Chapter 24
VALANCE
Day became night once again, the sky a heavy dark. Around the boat, the sea churned and swelled, my stomach rolling as I watched each dip and rise beyond our steady course. Thank goodness those actions did not affect us.
The night aged, the sea endless. I prayed for its end, to see something more than the tiny islands we passed occasionally. Home to pixie groves, to bogarts, one even an island of nothing but snakes—serpents worse than any Chalk Snake.
“Are you okay?” Kormac asked, not having to row with my cousins in charge.
I shivered beside him, pushed up against his flesh with a thick woolen blanket wrapped around me—provided by the old woman.
She was gone now, having vanished at sunset.
Until Winter…
“I’m fine,” I said.
“Are you?”
“As fine as I can be with my cousins behind me.”
“Are they like your grandmother? Of course they are, seeing as they were there to see you die.”
“Spoiled,” I said. “Rotten to the core. Entitled beyond belief. Both of them were vile to servants, often beating them for not being good enough. Just awful people.”
“You never beat servants?” he asked.
“Never. They are there to help, to serve. Perform a duty. Why would I want to make their lives miserable? I offer kindness and respect, only rescinding it when not returned. I am cruel when cruelty is warranted.”
He lowered his gaze. “That’s a surprise.”
“Coming from me?”
“Yes.”
“I know. With my reputation, you would think I tortured anyone I got my hands on. But no. It is only for those who deserve it.”
“Like me. Sorry. We’re not doing this.” He winced.
He shuffled beside me, wrapped in a blanket of his own. His body warmth a wonderful entity keeping the worst shivers away. Gentle, a world away from the rough human he’d been back on the shores of Summer in that shack.
Rough.
Brutal.
Amazing.
“I’m sorry, Valance.”
We fell into silence.
“Can I ask you something?” I said, breaking it.
“What is it?”
“How did you stand the water when you crossed to Summer?”
He took a few moments to answer. “It wasn’t fun. But when you’re determined enough to get something done, you… Sorry.” He sighed. “Well, you know why we were coming to Summer, so we don’t need to go through it again.”
“I know. And I understand. You endure because you want to see it done. Such as us getting to Winter.”
“Like in anything. Even baking.”
I couldn’t help the small smile of puzzlement lifting the corners of my mouth. “Baking?”
He nodded. “Baking bread. It’s painful, a real endurance of proving and kneading. I hate it, but I get through it because I know the end result is worth it. With plenty of butter as a reward.”
I laughed. “Sounds like you enjoy your bread.”
“I really do.”
I found myself pushing against him. For more of that warmth, to envelop myself in more closeness. I refrained from resting my head on his shoulder, despite the overwhelming desire to do so.
“I can see land,” he said after more silence.
I could too, the shadow of it just barely there on the horizon.
“Autumn,” I whispered. “Thank goodness.”
Soon we would be on dry land, seeing more than the waves, scared of falling in, of hunting ships catching up with us.
Not that we would be any safer in Autumn.
Things would be worse there. Lord Quentin Dach held the southern parts of the country, having pushed back unseelie rebels—both human and Fomorian alike—into the north.
And suffered his own endless war within a war.
Forever shutting down raids while performing them himself.
He was a Gentry fae, though. So things may have changed.
Thankfully, we weren’t heading for the south and having to cross the entire country. That would be asking for trouble.
Ah, the lesser of the two troubles.
Angry butterflies fluttered in my stomach, pushing against my chest. A reminder of the long road still ahead. I suffered through their swarming until the dark shore came into full view.
Fractured rain clouds rolled across the moon, drowning out some of the glow. Rain fell, starting as a drizzle, becoming a heavy downpour the moment the boat reached the shallows.
The vessel bumped the sand beneath, continuing to push its way up until it was beached. My cousins got out of the boat first, strode up the wet sand littered with seaweed and other debris brought up by the tide.
After several steps, they collapsed.
I climbed out of the boat, wrapping the blanket around me, pushing my drenched hair out of my eyes.
“Daro? Lilybeth?”
Their bodies didn’t so much as twitch.
“Are they dead?” Kormac asked beside me.
Tiny crabs burrowed out of the sand, black with silver eyes. Crawled over the bodies of my cousins, leaving no part uncovered. Clicking and crunching. I heaved at the sound, at the notion of those tiny sea creatures devouring those bodies.
A notion very much a grim reality.
“By the gods,” Kormac said beside me, arm slipping around my waist.
I froze, my heaving at an end.
His arm…
His strength…
The crabs receded, leaving nothing behind but bones picked clean of flesh and drenched Sidhe silks. They dug back into the sand. The bones followed, sinking out of sight.
“Gods…” Kormac said. “That was… horrible.”
I drew some deep breaths, drinking in the sea air. “They’re gone.”
“We need to be gone, too,” he said.
His voice stirred my senses. I took in the dark beach, the debris. The sand was only a small part of it, rocky terrain taking over in both directions along the coast for as far as I could see. A sailor’s nightmare. How many ships had struck those jagged barriers?
Danu, the temperature would kill us. We really did need to be gone and in warmth.
A dense forest lay beyond the beach. Ominous, the only place to go other than traversing rocks.
“A pity we could not have arrived in a port somewhere,” I said.
“And be killed.”
“Would have been nicer, though,” I said through chattering teeth. The blanket was now soaked through.
His arm still sat around my waist.
“Let’s find shelter,” he said softly.
We walked quickly up the beach toward the maw of the forest.
The northeast of Autumn. Unseelie territory. Fomorian territory. My sworn enemies. Where my brother had died—his body tossed into the river close to Kormac’s village.
Murdered. My brother. By the human’s people.
“Waterfrost Forest,” Kormac said.
“I see.” In my studies of Faerie, a passion from my childhood, I’d read about this forest. Beautiful in sunlight when Autumn mornings began with frost.
Right now, the trees were silent sentinels, tall and old and close together. Keepers of knowledge of years past, never to be told. A muddy dirt path cut through them, curving into the darkness they created.
My feet sunk into the soupy mess of the path.
“Danu!” I hissed.
“Let me carry you,” Kormac offered.
Instinctively, I went to dismiss him. Yet he wore boots. I didn’t. If I tried to move in this cold mud, our progress would be slow.
I nodded. He swept me into his arms and moved with deft speed, weaving through the forest until he found us a cave. He put me down outside the dark void, sniffed the air. Crept forward.
“This isn’t deep,” he said. “Nothing lives here.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Come on.” He took my arm and led me inside.
Darkness, feet now on rock. Warmer than outside.
“Is it strange I find this comforting?” I asked.
“Maybe you’re getting used to outdoor living.”
“When this is over, I never want to see a cave again.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he said. “They can be cozy.”
“So can a bedroom with a roaring fire.”
“Stop that teasing talk,” he said.
I laughed, waiting in darkness, unable to see his face.
“Speaking of which,” he added. “I need to get a fire going.”
“Isn’t that impossible in the rain?” I wondered.
“Difficult but not impossible. Wait here.”
It was my turn to reach out and grab him. “Where are you going?”
“To find wood we can burn. And food.”
“Please… Don’t leave me.”
His hand came to rest on mine. “Do you want to freeze to death? Because you will. You’re soaked to the skin, and the nights are bitter in this part of the world.”
“I can feel that,” I said, in need of respite from this unpleasant air. “And we have Winter to look forward to.”
He chuckled. “Let me go. I won’t be long. I won’t go far.”
I released him, shivering. “Fine.”
“Stay here.”
“Trust me, I will not be going anywhere.”
True to his word, he wasn’t long. I watched him run through the dark as I drank rainwater running off the side of the cave entrance, fragments of moonlight revealing his actions. His yellow clothing helped. That needed to go, though. It made him a target.
Speaking of clothes, they were bulging at the sides, at his stomach.
“What’s under there?” I asked.
“I found some dry wood,” he said, hurrying past me. “In another cave nearby, and some leaves. Stuffed myself silly.”
“Great.”
He got to work, using rocks as flint, the sparks in the dark becoming a small flame. He nurtured it, let it grow. Before long, the cave filled with wonderful heat and light. And I saw his face again, an orange glow dancing on his lovely features.
He watched me, pushing a dark curl behind his ear. “Come closer.”
I removed the sodden blanket, keeping the itchy Spring robes on. I sat with him by the fire, cross-legged. Holding out my hands, skin drinking in the heat.
“This is wonderful.”
He nodded, getting his fill of heat.
“I found some berries,” he said.
“Great. Thank you.”
“We’ll hunt for meat tomorrow. Find ourselves some horses. There’s a stable north of here we can get some from.”
“Acquire them with what?”
“I mean borrow.”
“I see.” I rubbed at my arms with my warm hands. “And when you say borrow, I gather you mean steal?”
“That would be correct.” He handed me some indigo-colored berries.
“Thank you.” I ate one. At first bitter, then sweet.
Dry land and food, no more sea. Thank Danu for this quiet moment, for my robes drying against my skin. At least I wasn’t naked.
Kormac moved closer to me, eating three berries at a time.
“For warmth,” he said, addressing the side of his body pressing against mine.
“Of course.”
“There’s plenty of berries.”
“Thank you for getting them.”
His expression took on seriousness. “I have to keep you safe. I have to see this through. For you. For me.”
I picked up a stick and poked the fire. “Outside of the bond, what is the truth?”
“It’ll be a struggle to tell you,” he said.
“Hateful?”
He slowly shook his head, gaze on the fire. “Actually, no.”
“No?”
“I’m finding I want you around, that I want to help you.”
The surprise was a flare of odd pain in my chest. Not unpleasant, just strange.
“Not the magic talking,” he continued, “but me. I think it’s me.” A deep, heavy sigh. “I’m struggling with that.”
How could he not? How could we both not struggle with the softening of our hatred? If that is what was happening.
“You’ve been done dirty,” he said. “They’re supposed to be your people.” He shook his head. “I get that iron is scary, especially iron that burns. But—”
“What did you say?” I interrupted him. “Iron that burns?”
He nodded. He explained.
“It burns? Iron fires?” My throat closed up for the briefest of moments. A coldness seeped into my bones. “A weapon of iron fire?”
“I think so.”
Iron. Enough to scare my father and anyone else with sense. Weapons of iron were a formidable nightmare. Swords and arrows and spears. But fire? I’d never considered a weapon outside of something to hold, to stab and crush and pierce.
But fire…
“This isn’t possible,” I said.
“It’s what I was told,” Kormac countered. “I didn’t see anything for myself.”
An icy shiver danced in my bones with the rest of the cold. “The Gentry, with the power of the unseelie court and the seelie deserters, will be unstoppable. This will be the age of Gentry. Even the Fomorian fae cannot wrestle power from them.”
Unless Lasair gave it a good try…
“Not how Lasair wanted things to turn out,” Kormac said.
Burning iron…
Danu.
The rain continued to fall as more silence spread between us.
“I had a vision. A strange one,” I said to break it.
“The ruins like before?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “Snow and colorful lights and stars.”
“I had the same one.”
“You did?”
“It made no sense. Like the rest of this quest.”
“We both shared the same vision?”
“If only it showed us both some answers,” he responded.
“True. I’m assuming it reflects our connection somehow. Which is probably a ridiculously obvious statement.”
“There’s nothing ridiculous about it.”
I shuffled closer to him, in the grip of exhaustion. Releasing a yawn, I began to fade.
“Use my shoulder,” he said.
“Sorry?” Oh, I’d heard him.
“You can if you like. I have good shoulders.”
“How modest of you.”
He shrugged, a mischievous grin on his face. “Being honest.”
I yawned again. “What about you?”
“I’m okay. I don’t need a shoulder to lean on. At least not for the time being.”
“Thank you. Are you sure?”
His mischief was gone. “I offered, didn’t I? You need sleep.”
“We both need sleep.”
“Yes.”
Tentatively, I rested my head on his broad shoulder. He was correct in his statement—he really did have good shoulders. Nestling closer to me, his arm came to rest across my shoulders. His touch didn’t repel me. I wasn’t confused by it. I embraced its presence.
His heat, the fire’s warmth, they worked together to drag me away into sleep.