22. Magic Sight
As she handed the water skin back to Maelys, Lyra glanced around at their surroundings. If she had thought the human forest had been lovely, it was nothing compared to the Valewood. Magic poured from every facet of this place.
The air was crisp and light against her face, soothing the burn on her cheeks. It smelled of wild roses, citrus, and robust cedar. Green leaves glimmered like emeralds in the moonlight. It was a forest of jewels. Ruby flowers, amber trunks, and sapphire fronds.
Majestic, eternal, otherworldly.
The air filled her lungs easier and warmth stirred in her veins.
This was magic. She hungered for it as she gulped down the air greedily.
Closing her eyes and tilting her head up to the moonlight, she reveled in its electric embrace.
This was a place unlike any other. She felt the stirrings of guilt—she had never felt this way about Atlantis.
That thought frightened her. She snapped her eyes open in time to see Wilder slipping through the darkness. Moonlight poured through the trees, casting him in its glow. No—he was magic.
“We need to keep moving,” he ordered. His voice was gruff and the warmth in her veins rose to a blistering degree. Arousal and anger mingled and melded. She didn’t like to be ordered around—had never liked it. But something about the words coming from his mouth, that voice …
Well, you’d have to be dead not to find the allure in him.
“They’re a few hours behind us,” Otto answered Wilder from behind her. She flinched, having not heard him creep up.
“Good. Will they stay that way?” Wilder asked, looking right over the top of her head at Otto.
“If we keep on this pace? Yes.”
Wilder nodded and stopped a mere foot in front of her. His face hardened again, and she knew he would be answering none of her questions. Without a word, he scooped her up and threw her onto the back of their horse. She had to bite her tongue to keep from crying out in surprise.
“Was that necessary?” She glared down at him. And if she was not mistaken, a hint of mischief gleamed in his eyes.
“Of course, Legs. Can’t have you slowing us down or becoming injured.”
She cast her eyes around the rest of them, all seeming to have somewhere—anywhere— else to look.
“Touch me again and I’ll cut your hand off.”
As if he couldn’t help himself, he slid a hand up from her ankle to her calf. If she thought she had felt warm before, nothing could compare to the heat of his skin on her body.
But he goaded her on purpose, testing the boundaries she set. On instinct, she slapped his hand away. It stung, but she didn’t stop there. Kicking out with her foot, she aimed for his face and met a hardened wall of steel. He caught her foot before it could make contact with his face.
“Do not do that again,” he intoned. Fire blazed in his eyes, clashing with the fire in hers.
“I warned you,” she hissed.
Wilder let go of her foot and then nodded.
“I apologize.”
The world paused. And then tilted.
Apologized? No male had ever apologized for touching her against her will. Her chest rose and fell with her pants as she stared at him.
“My actions were thoughtless. And they will not happen again.”
Again, she was speechless. This male—this elvish male—was apologizing to her.
How strange. And utterly terrifying.
Lyra gave him a stiff nod and turned forward. Wilder gracefully mounted the horse behind her and gripped the reins in both hands.
Then they were off. Flying through the forest and farther away from everything she had ever known.
Night turned to day, and then night once more.
Otto had convinced Wilder that whoever had been chasing them was far enough behind that a few hours of rest was a necessity for Lyra and their horses. Lyra had piled together some leaves and moss for a pillow and was lying on her side, her back to Wilder and the rest of them.
She had been too tired to help Ridge tend to the horses and was now trying her best to sleep, but every breeze through the trees or rustle of wings in the night had her heart fluttering in her chest.
The damp earth seeped through her clothes and into her bones. It was a fool’s dream, but she had hoped when they reached the Wilds, she could bathe. Warm water was a luxury she had once taken for granted. But never again.
The wind blew stronger, blowing her hair into her face, and she tucked her arms closer to her chest for warmth. With her eyes squeezed shut, she tried to block out the unease of it all.
One more day, Wilder had said, then they would be in his kingdom.
The coldness ceased, and the wind no longer cut through her.
It took her a moment to realize why. Peeling her eyes open, she saw Wilder’s cloak draped over her.
Lyra breathed in the fabric. It smelled of him, but it was more intense here, where magic flourished.
She was right to think he smelled of fresh air, but it was stronger than that.
He smelled like the fresh air coming down from the tops of the hawthorn trees.
His scent settled her. And her breathing slowed.
It slowed enough that they must have thought she was sleeping because Otto had started speaking.
“Your father plans to make a deal with her.”
Her ears strained as she tried her best to listen.
“What kind of deal?”
“There’s an unbalance of magic he wants to set right. And he needs her help.”
“Unbalance?” Wilder’s voice rang deeper than usual. He must be angry—or disturbed. From how he talked about the balance, it must have been very important to them.
“The night you kidnapped her was a ritual for their kind. And it’s disrupting magic.”
Lyra held very still, trying not to lurch at the information that was uncovered. So he hadn’t known about Tidal Tithe, just that she would be on land. But their information was wrong.
The Tidal Tithe was to replenish their magic, not disrupt it. Otto’s visions were incorrect. But she was not about to correct her enemy’s mistake.
No—let them think the wrong thing.
“What kind of ritual?” Maelys asked.
“To gain power, they consume the hearts of twelve humans. The mermaids complete the ritual, and it fuels their fertility. Or it had—their births have rapidly decreased due to the imbalance.”
That wasn’t entirely incorrect, and that unsettled Lyra. But it was supposed to be thirteen maidens who made the sacrifice. It was a way to pay homage to their past of luring mortals to their deaths.
It was an honor—not an imbalance.
Ridge grumbled, “So why don’t they just stop?”
“Because the wealthy are still producing spawns. They see no need. And they have a bargain with the humans.”
“What kind of bargain?” Wilder asked. Lyra could tell by his voice he was surprised.
“I am unsure. Something is blocking my sight from Badenvaria. Like some kind of ward.”
Wilder sighed. “That’s the least of our problems now. We received this order directly from my father, and now we’re being hunted.”
“Have you seen who informed the King?” Ridge asked. “If we know who else is behind this, it will help narrow down the traitor.”
“No. It’s also blocked. Whoever informed him must know I’m searching and they’re hiding.”
That was interesting. So there was a way to keep Otto from seeing. She would need to figure that out if she ever intended to escape.
“Do you think it came from her court?” Maelys asked.
“Could be,” Wilder answered. “Whoever wanted her gone might have doubled up the mission to ensure that she would never return.”
Those words didn’t hurt Lyra as much as they should have. It was no secret that there wasn’t camaraderie among the merfolk. But who could have been after her? It must have been an attempt to injure her father or Drystan. They were the only ones who had a stake in her survival.
Her father needed her to kill off the heir to Ithicais, and then all his plans of complete domination would be complete. And Drystan needed her to secure his future claim to the throne.
Maybe it was someone in Drystan’s circle who had made this alliance with Oberon to get her out of the way to usurp him.
That seemed the most likely. No one liked her, but everyone despised him.
“Will she agree to the deal with my father?” Wilder asked.
Lyra quieted her mind and her breathing to hear Otto’s answer. It was intriguing learning what her future self had in store for her current self.
“She will. And you will not like it.”