Chapter 8
My hands won’t stop shaking as I cling to Lev’s shirt.
Nothing can undo what I’ve done. I’ve condemned Verdanthia to a terrible fate. And I can’t even warn them about it.
Lev clutches me tighter and growls in my ear, “It’ll be okay.”
I jerk my head, hot tears staining his shirt.
“Do you hear me, Elara?” The fierceness in his voice promises something he can’t control. “I swear by all the Gods, we will figure a way to get you out of this.”
I’m not proud of how desperately I cling to him or his reassurance, even knowing there’s nothing in our world that can defeat a Fae.
Except the curse ravaging that poor male’s body…
Now that I’m away from the Fae, my stomach twists. What exists that can do that to one of the most powerful beings in the world?
The Fae were created in the Old Gods’ image—formidable, near indestructible. Humans didn’t have a chance when they invaded our lands. But, apparently, they have a weakness…and I’ve been charged with undoing it.
“Lev.” One of the men speaks up. Hard eyes glare out above his thin scarf. “We need to go.”
I follow his gaze to the forest and rear back with a frightened squeak.
Glowing, slanted, animalistic eyes stare out through the thicket of trees. Something rustles in the brush. Insects sing their eerie songs.
The woods have come to life once more. Jaxon must’ve returned to his camp, allowing the other predators to come out to play.
“Right.” Lev picks up his sword and sheaths it. Then he wraps an arm around my shoulders and tucks me into his side. “Let’s go.”
The masked men fall into formation behind Lev as he escorts me away from the forest.
My heart races as I think about my daunting task and the repercussions if I fail, but with each step I take, with each inhale of Lev’s familiar soap and leather scent, some fear rolls off my shoulders, left to smolder on the ground behind me.
Just like the Fae’s shadows.
I glance at my forearm pressed against Lev’s stomach. The shadows remain. They’re still, but I’m not naive enough to believe they will remain that way.
The crooked shacks that scarcely pass as liveable structures are silent as we pass. No curious whispers travel on the breeze. No lights peek through the ill-fitted shutters covering the windows.
The Fae dragged me into the Forbidden Forest north of town, yet Jaxon brought me out on the town’s southern edge. Did he use magic to trick me? To confuse me so I wouldn’t be able to find my way back to their camp?
He must have.
I snort. What a wasted effort. There’s no way in the six hells I’d ever willingly go back into that forest.
The crunch of our footsteps on dirt and rocks echoes through the night while the bitter taste of fear lingers on my tongue.
“Where is everyone?” I whisper.
“The Elders declared a curfew,” Lev mutters. “No one protested.”
No. I imagine not.
We weave through the streets of homes and businesses separating the southern shacks from the town square, heading toward the small cottage I share with Ferria when she decides not to spend her nights at the forge.
A broad figure steps out of the shadows.
A whoosh cuts through the air as the men around me swing their swords up in unison. Lev’s free hand drops to the dagger at his waist.
“Stand down, men.” General Ironheart moves into the lantern’s light.
My shoulders lower, as do the blades around me, but my relief is short-lived.
“Elara.” The general’s tone is frigid, non-negotiable. “Come with me.”
Lev stiffens. “Father, I—”
“Disband, you fools,” the general barks. “Before I have you thrown into a cell for disobeying curfew.”
The men scatter like ants, none so much as daring to hesitate at their leader’s orders. The Elders may make the laws, but we all know General Ironheart, with his control of the army, runs this town.
Lev drops his hand from his dagger and rolls his shoulders back, facing his father with a clenched jaw.
I bite my lip and look between the two men, wishing for a way to avoid whatever is about to happen.
The general waits until the sound of the retreating footsteps no longer reach our ears before barking, “Come.”
He spins on his heel and strides into the darkness.
Lev and I share a look. The corners of his eyes tighten. I wonder if, like me, he is thinking of the last time his father turned his ire onto his son on my account—the day he skipped training to help me carry a wounded carpenter back to his home.
The image of the patterned bruises on sixteen-year-old Lev’s back flashes through my mind, and with it, my hatred for the man who put them there.
I lace my fingers through Lev’s, ignoring the shifting shadows around my wrist, and follow his father.
The meeting hall is a mess. Benches are overturned, several broken. The chaos from earlier… the cries, the screams… I hear it all in my head.
My heart hammers as I acknowledge that my neighbors’ terror tonight is but a fraction of what will come to pass if I don’t find some way to fulfill my deal.
General Ironheart strides down the middle aisle, kicking away obstacles with strength impressive for a man in his sixties as he leads us to the stage. Once again, the town’s five Elders sit on their chairs. Though they look far less imposing after what they endured earlier this evening.
Dark circles shadow each man’s eyes. Blood crusts the side of Elder Quarry’s face.
Elder Whitestone’s robes are wrinkled. None have cleaned up after their confrontation with the powerful Fae.
I bet they’ve been busy discussing how to handle this unprecedented threat to Verdanthia in the time I’ve been gone.
My feet falter when two men step out from the sides of the stage, sharpened swords glinting in the refreshed oil lanterns lining the edges of the hall.
Captain Stormsword and Captain Steelvice, General Ironheart’s number one and two, move to stand alongside the line of seated Elders.
The men responsible for the bloodiest injuries I’ve ever tended turn their eyes on me, icy and merciless, before sinking their gazes to the dark bands etched into my skin.
A shudder wracks my body. Lev’s grip tightens.
“Miss Stonebloom,” Elder Whitestone’s aged voice breaks the tense quiet. “We are pleased to see you’ve returned to us…relatively unharmed.”
His gaze also drops to my arms, though I don’t sense violence from him like from the two captains.
I swallow. “Thank you, Elder Whitestone.”
“Well, girl.” Elder Quarry swiftly ends the social niceties.
The man who cowered before the Fae is gone. In his place is the arrogant man who once shaved his daughter’s head when she refused to marry the forty-year-old son of one of his closest friends. His daughter was only fifteen.
“Tell us what happened. Where did the Fae take you?”
A gash mars Quarry’s temple. It looks deep, but no blood seeps from the wound. He must’ve applied a clotting tincture to stop the bleeding.
Nine pairs of eyes drill into me from all around the room.
I take a deep breath, bracing myself, before I say, “I can’t tell you.”
Anger billows, fast and hot.
“You insolent child,” Quarry spits, vibrating with fury. “How dare you deny us an—”
“No, you don’t understand,” I interrupt, my voice dripping with meaning. “I can’t tell you.”
Every one of the Elders bristles with varying degrees of indignation, frustration, and confusion. The captains and the general are still as stone, which is honestly more frightening.
Lev catches on before the rest.
“You can’t say?” he repeats.
I give a stiff nod.
He exhales, his lips twisting into a sneer. “The Fae did something that prevents you from speaking about them?”
I nod again, relieved when doing so doesn’t trigger the debilitating pain around my neck.
“Bastards,” Elder Bakersmith snaps.
“Unnatural creatures,” Quarry hisses. “All magic is an abomination.”
My still-recovering power flickers.
It’s okay, I coax gently. They aren’t speaking about you.
My magic titters, not believing my lie.
The Elders continue to spew curses and lament the Fae’s existence. All except for Elder Whitestone.
The more open-minded leader watches me with probing, wise eyes. “Is there anything you can tell us, child? Anything at all so we might know what to expect?”
Run. The Fae will destroy you when I fail.
I suck in a breath when the line around my neck burns.
Lev jerks. “What in the Gods…”
He stares at the base of my throat. A glance confirms everyone else in the room looks there as well.
So, they can see it.
Good.
One less thing I have to try and explain.
I release the words I wish I could say, and the burn fades. The room falls silent.
Then—
“Monsters,” General Ironheart growls.
The fact that he’s angry on my behalf would be touching if I didn’t fear everything about the man.
Beside me, Lev vibrates with his own fury.
I squeeze his hand. “It’s okay.”
His nostrils flare. “Nothing about this is okay.”
“Elara?” Elder Whitestone calls. Compassion flickers in his gaze, yet resolve sharpens its edges. “Think carefully. Is there any information you are able to share?”
I press my lips together. I run through several phrases and dismiss the ones that trigger the burning.
“The Fae gave me a task.” Sweat beads on my forehead, but my skin remains cool. “It’s…it’s part of the deal I made. Once it’s done…they will leave.”
I want to add what will happen when I inevitably fail, but the burn flares in warning.
“Then you must complete the task.” Bakersmith punctuates the words with a sharp slap to his chair’s arm.
Quarry adds, “As soon as possible.”
“Before they wreak havoc on innocents,” Elder Gorge huffs.
I wince as the added pressure falls on my shoulders.
“Elara?” Whitestone’s forehead furrows. “Is completing the task possible?”
Anticipation weighs heavily as all of the men in the room focus their loaded stares on me. Beside me, Lev’s body ripples with tension. I take a deep breath and think.
Is it?
I have no knowledge of Fae curses, no experience dealing with magic other than my own. And after what happened when I touched the injured Fae, I doubt I’ll be able to use my power to help him, even if I could.