp breath.
“What is it? Are you in pain?” What am I saying? Of course the man is in pain. Not only did he fall from the bridge, but also I landed on top of him. “Tell me where it hurts.” I’m not sure how to make it better, but I’ll do my best to try.
“Nia . . . Stop.”
No surname accompanies his broken plea. It’s the first time he’s forgotten to call me anything but Nia Quill. He probably doesn’t even realize. A slip of the tongue.
Why does it make my whole heart swell?
There are far more important matters to attend to than the name he chose to call me.
I lift both hands in the air as he groans again and carefully eases himself to sitting. He cups the back of his head with his large hand, then brings it away to blink at his palm. I don’t need daylight to know he’s bleeding.
“Your head—”
“Is still attached.” He swipes his palm down the leg of his trousers.
He’s hurt. He’s hurt. He’s hurt. “Let me see.”
“There is no need to concern yourself. I am fine.”
Fine? We are far from fine.
He’s broken and bleeding at the bottom of The Divide. I press my hands to either side of my head to keep myself from shattering. “What happened? How are we here?” How are we alive?
“The bridge broke.”
“I remember that.” The crack, the give, the emptiness beneath my slippers. “But how did you fall?”
Wincing, he touches his fingertips to his side. “I did not fall.”
“Says the man sitting at the bottom of The bloody Divide.” Now is not the time for jokes. Our situation is far too dire.
He lifts his gaze to mine and says, “I jumped after you.”
That isn’t . . . He couldn’t have . . . “You. Jumped?”
A nod.
“You jumped?” He willingly leapt into The Divide? Heavens above. “Are you insane? How could you be so reckless? You could’ve been killed!”
His head tilts the same way his goat’s did that day in the gardens. “Seelie have a strange way of expressing gratitude.”
He’s right. I shouldn’t be screaming at him; I should be thanking him. But heavens above, nothing this man does makes any bloody sense.
“Thank you, Maddox.” If he hadn’t risked his life, I wouldn’t have survived. There was no guarantee we would survive with his help. He could’ve died too. “Although, I’m at a loss as to why you would do such a thing.”
He glances away, toward the infinite nothing. If there’s an explanation, he swallows it down with all his other secrets. “We need to build a fire. There is no telling what sort of monsters lurk in this unknown place.”
Another valid point. All those haunting tales about the Unseelie lands had to come from somewhere.
We’re in no man’s land, between worlds. A place where fae have never dared to venture. What if we can’t get out? What if we’re stuck here forever?
I push to my feet, but the moment I put weight on my ankle, pain shoots up my leg, which is bloody brilliant. Maddox rolls to his feet with another groan, his gaze lifting toward the dark canopy above us, as if he can see through the leaves to where we once stood.
As Maddox scans the night, I listen for sounds of monsters, not that I know what monsters sound like. Surely, they must growl or hiss or howl.
“There is a river nearby,” he says. “Where there is water, there is life.”
Or, in our case, possible death.
“Shouldn’t we be finding somewhere safe to stay?” Somewhere a little more protected than this broken tree in the middle of nothing?
Unsheathing his dagger from his belt, Maddox crouches down and strikes the blade against what I assume is a piece of flint. “Where would you suggest? Do you have a house at the bottom of this canyon?”
Things are bad enough without sarcastic Maddox coming out to join us. “There’s no need for the tone.”
Blowing out a breath, he strikes the flint a second time. A few measly sparks flicker, then vanish. “Walking in darkness can be treacherous. We do not know which way to go and are liable to wander straight into a wolf’s den.” Strike. Spark. Strike. Spark. Strike. Spark.
This time, the spark catches, growing into a small flame as it consumes what looks like moss. I stare like a useless stump while Maddox scavenges the darkness, collecting sticks and twigs, using them to build a little pyramid over the small blaze.
“Do you really think there might be wolves down here?”
Light flares across his face when he leans down to blow on the flames. “Yes.”
Tell me we didn’t survive the fall only to be a wolf’s dinner.
“Must you be so matter-of-fact?” There’s probably no way to sugarcoat the presence of wolves, but he could’ve at least tried.
I sink back to the ground, hugging my knees to my chest, feeling like I’ve been thrown into a sack and kicked by the whole of Willowhaven’s army. My throbbing ankle certainly isn’t helping matters.
“You would prefer I lie to you again?” He shakes his head. “Seelie fae do not make any sense.”
“Says the man who jumped into a canyon.”
His lips press into a thin line. Angry flames lick hungrily at fresh fuel as he continues to feed the fire small debris.
I guess that means he doesn’t want to talk about it.
I’ll give him tonight, but tomorrow, we are absolutely going to discuss the reason behind his recklessness.
Thank heavens he was reckless, though. If I were alone, I wouldn’t survive a night. I don’t even know how to build a fire without the small bundles of firelighters they sell at the market and the box of matches above the mantle.
If I had to be lost with anyone, I’m glad it’s Maddox.
My stomach rumbles, and I clutch my knees a little tighter. If only I’d gone back to the bakery instead of the pub.
Seeming content with our small fire, Maddox settles down beside me. From his other pocket, he withdraws a leather pouch with a bunch of brown twigs inside. “This should stem the hunger.”
How? They’re tiny.
What I wouldn’t give for a hot biscuit oozing with melted butter and honey right about now. Or some crispy fried potatoes seasoned with olive oil and thyme.
“What’s in it?”
His brows lift. “Do you really want to know?”
Actually, no. I probably don’t.
Reluctantly, I take one from the pouch. “An offering of sustenance? Should I be suspicious?”
“Fear not, Nia Quill. I will not propose to you.”
His choice of words turns my heart to stone. Not because I expected him to propose. That’s ridiculous. I just didn’t expect him to be so dismissive of the idea, especially after Kerris shared her suspicions. Perhaps my cousin misunderstood his interest.
Or maybe my own terrible actions have turned him off me altogether. Who could blame him? I wouldn’t want to tie myself to a bitter, cross fae, so why would he?
Perhaps he was only interested in me at the beginning, before he got to know me. Heaven knows he wouldn’t be the first. Maybe that’s why he lied, to keep from embarrassing me with the truth.
I rip off a bit of the stick with my teeth. There’s a peppery note, and the bite takes so long to chew that my jaw aches, but it’s not the worst fare I’ve had.
I tear off another piece, chewing slowly.
Maddox tucks the pouch back into his pocket without taking one for himself.
“Aren’t you having any?”
“I am not hungry.” He adds a few more twigs to the fire, then withdraws something else from his pocket. How many items does this man carry?
Wordlessly, he unscrews the lid on a silver flask and stretches it toward me like an offering.
“Thank you.” The first sip quenches the fire in my mouth. The second makes my ankle feel good as new.
The water must’ve come from the Seelie side of The Divide, where our taps and wells overflow with immortal, healing water. As thirsty as I am, to drink it all would only lead to folly. There’s no telling how long we’ll be here or what sort of injuries we’re bound to sustain on our journey home.
Assuming we can even make it home.
My hand trembles as I hand back the flask. Maddox doesn’t drink any; he simply tucks it into his pocket and goes back to tending the fire.
“You should drink something.”
“I am not yours to worry about.”
Hearing my own words thrown back at me hurts worse than the fall.
How could I have said such dreadful things to such a sweet man?
Reaching for his hand, I wait until his gaze meets mine.
When it does, his eyes remain guarded. “I’m so sorry, Maddox.
I was having a terrible day and took it all out on you. ”
Pulling his hand out of my grasp, he shifts a little further away. “I am the one who lied to you. You were only speaking your truth.”
That’s the thing. None of what I said was true.
I’m just as much of a liar as he is.
My eyes start to sting. What I wouldn’t give for a good, long cry.
Over being stuck at the bottom of a canyon. Over the fact that Maddox refuses to look at me. Over ruining everything that could’ve been with my bloody temper.
The weight of it all feels like being crushed by boulders. I want to close my eyes, go to sleep, and wake up back in my bed last week, when Gia Gill was real and Maddox looked genuinely happy to be near me.
Sparks dance into the darkness, twisting with the smoke toward the nothing stretching above us.
Maddox adds another branch, this one a little larger. “You should rest.”
Maybe he’s right. Maybe things will look brighter in the morning.
I try to make myself comfortable, but with all the debris left by our fall, it’s nearly impossible. There are too many damn sticks and stones, and what if there are spiders or snakes or other creepy crawlies slithering under me? I think I’d rather be swallowed whole by a wolf.
Maddox’s deep voice rumbles over me. “Come here.”
Confused, I glance up to find him motioning me closer.
My stiff back aches as I push off the ground and hobble toward him.
Cautiously, he reaches for my hand and tugs me down so I’m sitting in his lap.
His warmth envelops me like a cozy blanket, his bare chest firm yet soft beneath my cheek as I curl into him, letting him hold me, begging for some of his strength to seep into my bones and replace all these fears plaguing my mind.
I feel his hand run down the length of my hair, reminding me of a time when my mother used to sit me in front of the fireplace and comb through my unruly curls.
“Go to sleep, Nia.”
My name vibrates through his chest, striking my heart.
Nia. Nia. Nia.
“What about you?” I murmur on the tail end of a yawn.
“I will keep you safe.”
Maddox Finch might’ve lied to me before, but in this, I’m certain he’s telling the truth.