Chapter 9
This time when I open my eyes, I’m on a cot in a small cottage.
The cot sits beneath a window with white curtains billowing in the breeze.
I look around and it's not much more than a little shack made of sticks, but it's homey.
There is a small fireplace in the corner with a pot hanging within, obviously some kind of stew cooking.
It smells amazing, and I realize I am ravenous.
I keep looking around and see little tinctures on a small table, some plants and herbs growing in pots placed around the open room. And in the far corner, at a large basin, a younger woman is washing dishes.
I freeze.
“Don’t worry,” she chuckles. “If I were going to kill you, I would have done it in your sleep. Would have been a lot easier.”
I slowly sit up in bed and rub the sleep from my eyes. “Where am I?”
“The Red Barrens. Northeastern portion of the realm. A dreadful place, if you ask me.” She turns, heading my way with a cup of something warm.
I balk, afraid it’s coffee. She laughs. I take a good look at her. She’s beautiful. Probably around twenty, long dark hair, emerald eyes full of that particular fae mischief.
“Don’t worry, it’s tea. Nothing poisonous. I figured it would help with hydration. When I found you out in the sand, you’d been there for who knows how long.”
Sand? I peek out the window. Sure enough, nothing but red desert as far as I can see. Crimson dunes glint in the sunlight.
“Who are you? Why are you helping me?”
“My name is Thalia. And I know who you are.”
I pause, the cup halfway to my face. “You do?”
She smiles a sly smile. “Don’t worry, not everyone in Wynmire supports Auradelle and his crusade. Word of the red-haired beauty with the mark spread quickly throughout the kingdom. Not everyone was a fan when Prince Kaelren was cast out.”
I consider this and take a sip of my tea. “So you live here?” I say as I glance around the room and set my teacup down.
She grins. “No, no one really lives in the Barrens. This is more of a cottage left available for travelers as they are passing through.”
“Convenient.” I look at her over the rim of the cup.
There’s something about her I can’t quite place.
A familiarity in the way she carries herself, in the tilt of her chin when she talks.
It’s nagging at me, but I chalk it up to having met approximately ten thousand fae, all of whom think they’re the most interesting person in any room.
“You know,” Thalia says, leaning against the small table and crossing her arms, “you being out here alone is unusual. From what I’ve heard, you’ve been making quite a name for yourself.”
My stomach drops.
“Rumor is you were last spotted near the Thornwood border, about sixty miles west of here.”
Thalia’s eyes are sharp, watching my reaction carefully. “You’re wanted by Auradelle. There’s a large bounty on your head. Apparently, you went full vigilante, stole half of Kaelren’s crew right out from under him. They sided with you over him, which, as you can imagine, did not go over well.”
I almost choke on my tea. “I did what now? Stole his crew?”
“Half of them. The rest stayed with Kaelren, but he’s been searching for you, too. Whether to bring his people back or drag you home by your hair, nobody seems to agree on.”
“That tracks,” I mutter. Different iteration, same stubborn fae male.
Thalia tilts her head. “You say that like there’s more you’re not sharing.”
“It’s a long story.” I drain the rest of my tea and set the cup down. “So if I’m sixty miles west making everyone’s life difficult, but I’m also sitting here in the middle of a desert drinking tea with a stranger, I’m guessing you had a feeling there was more to this than meets the eye.”
“You could say that.” Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes this time.
There’s something heavier there, something she’s holding back.
“A woman with your face, out here alone in the Barrens with no supplies and no crew? Either you’re incredibly stupid, or you’re not the Elle everyone’s been talking about. ”
“Little of column A, little of column B.”
She snorts. “I like you.”
“Yeah, well, don’t get too attached. I tend to get yanked out of places with little warning.” I stretch my arms above my head and wince. Everything aches. Floating through the void between iterations apparently does a number on your joints.
“Look, Thalia, I appreciate the rescue and the tea, but I need to figure out where I’m going next. I’m looking for—”
Her hand shoots up. “Quiet.”
I shut my mouth. Thalia’s entire body has gone rigid, her eyes fixed on the window behind me. The playfulness is gone. She moves to the far wall and presses her ear against the sticks.
“What is it?” I whisper.
“Troops.” She pulls back from the wall, her jaw tight. “Auradelle’s patrols. They must have gotten word someone was out here.”
I crawl off the cot and duck below the window, peeking over the sill.
Sure enough, I can see them. Dark figures cresting the nearest dune, at least twenty of them, fanning out in a semicircle around the cottage.
Their armor catches the light, that pearl-and-poison sheen I’ve come to associate with nothing good.
“Well, this is just fantastic,” I hiss. “How did they find us this fast?”
“The Barrens are Auradelle’s dumping ground. He sends patrols through regularly to make sure no one’s using the trade routes without his permission.” Thalia is already gathering things: a small pack, a waterskin, a blade that was hidden beneath a loose floorboard.
“We need to go. Now.”
“Go where? They’ve got us surrounded.”
“Not yet. They’re still closing in.” She grabs my arm and pulls me to the center of the room. Her emerald eyes lock onto mine, and I see something flash in them, a shimmer, like light hitting water. “Do you trust me?”
“I met you ten minutes ago.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
I look at the troops through the window, then back at her. “Fine. What’s the plan?”
Thalia closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. The air around us shifts. It’s subtle at first. A coolness, like stepping into shade on a hot day. Then I look down at my hands and almost scream.
They’re gone.
Not gone gone. I can still feel them. I wiggle my fingers and feel the sensation, but there is absolutely nothing visible where my body should be.
“What the—”
“Fae magic,” Thalia whispers. Her voice comes from right beside me, even though I can’t see her either. “It won’t last long. Maybe ten minutes. We need to move.”
She grabs my wrist. I feel her grip, warm, firm, as she pulls me toward the door. We slip out of the cottage just as the first soldiers reach the perimeter. They call to each other, using hand signals I don’t recognize, swords drawn.
We move carefully, stepping lightly in the sand. Every footprint we leave makes my pulse spike, but the soldiers are focused on the cottage, not the ground. Two of them kick the door in, charge inside. I hear the cot overturn. The pot of stew crashes to the floor.
What a waste. That stew smelled incredible.
Thalia’s hand squeezes mine, guiding me between two soldiers standing close enough to touch. I hold my breath. One turns his head slightly, nostrils flaring. For a horrible second, I think he can smell us. Then someone shouts from inside the cottage. He turns away.
We keep moving, one agonizing step at a time, until we crest the nearest dune and start down the other side. The sand is loose here. Every step sends small cascades of red grains sliding downward. I grit my teeth, focus on not face-planting.
When we reach the bottom, the shimmer fades. I watch my hands come back into view, fingers first, then palms, then arms, like someone slowly painting me back into the world.
“That’s all I’ve got,” Thalia says, breathing hard. She’s visible again too. She looks drained.
“We need to split up.”
“What? No, I just got rescued. I’m not wandering this desert alone.”
“You won’t be alone for long.” Thalia’s expression changes. The young woman who was making tea five minutes ago is gone. In her place is someone older than her years, someone carrying a weight I don’t fully understand. She grabs me by the collar of my shirt and yanks me close.
“The Sage spoke with me too.”
I blink. “What?”
“The Sage. They told me to find you. They told me to tell you that you have to find Kaelren and get back to the present before you both become permanently stuck in whatever iteration you’re in.
” Her grip tightens on my collar. “If you don’t, both Earth and Wynmire will be destroyed.
Permanently. No more resets. No more chances. ”
My blood runs cold. “How do you know about the Sage? How do you know about the iterations? Who are you—”
But she’s already letting go. Already backing away. Her eyes hold mine for one more second, and there it is again: that familiarity, that something I can’t name, and then she turns and runs, disappearing over the next dune before I can get another word out.
“Thalia!” I shout, but the wind eats my voice.
She’s gone.
I stand there for a moment, sand blowing against my legs, trying to process what just happened. The Sage spoke with her. The same Sage who’s been pulling strings since this whole mess started. Which means Thalia isn’t just some random traveler who happened to find me in the desert.
But I don’t have time to figure out who she really is, because behind me, I can hear the soldiers shouting. They’ve figured out the cottage is empty. It won’t take long for them to start fanning out across the dunes.
I take off in the opposite direction from Thalia, keeping low and using the contour of the dunes for cover. The sun is brutal, bearing down on me like it has a personal vendetta. My throat is already dry again, and I wish I’d grabbed that water skin before we ran.