Chapter 28 A Way Out
A Way Out
“What is that horrible noise?” Dy asked, gliding into view. “Are hyenas mating down here?”
Cha had kind of forgotten their fancy get-ups and, for a delirious moment that lasted longer than it should have, she thought Dy was a fairy princess or descending angel.
Haloed in gold and wearing that insanely splendid gown, not a hair out of place, Dy looked like a vision.
Sputtering out of breath, Cha decided to lie down.
It might have been more of a full crumple than a graceful lowering to the floor, but she did manage to position herself so the cart only rolled a forearm’s length or so before hitting her. And she did function pretty well as a speedbump. Yay for her.
Dy’s lovely face hove into view above her, golden ringlets dangling and springing with enviable perkiness. “What are you doing?” she inquired, almost politely.
“Nap,” Cha croaked, and closed her eyes.
“Inadvisable,” came Dy’s regretful voice. “Did you roll all the way to the bottom?”
“Dead end,” Cha answered. “Fucked,” she added helpfully.
“What about that exit to the cargo bay about fifty paces back?”
Cha cracked an eye open. “Really?” she asked hopefully. She didn’t even care that she’d missed it; she was just glad it existed. And not too far away.
“Really,” Dy answered firmly. “You wave the wand and I’ll sing.”
Cha tried to offer Dy the wand, but she shook her head. “I can sing to it, but it’s your wand. You have to wield it.”
Cha feebly waved the wand so that pink glitter showered from its apparently limitless supply—including into her eyes, ow—and Dy took up the working song, lyrics and all.
Unlike Cha, Dy possessed a lovely singing voice and the cart seemed very happy with the change.
It started rolling uphill at a good pace.
Dy held down a hand and pulled Cha to her feet again, Cha’s bones and joints creaking like she was a hundred years old instead of thirty. She straggled along behind Dy, placing one foot in front of the other with deliberation. Had she ever been this tired in her entire life?
Katu came to walk beside her and she gratefully trailed her fingers through his plush fur, appreciating his moral support.
Soon, Dy turned and went through a wall-sized doorway into the quiet cargo bay.
Several enchanted big rigs sat quietly in the dimness and farther down, pens held animals bedded down for the night.
Either Gnome-Clerk hadn’t guessed their direction or was too preoccupied with his missing hands to deal. Probably the latter.
The cargo bay was open to the night-drenched garden which still managed to have a twilight yellow glow.
Cha inhaled a deep breath, ferociously glad to be out of the palace.
The cart trailed Dy like a puppy—apparently she’d decided to continue with magical propulsion instead of them having to push—and Cha and Katu followed.
Cha was happy enough to keep waving the Moonruby wand like a crazed conductor determined to coat the world in pink glitter.
In this way, they made a little, absurd parade over to Big Betty, who trumpeted quietly in greeting.
Warg plastered himself against the windshield in slobbery delight and Katu bounded ahead to greet them both.
It was quiet and peaceful and all of that made Cha’s neck prickle with wariness.
You never knew when a giant preying mantis or scythe-bearing guard might jump out at you.
Out of an abundance of caution, she transferred the wand to her left hand and drew the Cinnabar sword, too.
But they reached Big Betty without incident.
Cha mentally vowed to never take boring for granted again.
Big Betty already idled on the slow yellow, so they were able to clamber aboard and lower the ramp.
Dy sang the cart up into the cavernous cargo space, and they joined it, pulling the ramp up behind them, just in case.
Katu prowled about, sniffing everything for any minute changes, and seemed to be restless to get back on the leys and burning speed.
Cha knew the feeling.
Before she did anything else and while Dy undid the locking enchantment on the crate, Cha ripped off the chain mail, pressing her palms to her agitated nipples in sheer relief. It didn’t help much, but it helped some and that was huge at the moment. Dy raised a brow at her. “That bad?”
“They don’t make those outfits for hiking,” Cha replied. “My nipples may never be the same.”
“Try breastfeeding,” Dy suggested. “That’ll make your nipples bleed.”
“I know you haven’t done that as Phinny does all the childbearing and nursing.”
“Yes, but I’ve had to hear about it. In detail. With every baby. The tales I could tell you…”
“Please don’t,” Cha begged. Her nipples throbbed in sympathy as it was.
Dy opened the lid of the crate and Cha held her breath—nice to be able to—and anxiously peered within.
Azul still slept, apparently none the worse for wear.
Hopefully not dead.
“He’s fine,” Dy said, putting a hand on Cha’s bare arm. “Only sleeping. Let’s put him in the hidey hole.”
“Right.” They rearranged the crates and opened the secret compartment Cha had so recently ridden in. “Never thought we’d be smuggling a fae prince,” she noted.
“I’ve stopped keeping track of all the things we’ve done that I never thought I’d do,” Dy replied drily. “You look like a wraith. A naked and surly one. Are you able to help lift Prince Charming into the nook?”
“With the dregs of my strength,” Cha answered. “Let’s get him in there and us out of here.”
She almost couldn’t do it, even with Dy taking the heavier end of his dead weight—that word again—but fuck her if she’d drop Azul at this point. He may have tumbled a bit more into the hidey hole than was ideal, but hopefully any bruises he’d gotten would heal while he slept and he’d never know.
“Riding or driving?” Dy asked. “Before you answer, I suggest riding. You’re dead on your feet.”
“Have you ever noticed how many common phrases have the word ‘dead’ in them?”
“Riding,” Dy decided. “You’re in no shape to ride the ley lines.”
“What about you—don’t you need to sleep?”
“I napped quite a bit while you were otherwise occupied.”
“But can you get down the mountain?”
“Slick as goose shit through a tin horn.”
“Yuck.”
“I agree. Goose shit is really slick though.” As she spoke, Dy found some of Cha’s extra clothes—thankfully some soft, schleppy pants and a shirt for sleeping in—and tossed them at her.
“Thanks. But why put goose shit in a tin horn?”
“You are so punchy. Get in the bin and sleep. Katu can stay out with me. I don’t think there’s room for all three of you.”
Cha surveyed the logistics with a jaundiced eye. With Azul out like the dead—that fucking metaphor again—the space looked uncannily like a coffin, a thought that had never before occurred to her. “There’s not much room,” she said dubiously.
Dy snorted. “As if you’ll mind being snuggled up with your obsession.”
Obsession. She wasn’t obsessed with Azul. Was she? Besides, she didn’t mind the snuggling. And sleeping was sounding better all the time. It was the waking up and his inevitable fury that concerned her. “He won’t wake until we’re out of Citrine?”
“He should sleep all the way through Moonstone. I’ll wake you if there’s pursuit.”
That sharpened her focus. “Do you expect pursuit? What did happen back there?”
Dy gave her a perfectly blank look. “I handled it. And we always expect pursuit. Rule number two, which you’d remember if you weren’t exhausted. Now get in or I’ll knock you out again and throw you in.”
“You’re so tough since you became a mom,” Cha grumbled, climbing gingerly into the compartment, trying not to step on Azul’s wings.
“Motherhood teaches you not to tolerate shit from tired and cranky people,” Dy agreed, and shut the lid.
Though Cha’s body screamed with weary relief at being able to at last lie down, her mind kept going, chugging away as if she were still trapped in that circular labyrinth beneath the Citrine Palace.
At first she thought she couldn’t settle out of concern for Azul’s discomfort.
She rummaged around for quite a while in the dark, checking the fold of his wings and the lie of his limbs, making sure she wasn’t hurting him.
Then she had to do it all over again because she was uncomfortable.
It didn’t help that it was pitch dark in the compartment.
They’d debated adding light at various points in time, but that would have required magic of some sort and that kind of thing was detectable in an inspection.
Finally she settled on a position kind of lying on her side, head pillowed on his shoulder, which was rather bony in his unconscious state, not at all like when they’d cuddled on other occasions.
Not at all like she’d fantasized being together with him again would be like.
Then there was the dizzying spiral of Betty catching the ley line down the mountain.
Her rumbling stomach rebelled, churning with empty threat.
She supposed that was the upside of not having had anything to eat or drink in however many days it had been—at least she couldn’t hurl all over Azul in the cramped, nearly airless compartment. What a joy that would’ve been.
As it was, though, she couldn’t wait until they were out of Citrine and through Moonstone and could eat and drink again.
Finally, once Betty stopped circling and straightened out, gaining speed, Cha dropped into exhausted slumber.
Her sleep stayed as uneasy as her heart and mind, however, plagued by dreams of trudging in endless uphill circles while tiny fairies swirled around her singing the cart song.
And while Azul flew overhead, circling like a vulture, remote and untouchable, never touching ground.
A fish can love a bird, but where will they live?