CHAPTER FOUR
My breath steamed in the air when I woke up the next morning, repressing a groan at the thought of leaving the toasty sanctuary of the fur blankets I was wrapped in.
“Good morning,” Garrick greeted me from where he crouched at the hearth, feeding logs to the tendrils of flame he’d started. His eyes, twinkling with mirth, flicked to mine. “I was starting to worry I’d have to lift you out of bed and carry you for the next leg of our journey.”
Squinting against the morning light that struck my face as soon as I sat up, I blinked and glanced out the window, noting the sun was already high in the eastern sky. It was much later than I usually slept, but then again, I didn’t usually wake in the middle of the night to dullahan attacks and a need to stitch a man’s naked skin back together.
“I only have dried meat and tea for breakfast, but I think I might have a bit more stored at our next stop, if we can make good time today.” Garrick stood and went to rummage through his cabinets, returning with strips of jerky.
I accepted two and bit into one gratefully.
“I have more clothes you can borrow. We’ll be increasing altitude and trudging through snow soon, and you can’t do that in a ballgown—or only my shirt, as lovely as your legs are.”
My cheeks flamed, scandalized that he’d noticed.
Garrick nodded to the chest at the foot of the bed, where he’d laid out a pair of trousers, shirt, belt, and stockings, as well as a heavy fur coat, gloves, and leather boots. My cheeks threatened to redden when I thought of borrowing a man’s clothes. It seemed intimate. And yet, I shook off the sensation. It was practical, a way to avoid suffering from frostbite. All my societal niceties didn’t apply here, where my goal was to survive the wilderness and the creatures that would be hunting me.
Silently, Garrick went about preparing tea, bringing me a steaming mug before offering me an uncharacteristically sheepish smile. Already clothed in layers of leather and fur, he appeared ready to leave at any moment. “I’ll give you some privacy while I...dispose of the body,” he said quietly. “I’ll knock before I return so you can warn me if you’re not dressed yet.”
His thoughtfulness warmed me. I hadn’t expected such manners from a fae, much less one who could shift into a wolf. As he exited the cabin, leaving me to finish my tea and jerky and then reluctantly climb out of bed, I thanked whichever god had been looking after my interests when they’d sent Garrick to help me. Flirtations aside, he was friendly, and though his charm made me feel awkward, it also banished any uncomfortable need for me to fill silences between us.
I scurried to the washroom, where Garrick had left a pitcher of water I could scrub my face with. It was cold, probably gathered from the stream outside, but it was fresh. Then I scrambled into the clothes he’d given me, blushing furiously when I was immersed in the same smells that clung to him—the scents of evergreen and cedar, fresh air and leather. Everything was overlarge on my frame, but I did the best I could before stuffing my feet into the boots and wrapping the coat about myself.
By the time Garrick knocked, I was cozily stationed before the fire.
“Come in,” I called.
Garrick stepped through the doorway, pausing when he saw me. A strange look flickered over his face, gone too soon for me to read it. “We shouldn’t delay any longer,” he said, and I nodded, watching regretfully as he put out the fire with a bucket of water. When he offered me a hand, I didn’t hesitate to accept his help. “Another servant or soldier could already be nearby.”
Before we left the cabin, Garrick strapped a sword and a series of hunting knives in leather sheathes to his belt, shoved another knife into his boot, and hefted a bow and quiver full of arrows to his back. “Best to be prepared,” he said, flashing me a smirk and leading me outside.
I inhaled the fresh mountain air, studying the thin, sparkling layer of snow that had fallen sometime in the early morning hours. The sun shone brightly, but fluffy clouds were gathering, promising more snow. A chipmunk scurried up a nearby tree, scolding me for being so near its home. Nearby, the stream burbled along merrily, clear and glistening in the daylight. Everything seemed normal and cheerful, the terrors of last night dashed away as if they’d never occurred. It was a little disconcerting.
“You need to be prepared too,” Garrick said, drawing me from my appreciation of nature. He handed me another knife I hadn’t seen him clutching in his palm.
I blinked at it, studying the marking of a wolf silhouetted against the moon etched into its hilt, and thinking of how hopeless I’d felt with a blade last night, not having a clue how to wield one. Or even if I’d have the courage to defend myself. “Ladies aren’t exactly taught how to fight,” I said at last.
Garrick’s piercing eyes never left mine. “I’ll teach you. For now, take it, and if an enemy gets too close, do your best to shove the blade into anything tender. Eyes, face, torso, hand...whatever it takes to stop or slow them.”
I took it, shoving it into my coat pocket and praying I wouldn’t have need of it.
Studying the clouds overhead, I kept my head down as I trudged through the growing piles of snow, my breathing turning shallower the higher the trail climbed. We’d only been traveling a few hours, but I was already exhausted and sore. My toes ached and blistered in my borrowed boots, each step arduous when my stockinged feet slipped around inside them. I’d tripped and nearly fallen so often I’d lost count. Garrick had stayed by my side, faithfully offering a hand each time to keep me from injuring myself.
“I wish I could offer you better-fitting gear,” he’d said with a frown, but we were in the wild, with no towns nearby. We had to make do with what Garrick had.
Now, I paused to catch my breath and wipe the sweat beading on my brow with my mittened hand.
“We’re not far,” Garrick said, but that encouragement only made me want to groan. He’d said that a few times already, and I was starting to think his definition of far and mine were very different things.
“I can scarcely breathe.”
The hunter reached into his pack and withdrew a canteen, passing it to me. I sucked down the water greedily. “You’re unused to this elevation.” When I finished and handed him the canteen, he took a gulp. I tried not to watch as his lips pressed against the same place mine had just been, tried to ignore how intimate sharing a canteen was. I knew it meant nothing and was silly to be scandalized when my life was in danger, and yet, I couldn’t ignore the uncomfortable squirm in my belly each time one of the careful boundaries polite society had erected was challenged.
“Is it...too soon to stop?”
A teasing glint entered Garrick’s eyes as he replaced the canteen in his pack. “I could carry you.”
My face burned. “I’ll walk,” I gritted out, trudging onward before he could embarrass me with further flirtations.
“Forgive me,” Garrick said, holding out his arm. I hesitated before taking it. “I’m making you uncomfortable. Your human formalities are unusual to me.”
I didn’t respond.
“To distract you as we walk, I could tell you about the time I outwitted a cantankerous troll.”
“A troll?” I scanned the trees surrounding us, imagining a bulky troll lumbering out and threatening us. So far, the only creatures we’d encountered had been harmless—squirrels, rabbits, birds—but I couldn’t banish my fear of every story I’d heard about fearsome creatures living in the fae world.
“They’re too thick-headed to be much of a danger,” Garrick said, brushing aside my concerns as if trolls were simple pests. “This particular one was no exception. I’d tracked a deer to a pond with a nearby cave. A foul-tempered troll stalked out, swinging a club and threatening to crush in my skull for waking him.” While my eyes widened, Garrick merely laughed. “Trolls aren’t known for their cheery dispositions, Starlight. Most seek the solitude of the mountains and threaten death when anyone is unfortunate enough to stumble upon one of their lairs.”
I missed another step, sliding through snow, but Garrick’s hold on me tightened, propping me up. “Thank you,” I murmured.
“Rather than take on the lumbering giant, I proposed something else: a challenge. If he won, he would have the pleasure of killing me. Well...he specified eating me.”
I couldn’t help but cringe, making Garrick’s smile broaden at my reaction.
“If he lost, he’d be forced to tolerate my presence near his cave until I was finished tracking my own quarry.”
This wasn’t the first story Garrick had told to keep me entertained. His liveliness and zest for adventure seemed to know no bounds. I also knew he preferred it when I humored him by asking questions, because each time, his eyes lit up. It had been so long since someone truly enjoyed my company, so long since anything I did brought joy to anyone, that I couldn’t help myself. “What was the challenge?” I asked, glancing sideways so I could see his dimples flash and his gold eyes sparkle.
“Tracking.”
“What?”
“I don’t know how many stories you’ve heard about trolls, but they’re excellent trackers. Many consider them to be the best, with their keen sense of smell and animal instincts. Naturally, when I told the troll whoever was the first to track down and kill the buck I’d been hunting would be the winner, he laughed and agreed.”
“Why do I sense you tricked him?” I asked, amusement lacing my tone.
“Well, he didn’t know I was a wolf shifter,” Garrick said. “He set off in the direction of the buck, and I shifted—easily outrunning him and finding the deer first. Not even a troll can best a wolf’s hunting instincts. I darted in front of the troll before he could creep up behind the buck and raise his club. Slaying a deer in wolf form is a little messier than I prefer, but...” He shrugged. “When I shifted back into my fae form, the troll was furious, claiming I’d cheated. But I reminded him that I hadn’t specified how we would track the deer. Precise language matters among the fae.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “What if you hadn’t won? Wolf form or no, there was still chance involved. Wouldn’t you have been committed to your word to...let him eat you?” I frowned at the thought.
“Me? Lose?” Garrick scoffed. We both laughed, the sound echoing off the surrounding pines.
A sound greeted us from ahead, like distant humming. I froze, forcing Garrick to a stop to avoid dragging me by the arm. My heart hammered against my ribs, screaming at me to run.
Garrick’s fingers tightened on my arm. “Don’t be afraid. It’s the mountain witch, Shavonne. She’s only trouble if you don’t grant her request when you pass.”
“What sort of request?” I hissed as the hunter calmly led me forward up the incline and around a bend in the trail.
“It’s never too steep a price, or I would have taken us another way. But this is the most direct route.”
Ahead, a rickety wooden bridge spanned a small chasm that dropped into a clear mountain stream. Just at its start, a stooped figure draped in a heavy cloak awaited us, humming and twisting something in her gnarled fingers.
“I thought trolls guarded bridges—that’s what my childhood stories said.”
“The stories mixed it up, then. Trolls prefer caves and hunting. Witches like bargains and trickery like most other fae. They’re generally long-lived hags and other beings who dabble in potion-making as well as our usual elemental magic, but they’re unable to use glamour.”
Garrick led the way confidently, flashing a charming smile as the witch turned her head, revealing the wrinkled face tucked beneath her hood. When she returned his grin, it was all gums, without a single tooth in sight. “Garrick Darkgrove, renowned hunter,” she crooned, setting aside the stone she’d been fumbling with. “I was attempting to see the future, but apparently my gifts don’t lie that way.” She chuckled to herself. “Otherwise, I would have known you were bringing this curious mortal with you.” Her watery eyes latched onto me, scanning my silver hair and my human ears.
“Yes, it’s not often I have such a lovely traveling companion. But I’m afraid we’re in a hurry, Shavonne. We need to pass.”
“Then you know you must humor an old woman.”
Garrick dipped his head. “Of course. What price must I pay?”
The witch’s toothless grin widened. “Oh, not you this time, my pretty dear. Her.” She pointed her crooked finger toward me. “I make my request of you...?” She paused, clearly awaiting a name.
“Ren,” I supplied, though my voice wavered.
“This will be entertaining.” Shavonne clapped her hands together. “We cannot lie, but you humans can. So grant me this, young Ren: two lies and one truth about yourself.”
“Why would you want lies?”
“So you’re more likely to tell me a deep truth.”
“But how will you know which is the truth?”
She cackled. “Oh, I’ll puzzle it out. That’s the fun.” Shavonne waved her hands at me. “Bare your heart, and you can pass.”
I swallowed. “Very well.” My mind felt hazy as I sifted it for truths and lies that would be personal enough to satisfy this woman. “I hate my brother for betraying me.” In my head, where my anger and hurt churned like a restless storm, I’d been sure this was true, but the words tasted wrong as soon as I spoke them. A lie.
Shavonne nodded along, her watery eyes gleaming. I wondered if she could sense the untruth in my words, or if she was waiting to hear everything.
Hesitating, I tried again. “I’ve never felt like I belonged anywhere, not even when my stepfather was still alive and my brother didn’t shun me.” Tears burned my eyes, and I blinked to avoid crying. This was true.
“Very interesting,” Shavonne muttered.
“What do you do with lies and truths?” I asked. “You don’t even know me.”
“And it seems you don’t always even know yourself.” She gave me another toothless smile. “Share something else.”
I frowned. “Are you using magic?”
The witch shrugged. “I think there’s magic in sharing the contents of your heart. But perhaps I help it along, help you see what you’re truly feeling.” She winked.
Disconcerted, I closed my eyes. One more lie. My heart focused on last night, when black ice had shattered my glass and frosted my skin. When Garrick’s glamour had had no effect on me. “I don’t believe I have magic. I’ve always known I was a perfectly ordinary human.”
Shavonne cackled. “Well earned.” She gestured with a hand. “You may both pass. Thank you, Mortal Ren, for amusing an ancient woman.”
I stared at her, wondering if there was more to it all. Surely the bargain wasn’t that simple. I expected a fae trick—some hidden sacrifice I needed to make, some way she’d twist my words and use them against me. But she merely grinned as Garrick took my arm and led me across the creaking bridge.
Chill wind blew strands of hair across my face as we crossed to the other side and up another incline, deeper into the forest marching up the mountainside. “You believe me about your magic?” Garrick asked after a longer silence than usual. I’d been mulling over the revelations the witch had forced me to face about myself and hadn’t even noticed he’d gone several minutes without speaking, as lost in thought as I was.
“I think, deep down, along with feeling different—and not just for my hair—I knew I wasn’t quite like anyone else. I didn’t realize that meant magic, or fae blood, or anything like that. For a while it simply meant I didn’t fit in. I wondered if maybe there was something inherently wrong with me, that made me invisible or unworthy to everyone else.” I bit my lip, embarrassed for sharing so much. Maybe the witch had used some magic that was making me speak more truths than I’d normally be comfortable admitting to a man I’d just met. Or maybe, though it had only been a short while, Garrick’s charm and openness and protective nature were making me feel safe enough to tear down some of the walls around my lonely heart.
“Invisible?” Garrick’s lips quirked. “The whole town was talking about you.”
“I meant...unseen in the ways that truly matter. They looked at my strange hair and imagined what they wanted about me. They didn’t see me. They didn’t care to know who I really was.”
Garrick squeezed my arm. “And what a shame for them. I’ve only known you for one day, and already I can tell you’re kind and thoughtful and a lot braver and more interesting than anyone in your sad little town would ever give you credit for. And you have magic, which makes you more powerful than the lot of them. More powerful even than me.”
He laughed, and I couldn’t help but smile, just a little. Even if my mind was overwhelmed, trying to comprehend how I carried more power in my veins than the immortal I walked beside.