Chapter 48 Isabeau
forty-eight
Isabeau
The mare’s steady rhythm beneath me had become my entire world for hours.
Hoofbeats beginning to mark time like a heartbeat, carrying me farther from gilded captivity and closer to uncertain freedom.
My thighs burned from the constant friction against the saddle, my lower back a knot of tension that promised worse pain tomorrow.
But discomfort was a small price for escape. Night approached with the same inevitability as the hunt I knew would follow once they discovered my absence. If they hadn’t already.
I leaned forward, patting the mare’s sweat-slicked neck. “Just a bit longer, girl,” I murmured, though I wasn’t sure how much farther either of us could go. We’d been riding since mid-afternoon, stopping only briefly to let her drink at a stream while I stretched my cramped legs.
The road had given way to less-traveled paths hours ago.
Now we moved through rolling countryside that grew wilder with each mile, the cultivated fields behind us replaced by scrubby undergrowth and increasingly dense copses of trees.
Ahead, the looming shadow of the Forbidden Forest stretched across the horizon, its twisted silhouette black against the bruised-purple sky.
My raven friend appeared again, a darker shadow against the dimming light, swooping low before me with a soft caw of greeting.
It had found me not long after I’d passed beyond the city gates, as if it had been waiting, watching for my escape.
Since then, it had been my guide, flying ahead to scout the way before circling back to ensure I followed.
“Show me where to go,” I said, my voice rough from hours of disuse. “I can’t see much farther in this light.”
The bird banked sharply to the right, wings outstretched like fingers pointing toward a narrow path I might have missed otherwise. I guided the mare that way, trusting the raven more than my own senses as twilight thickened around us.
Though, I began to wonder about the bird. How it was so intelligent and bonded to me. One day, I’d have time for questions, but right now, we needed a place to rest.
We crested a small rise, and I saw it. A stone bridge spanning a narrow river that cut through the valley below.
The water glinted like hammered silver in the last of the day’s light, its gentle burbling reaching my ears even at this distance.
The bridge itself was old, moss-covered in places, but solid-looking enough.
More importantly, it offered shelter beneath its arch.
The raven circled the bridge three times, letting out three distinct caws before landing on the stone parapet. I recognized the signal immediately. This was where I should stop for the night.
“Thank you, friend,” I said, relieved to have found shelter before complete darkness fell.
I guided the mare down to the riverbank, dismounting on legs that threatened to buckle beneath me.
My body had grown soft during my weeks of convalescence in the castle, and the long ride had taken more out of me than I’d expected.
I led the mare to the water’s edge, letting her drink while I assessed our temporary haven.
The bridge’s underside formed a crude half-cave, the stone arch providing cover from both prying eyes and whatever weather might come in the night.
The ground beneath was relatively dry, with enough space for me and the mare to shelter together.
It wasn’t the royal apartments I’d fled, but it wasn’t Gaspard’s dungeon either.
I shivered at the thought of his name, at the memory of what the king had planned for me. A hunt. Like I was an animal to be chased down for sport. I closed my eyes, pushing away the image of Gaspard’s face, that perfect smile hiding the monster beneath.
“We can’t go further tonight,” I told the mare, who had finished drinking and now stood patiently beside me. “The forest isn’t safe after dark, not even with my friend to guide us.”
After the wolves had found me, their teeth tearing into my flesh as I spoke to Papa, I’d learned that darkness belonged to the predators. Even with my emerging powers, I wouldn’t risk those shadows. Not when the beasts couldn’t protect me like then, and they needed me alive.
I unsaddled the mare, rubbing her down with handfuls of the long grass that grew along the riverbank. The poor creature deserved better care than I could provide, but she seemed content enough with my ministrations, nuzzling my shoulder when I finished.
“You’re not so different from me,” I whispered to her. “Taken from your home, used for others’ purposes. At least you’ll have a warm stable to return to when this is done.”
If she lived through whatever was coming. If any of us did.
I spread the cloak Brigida had given me on the ground beneath the bridge, creating a makeshift bed that was hardly more than a layer of wool between my body and the hard-packed earth.
From the bundle she’d packed, I took a small piece of bread and cheese, forcing myself to eat slowly despite my hunger.
I didn’t know when I’d find food again once I entered the forest.
The raven hopped down from the bridge, settling on a rock near my improvised camp. Its dark eyes watched me with an intelligence that felt ancient, knowing.
“How is the castle?” I asked it softly. “The animals? Are the beasts suffering without me? Do you feel them too?”
The claiming mark on my shoulder throbbed in response, a phantom pain that had become my constant companion. The bite marks. They were a tether, pulling me back to below the castle’s earth where three cursed men waited in bodies not their own, trapped in a hell dimension I barely understood.
I touched the stone in my pocket, the amber artifact the raven had brought me in my tower prison.
Its warmth spread through my fingers, a comforting contrast to the chill air settling around us.
Whatever magic it contained had helped me escape.
Well, I believed it did from the timing of the raven’s return. Perhaps it would help me save them too.
The raven didn’t answer, knowing I’d have to discover much with its help. I pet the head of it, wishing I could know more about the little friend who had bonded to my beasts and myself.
“One day, I hope to know you too,” I whispered, a yawn finding my tired body.
Night fell completely, the darkness beneath the bridge becoming absolute save for a sliver of starlight reflected on the river’s surface.
I curled onto my side, using the satchel as a pillow, a dagger Brigida supplied clutched loosely in one hand.
The mare settled nearby, her large body blocking part of the opening, providing both warmth and an early warning system should anyone approach.
The raven remained on its perch, a sentinel whose eyes saw better in darkness than any human’s could. I felt safer with it watching over me, though safe was a relative term now. Somewhere behind us, in a white castle I’d briefly called sanctuary, men were planning my capture. My execution.
Sleep tugged at my consciousness, my exhausted body demanding rest despite my racing mind. Tomorrow would bring me back to the Forbidden Forest, back to the castle where my beasts awaited. I needed strength for what lay ahead.
“Just until dawn,” I murmured to myself, letting my eyes close at last. “Then we find our way home.”
Home. The word tasted strange on my tongue. Not my father’s cottage in Thorndale. Not Gaspard’s mansion where I’d been prisoner. Not Alain’s castle with its gilded comforts.
Home was where three cursed princes once lived. Where I belonged, whether by choice or fate or magic’s decree. And I would return to them, no matter what stood in my way.
The amber stone pulsed once against my hip, as if in agreement, as I surrendered to exhaustion.
Sleep claimed me like a starving predator, dragging me down into depths I hadn’t expected.
This wasn’t ordinary exhaustion-fueled unconsciousness but something deeper, more purposeful.
The amber stone heated against my hip, its warmth spreading through my body in pulsing waves that seemed to pull my spirit from my flesh.
I floated, untethered from my physical form beneath the bridge, drawn toward something, someone, calling to me from behind the veil between worlds.
Though, it wasn’t English, but I understood the call to me personally.
The darkness behind my eyelids gave way to a strange half-light, neither day nor night but something in between.
I stood in what appeared to be the great hall of the forest castle, yet not quite.
The edges were blurred, the colors muted as if viewed through water.
Before me stretched a transparent wall, shimmering like heat rising from summer stones, separating me from the other side of the hall.
And there they were. My beasts. My princes.
Marcel appeared first, his massive form emerging from shadows on the other side of the barrier.
My breath caught at the sight of him. The largest of the three, his bear-like body covered in thick honey fur, amber eyes so like my own gleaming with recognition as he spotted me.
Those eyes—human eyes in a beast’s face—had haunted my dreams since the day I’d left.
“Marcel,” I whispered, moving toward the barrier with my hand outstretched.
He approached from his side, each ponderous step deliberate, careful, as if afraid sudden movements might shatter our connection.
When he reached the wall, he raised his enormous paw, pressing it against the barrier where my hand rested on my side.
The size difference was almost comical. My small human hand was dwarfed by his massive clawed appendage.
Yet I felt the connection between us pulse with each heartbeat, the claiming mark on my shoulder warming in response.