Chapter Thirteen
Thirteen
What once felt like a forest of magic has now become a haunted graveyard.
After Shaye’s tales, we walk in silence for hours.
Every forgotten house left to ruin and rot is now a tombstone in my eyes.
Every tree is a marker of some fallen fae, all butchered in their beds so that Boltov could rule unquestioned.
There’s a deep ache in me I can’t explain. Human. Fae. Suffering is universal. It’d be impossible to look on this barren landscape and not feel sorrow for the horrors that have been wrought.
Maybe it’s those stories and their uncomfortable truths that help me at least compartmentalize what happened with the Butcher.
It wasn’t as if I meant to kill him. The magic acted on its own.
Moreover, if I hadn’t taken his life, he was certain to kill me and Davien.
And…it doesn’t sound like he was someone innocent of atrocities.
Maybe by ending his life, I saved another beyond the two of us?
That’s a dangerous logic. But I need to keep my sanity together somehow right now.
I don’t really have any hours in the day available to allocate to having an emotional breakdown. Too busy surviving.
As dawn breaks, the little motes of light rise from the moss and begin to dance among the trees once more.
They illuminate the air, buzzing around me with a happiness that is now muted by the truth.
I wonder if they are actually spirits of murdered fae.
But that’s one question I won’t indulge my curiosity by asking.
We move without incident through the day.
Everyone remains on alert, scanning the horizon at all points.
Giles and Shaye have taken wide sweeps of the woods around us, remaining within view but far enough that they can see around distant trees and look across ridges that might be too high for the rest of us.
Hol, Oren, Davien, and I remain in a pack, Oren and Davien at the front, Hol and I behind. Though there isn’t much conversation happening.
Just like Davien promised, we hike all day through the woods. My stomach is practically roaring by nightfall and my feet are aching. It doesn’t matter how soft the moss is, the support of a pair of shoes would make all the difference for my throbbing feet.
“We should break for dinner,” Hol says, loud enough that it gets Davien’s and Oren’s attention.
“We need to keep moving.” In contrast to his words, Davien stops. “We can’t rest until we’re in Acolyte territory.”
“I’m not saying rest. I’m saying stop for food.” Hol glances in my direction and then back to Davien with a pointed look. “Just a short break.”
Davien’s eyes settle on me. I purse my lips, as I can feel him assessing me from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet. Shaye’s earlier words stick with me and I try to hold my head high, even though I know I currently possess all the dignity of a disheveled raccoon.
“Do you need to stop?” he asks me.
“I can keep going,” I force myself to say although I want to shout, Five minutes, please! I’m not going to slow them down. And the faster I help him get this magic out of me, the faster I can go home and get out of this deadly situation I was never meant to be in.
“Good, we carry on, then.”
“Davien—”
“Your true king has spoken.” Davien cuts off Hol with a glare. “If we keep walking, we should cross the Crystal River by dawn.”
“Very well.” Hol folds his arms.
“Sire, true king, permission to speak freely?” Shaye has perched herself on the top of a rock we’re passing by. She’s overheard the whole conversation.
“Granted,” he growls.
“You’re being an ass.” Shaye smirks. “That is all.”
Davien huffs and turns his back to us, storms off. I think I see Oren give the slightest bit of a chuckle. I smelled no smoke attached to Shaye’s comment, which means she was telling the truth about him being an ass—at least as far as she sees it. I bite back a snicker.
But a few hours later, I don’t even have the energy for playful amusements. Right foot. Left foot. That’s all I have the strength for.
Right foot, left foot, I echo in my mind as I move.
I’m telling my legs to bend while begging my feet to hold me upright.
I thought I knew the depths of strength I could draw from, what I could accomplish when forced to.
But this is shattering every previous notion I had and putting more to the test.
All at once, the trees break and the sound of rushing water assaults my ears.
I blink. I’m standing at the edge of a riverbank unlike any I’ve ever seen.
It’s lined not with sand or rock but crystal.
Hundreds of thousands of shimmering shards reflect the moonlight like glass.
Magic swirls underneath the water, split into a thousand fractals by the stones.
“This must be the Crystal River,” I murmur with relief.
“It is,” Shaye affirms.
Without warning, she scoops me up into her strong arms. I wrap my arms around her neck like I did with Davien. Even my arms feel tired. Though who knows why; I didn’t even use them today.
Shaye leaps into the sky, flapping her butterfly wings.
Hol is at our side, using a pair of white bat-like wings that he dismisses with a thought on the opposite bank.
Shaye’s flight is stronger and more sure than Davien’s.
She mentioned something about Davien being weakened by being cut off from the magic of this world.
Perhaps that’s why his wings have that perpetually tattered look to them.
Davien crosses the gap with Giles in his arms. Sure enough, he leaps and glides rather than truly flying like Shaye.
But my cheeks still warm slightly as I remember being in his arms, those first sensations of weightlessness as we drifted through the starry sky.
Those brief seconds where things truly seemed like they were starting anew between us.
My landing is far more graceful after my second experience of flight than it was after the first. We touch down on the bank on the other side. As soon as my feet meet the damp earth, a shiver runs through me. Shaye grips my shoulders.
“Give it a moment, it’ll pass.”
“What…” My teeth chatter so violently I can’t finish my question. Luckily Shaye seems to know what I’m going to ask.
“The Crystal River is one of the Acolytes’ demarcation lines. You’ve left the control of the Blood Court and we have heavily warded our lands against them. The magic is feeling you out…making sure you’re not foe.”
Sure enough, as she speaks, the feeling of hands rubbing all over my body subsides, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. I force another shiver, trying to shake the sensation. “What would happen if I were foe?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Shaye grins. Before I can press her, she looks at Davien. “There’s an outpost not far from here. We can make camp—”
“We continue on to Dreamsong,” Davien says, brushing past us.
“Dreamsong is another half a day’s walk.” Shaye’s hands fall from my shoulders and she rushes to Davien’s side. “You have to stop. She has to stop.”
Davien looks back at me with the same agitation as before. “You can heal yourself, can’t you?”
“I don’t know,” I murmur. “I have healed myself, but I’m not sure how—”
“Good. Restore strength to your muscles with the king’s magic and carry on with the rest of us.”
“My lord, I think Shaye—” Oren starts.
“I have spoken!” Davien’s voice echoes between the trees.
“Katria…” Oren begins softly.
“I’m all right.” My turn to interrupt him. “Don’t worry about me. I can keep going.”
Oren regards me skeptically but says nothing. I’m not giving in. I won’t be the weak human they expect, ready to topple over at any second. I can keep going.
If only I could use the power on command…I stare at my swollen feet. I noticed a while back they’re leaving little blood spots on the moss where I walk. Despite the soft ground, my feet have become nothing but blisters that are now ripping open.
I hear the fae talk around me, but I’m too focused on my aching feet to pay attention to the words being said.
Heal, I think. Heal! But the magic does nothing.
I didn’t even believe magic was real until today; why do I think I can suddenly use it on command?
Or was it yesterday? I blink up at the sky. What day is it?
I’ve been walking forever…
The world tilts as I begin to sway. Every step is shakier than the last. My knees threaten to lock or give out.
Right foot.
Left foot.
Shaye says something to me but it’s muffled. I blink several times. The trees are becoming hazy. There’s something wrong with my eyes and ears.
“Almost there,” I think she says.
Almost…not soon enough.
Right foot.
Left foot.
Dawn has broken. The forest is alive once more. But I enjoy none of it. I’m an automaton. The man with the bright green eyes looks back every now and then to assure himself that I’m still upright.
“Look,” Giles says from some distant place. “It’s Dreamsong.”
We stand at the top of a ridge where the trees have broken. Below us, a city has been erected. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. My eyes water as the world goes sideways. The blurry metropolis tilts, spinning as I do.
Everything goes black.
I groan softly, rolling over on my feather mattress. The duvet is heavy on me. It’s as soft as it always is, pulled right up to my ears, blocking out the late morning’s sunlight.
As I yawn, consciousness slowly returns to me. I had the strangest dream. It was a long dream too. And so vivid…I dreamed I was in the land of the fae, that I was pulled there following a ritual in the woods.
Laughing softly at myself, I push back the covers, expecting to be met with my room at Lord Fenwood’s manor. I stop with a sharp inhale. This is not that room.
Sheer curtains waft in the breezes of a late afternoon, teasing me with glimpses of a city sprawling beneath my second-story arched windows.
The bed is a simple platform, as comfortable as anything but a stark reminder that I am very far from anything remotely familiar.
I run my hands over the linens. They’re almost identical to the ones at Davien’s estate.
Did he import them from Midscape? I wonder. He must have. It occurs to me I’ve never felt any material this buttery soft. Of course it was made by magic.
My room is spare. Whitewashed walls are split by dark beams that support a high ceiling. There’s a mirror above a dresser to the right of the bed. A chair is situated by the far opening.
But…that’s it.
I push back the covers and sit cross-legged to massage my feet. Just like the last time I woke up in this land, I’ve healed. The soles of my feet show no signs of blistering or trauma.
So I have magic. And I can use it. Just not consciously. “Great, simply fantastic.”
When I stand, I notice that my robe and nightgown are nowhere to be seen.
I’m dressed in a simple silken shift. Delicate embroidery lines the neck, a similar design to the markings Shaye and Giles have on their flesh.
I’m too grateful to be out of those soiled clothes to be horrified by the idea that someone stripped me down while I was unconscious.
I inspect myself in the mirror, turning right and left.
The usual pallor of my skin has brightened.
My hair seems a richer, more vibrant chestnut.
This is more than the change I saw from the good food and easy life of Lord Fenwood’s manor.
I look positively radiant. I should get forbidden ancient magic more often.
As I twist, though, I notice the low-cut back exposes the upper edge of the gnarled scars that stretch between my shoulder blades.
Whoever dressed me must’ve seen it. I feel sick and try to situate my hair over the old injuries.
The scars ache at my mere acknowledgment of them, so I try to put it from my mind.
I open the door to my room and poke my head into the hallway. There’s no one. I start down the hall toward a stairway. The other doors along the hall are closed—more bedrooms, I presume.
Voices drift up from the bottom of the stairs. They’re murmured and soft. But one sticks out.
“Okay, I think Shaye said it clearly enough. But just for emphasis: You were being an ass. Like a donkey. But more stubborn and frustrating.” Giles. And I suspect I know just who he’s speaking to.
I’m not intending to creep down the stairs; it just sort of works out that way. My footsteps are light enough that no one notices me. And it’s not my fault that the table in the great hall is positioned in such a way that no one sitting at it has a clear view of me when I emerge.
“I was trying to keep us safe,” Davien insists.
“You were trying to wear her down,” Shaye says, shoveling food into her mouth.
“Either because you were frustrated with her because she has the magic or because you were trying to push her to the point of using the magic for you again so you could see it. Regardless, you were still an ass, and you should get yourself together. It’s no way for a king to act. ”
Davien glares at her. “We were being hunted by the Butchers.”
“There was a single Butcher, whom we killed. Well, she killed. Great trick, that, especially to do it without a ritual to prepare the power. Once you get the magic, you should learn how to do it too.” Giles tears a piece off a loaf of bread and takes a large bite.
He continues talking with his mouth full.
“We might be the town screwups about most things, but we can at least make sure no one lives to tell the tale of how badly we mess up.”
“Just like that woman in the woods,” Hol murmurs over his goblet.
“Exactly like that Butcher in the woods,” Giles agrees.
They’re talking about the woman who attacked me, I realize. Shaye had mentioned something about patrolling the woods on either side of the Fade. I might owe my life to more than just Davien.
“She exploded that man. A magical outburst like that certainly drew the attention of fae near and far,” Davien insists.
“Good thing no one lives in the woods, huh?” Giles grins.
“I’m certain King Wotor felt it.” Davien leans across the table. His voice becomes heavy and serious. The teasing stops: “Which means he’s going to come after me and, by extension, her. He knows the old magic has returned to these lands.”
“Who’s King Wotor?” I ask, drawing their attention to me. “Yes, hello, just woke up. Is he the head Boltov?”
“He is. King Wotor Boltov the…what number are we on? The second or third now? Brothers keep killing each other for the crown.” Giles leans back in his chair, looking oddly smug. “Just stick with Boltov because it’s easier. Anyway, he’s going to try to kill you the first chance he gets.”
“Lovely. I’m noticing a trend—in the fae world, everything is going to kill everything sooner or later.”
“Our sweet deadly home,” Giles muses to Hol, who rolls his eyes in reply.
“So how do we make sure that doesn’t happen to me? Because I very much like breathing.”
“Now that you’re up, the first step is to talk to Vena.” Davien stands. “If anyone will know what to do…it’s her.”