Chapter 33
Aoife
Isat next to Lor in front of the campfire, the sun barely skimming the horizon, and Leena sat across from us.
Our clothes had dried and I was back in my leather trousers and tunic. Goosebumps pebbled my skin, and I shivered. Then warmth blanketed me, a cloak around my shoulders. Lor’s cloak. I stared at him with wide eyes as he tipped his head, and I summoned a tight smile of thanks.
Around us, the rebel members packed tents, pots and pans clanging as they put them in crates and loaded everything into carts that would travel the mountain road.
Leena dragged a stick through the dirt, talking to Lor about their next mission, the route they were taking, what new brotherhood mission they were hoping to foil.
I tried to pay attention, but Lor’s scent of musk and bergamot surrounded me, his cloak smelling of him. That same scent that had washed over me last night when he’d slipped into my tent and demanded I let him sleep next to me.
Then there’d been that moment where he’d bent his head, breath warm against my cheek, lips so dangerously close. Like he’d wanted to kiss me.
We’d had too many of those moments lately, moments that were clouding my mind. I swore I’d never be chained again. Not in slavery. Not in marriage. Not in any way.
But I’d be lying to myself if I said I hadn’t wanted to kiss Lor last night. If I wasn’t curious about what kind of lover he’d be. If he’d be as caring and giving in bed as he was in every other area of his life.
Heat flushed my body, and I gritted my teeth, willing myself to stop these ridiculous thoughts.
A week of us getting along and a few good moments between us didn’t erase all the other complications, didn’t erase the fact that I didn’t want to be someone’s wife.
Or that Lor didn’t want to be someone’s husband.
Lor swore beside me. I’d gotten so caught up in my thoughts I hadn’t heard anything he and Leena had said.
I looked over to see his face ashen, his hands clenched at his sides.
“So that’s what the brotherhood wants,” Lor said. “Just like I suspected. It doesn’t end with conquering Fairwitch Isle and our magical castle. They want the Fair Folk as well. And now that Ronan has escaped, he’ll lead the brotherhood right to us.”
His jaw clenched so tight I thought he might crack his molars.
My stomach dropped straight to the ground. “How?” I asked. “How can the brotherhood capture us?”
“They have a weapon,” Leena said. “Their alchemists have been working on this particular potion for years. It’s one that they intend to use on the Fair Folk when they find them.
They’re on the other side of the continent as we speak, about to test the weapon out on a kingdom they’ve been eyeing.
We’re to meet them there in one weeks’ time. ”
“So you can help them conquer this kingdom?” I asked.
Leena nodded. “Yes, but we obviously have our own plans to undermine the mission, to keep them from getting this magic they want.”
Lor’s brows drew together. “What’s so special about this kingdom?”
“It was the known refuge for the godwitch of death, and apparently they have magic that can bring back the dead. But not in a good way.” Leena shuddered.
“It brings back the physical bodies of the dead, but not the souls. This kingdom has protected this magic from being used for harm for centuries.”
Lor swore. “And the brotherhood wants to take it, and what? Raise an army of the dead?”
Leena raised an eyebrow, and the thought of dead people marching around, fighting, horrified me.
Lor shook his head as icy dread filled me. “What is the weapon? What do they plan to do to the Fair Folk, exactly?”
Leena’s gaze flicked to me, her frown deepening.
“They want to enslave the Fair Folk again. They want to be like the godwitches, and Lor, they have the magic to do it. The power to do it. If they get ahold of the Fair Folk and can force them into slavery again, they’ll be unstoppable.
Your only luck right now is that they’re on the other side of the continent preparing to attack Bolivare. You have time to prepare.”
Raise an army of the dead. This was so much worse than I ever could’ve imagined. We couldn’t be enslaved again. We wouldn’t survive it. Chains tightened around my wrists, around my ankles, and the ground tilted.
Lor’s arm was around me, steadying me, and I took a few deep breaths, coming back to myself.
A few of the brotherhood members struck down the single remaining tent in the clearing. “We need to get a move on,” one of them called to Leena.
She stood. “The good news is we know Ronan will be headed to Bolivare, and with a few hard days travel, we should be able to catch up to him. We’re going to stop him from reaching the brotherhood and revealing your location.”
Lor’s head dropped into his hands. “I should’ve done more. I should’ve—”
I reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping his words.
I couldn’t help myself seeing how overcome with guilt he was, how he was once again taking all the responsibility for a series of events that weren’t his fault.
How Arthon’s poisoned words were probably in his head right now, making him doubt himself.
If Arthon were still alive, I’d kill him for what he did to Lor, for his unbelievable cruelty.
“You did everything you could,” Leena said.
She glanced behind her at her company moving out.
“Get back to Fairwitch Isle, and don’t leave again.
It’s too risky. The brotherhood knows you’re harboring the Fair Folk by now.
They’re scouring every inch of the continent for your castle, and if Ronan reaches them, they’ll find it. Leave getting Ronan to us.”
Lor stood and gave a curt nod, and Leena wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tight. He rested his head atop hers, and my stomach clenched at the sight, at how familiar they were with each other.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” The rebel leader stepped away and reached inside her cloak, pulling out a bunch of rolled up scrolls, tied neatly with red twine.
Lor froze for a moment, then took them, staring at them in awe.
“I thought you might want these,” she said, then bowed. “Your Majesties. Safe travels. I hope next time we meet it’s under better circumstances.”
“Thank you,” I said as she walked away and disappeared into the forest after the other rebels.
The morning sun shone high now, and I swept the cloak off my back and handed it to Lor, who was still focused on those scrolls.
He untied the twine, and stretched one out, slow and deliberate. I couldn’t help but look at what Leena had given him. Love letters, perhaps? A memory from their past? Important documents about this supposed brotherhood weapon?
I leaned over, and what I saw wasn’t any of that: it was painted landscapes. Places I recognized from around the continent of Aubergn. The current one he stared at was the rocky hills of the south, a pinkish-orange sky above the stark green and stone.
“That’s beautiful,” I murmured.
His head snapped up like he’d just remembered I was there.
“It’s of my home. Fairwitch Isle, I mean.
Where the castle used to be before it started moving.
It’s where I grew up.” He rolled up the scrolls and tucked them into the inside pocket of his cloak, all business again, and I found myself disappointed.
For a moment, I thought he’d been about to tell me more, to share this piece of his life with me that he’d apparently shared with Leena.
“Speaking of Fairwitch Isle,” he continued, “we should get back.”
I wanted to ask him more about the scrolls, why Leena had given them to him.
Were they something he’d left behind? Had she been the one to paint them?
Maybe a memento from her? But we didn’t have time.
Now that we’d found what we were looking for, I could portal us back to Fairwitch Isle, and we could relay the information we’d discovered to the council.
I stretched out a hand, summoning my portal magic and taking me and Lor back to our home.