Chapter Twenty-Two
Twenty-Two
“What do we do now?” I look at each of them in turn.
“We’ve been working on a plan,” Davien says. His calmness is unexpectedly grating.
“I hope it’s a good one because I’ve no interest in dying.”
“I have no interest in seeing you die.” The muscles in his cheeks tense. “Besides, the king doesn’t care about you, he cares about the magic within you. The sooner we get the magic out, the sooner you’ll be safe.”
“Then I take it we’ve made progress on that front?” I look from Vena to Allor and back to Davien.
“We have an idea.”
I’d like something more secure-sounding than “an idea,” but if it’s the best we have right now…“Which is?”
“To the north of us, right at the edge of the mer folk’s borders, is the Lake of Anointing,” Vena says.
“It is where all the old kings went before their coronation to bathe in the waters closest to the Tree of Life at the world’s edge.
If there’s anything that can connect you enough with the king’s power to pass it to Davien, it’s those waters. ”
A Tree of Life, the world’s edge. I gloss over the elements that don’t seem critical to keeping me alive. “Wouldn’t Boltov think we’ll be heading there?”
“He won’t if I tell him you’re hunkering down here.” Allor shrugs.
“You have so much sway over the king.” I press my lips together to keep from scowling.
“I do what I can. He has no reason not to trust me.”
“Will you tell him that Davien and I are bracing for attack here?” Her earlier remark could’ve been some clever fae sidestepping.
“Of course I will.” She smiles wider. “Do you have any reason to doubt me?”
“Enough, both of you.” Davien sounds agitated.
I shoot him a glare. But he’s right. We have other, more pressing matters. And even if Allor isn’t a real ally, there’s very little I can do to prove that to Davien and Vena. That much has been made clear to me.
“Will Boltov be guarding the Lake of Anointing?” I ask.
“It wouldn’t be worth the manpower to him. The path there isn’t easy. It was part of the trials of aspiring kings to traverse the haunted fogs, a rite of passage.”
“Oh, there’s also haunted fogs to get to the magic lake without dying at the hands of Butchers. Lovely.” I fold my arms.
“If you have a better plan, I’d love to hear it.” Davien crosses his arms as well, head cocked to the side, staring down at me. Why does his smugness somehow make him more frustrating and more attractive in equal measure?
“You know I don’t.”
“Then it’s settled. You go and tell Boltov that we’ve been alerted to the movements of his armies and are bracing ourselves here for the attack, fortifying Dreamsong’s barriers,” he says to Allor.
Then he faces Vena. “Please prepare everything we might need for our journey and then focus on readying Dreamsong for whatever Boltov might bring to our doorstep.”
Vena rests her hand on Davien’s biceps. “What our people need to protect us is a king—a true king, reunited with the trio of Aviness’s powers. Worry not for Dreamsong and focus on regaining your birthright, Davien. Return to us a conqueror.”
“I shall.” Davien stands a little taller.
“When do we leave?” I ask.
“As soon as we can.” Davien makes his way toward me. To my surprise, he takes my hand in his. I can’t stop the flush that rises to my cheeks at the unexpected touch. His doing this so publicly somehow feels even more intimate and desperate. “There’s not a moment to spare.”
Within the hour, four horses have been tacked.
Their saddlebags are full of supplies that are just finished being loaded as we emerge into the square.
Hol and Oren have opted to stay behind and help defend Dreamsong—Oren will focus on finishing the evacuation tunnel, and Hol will help the city guard.
So it is just Shaye, Giles, Davien, and myself on the road.
The afternoon sun shines happily on the oblivious city. People are still going about their daily affairs as though nothing is amiss. The square is still set up for celebrations. There’s no sign of the impending battle.
“When will Vena tell them?” I ask Davien as we descend the short stairway to where the horses are waiting.
“When the time is right.” Davien swings up into his saddle somewhat clumsily, and it takes four adjustments until he’s found a comfortable seat.
His horse is a speckled gray stallion, a strong boy whose muscles speak of good breeding and even better stable hands.
Were it not for the intensity this horse exudes, he would remind me of Misty.
“And when will that be?” I ask, trying to push thoughts of my long-lost mount from my mind. I hope that with all the money my family gained, they found enough to spare to take care of her. Maybe when I return, I can take some of the coin Davien left me in that house and purchase my horse from them.
Or maybe when I return I’ll just steal Misty in the night.
No one knows the stables and grounds better than I.
And after spending weeks surviving in the fae wilds, the thought of confronting my family or thieving from under their noses is far less frightening than it would have been months ago.
Old gods, maybe I’ll be brave enough to just tell them I’m taking Misty and say to Laura, Come with me.
“That’s not for us to worry about.” He motions to the all-white mare at his side. “We just need to focus on getting to the Lake of Anointing as fast as possible. It’ll be a hard ride for two days to make it there. Do you need help getting up on your horse?”
I snort. Did he mistake my checking the horse’s saddle and bridle for uncertainty about riding? He’ll certainly be in for a surprise today. “I think I’ll be fine.”
I put my foot in the stirrup with confidence and swing up.
The saddle is broken in and worn in all the right places but still strong and of quality make.
I give the horse a pat on the neck, then take the reins with an easy grip.
I don’t know this mount. For all my confidence, I should still be careful.
Last thing I want is to spook the girl or push her too hard and be thrown.
“Are we ready?” Shaye asks. “Daylight is burning.”
“Lead on.” Davien nods.
Shaye clicks her tongue and charges into the city with Giles close beside her. I quickly pass Davien and can’t stop myself from flashing him the smallest of smirks. He catches it. His eyes widen slightly and his mouth purses. He snaps the reins, causing his horse to startle and whinny.
I turn ahead with a laugh. He’ll figure it out. He’s a prince, after all.
The rogue thought catches me off guard. He’s a prince, my mind repeats.
I’ve always known that he is. But the closer we become, the harder it is to imagine.
I glance back over my shoulder. His hair is tousled by the wind, catching the sunlight with an almost liquid shine.
To think that a few hours ago I ran my fingers through that hair… that I kissed those lips.
I look ahead again, tearing my eyes from him before my stomach can do so many flips that it becomes uneasy. I let Dreamsong blur around me, not focusing on the houses or their incredible construction for the first time as I traverse the streets. “Last night was nothing,” I repeat to myself.
No feelings. That’s what we promised. Last night was nothing more than a release of the tension that has been building between us for weeks.
There’s no need to overthink it. No need to complicate it.
No need to feel guilty now. It can be just that—a fun escape, an indulgence.
It was so much nothing that it’s not even worth talking about.
If I feel anything, it’s only that I won’t be able to indulge in that escape for much longer, should I choose. Soon, if Vena is right, the magic will be out of me. After that happens, I’ll need to leave Midscape as quickly as possible, before the Withering begins.
Davien and I were never meant to be. He’s the Fae King and I won’t let myself fall in love.
The fact that I found even a brief enjoyment with him is enough.
It’s enough, I repeat to myself more insistently than before.
Yet for some reason, I can’t seem to make the thought settle in my mind.
It keeps chasing me, and I ride faster and faster, as if I’m trying to outrun it.
We break away from the city and look down at the valley that Dreamsong is nestled within.
We’re back into the forests now, magic fluttering in the air around us.
I can go even faster here; I’m not constrained by the streets or the people on them.
I weave between trees as I grow more comfortable with my horse.
“Are you trying to lead the way?” Giles calls with a laugh.
“Certainly not,” I shout back.
“You seem like you’re trying to race us.”
“If I knew where we were going, I would be inclined to race.” I slow my pace to hold a conversation, trotting over to where Shaye and Giles are still riding together. Davien has mostly caught up since we left the city.
“You’re fairly comfortable on a horse for a noble lady,” Shaye observes.
“I don’t know if I would call myself noble,” I say with a small smile.
“My father was the first lord in our family tree. He only attained that rank because of his luck trading.” My smile falls and I stare across the golden and red expanse of the forest. “And when that luck ran out…so did everything that came with lordship, except for the title.”
Shaye stares at me for a long minute. There’s a deep understanding in her eyes—a thoughtfulness that most people lack.
I don’t feel seen by her in the same way I do with Davien.
It isn’t as though she’s peering into my deepest thoughts and darkest corners.
No…there’s almost a subtle acknowledgment with Shaye.
As though she sees and recognizes pain, just as I can see and recognize it in her, even though our pain is different and unique.
“Did you take riding lessons before the luck ran out?”