Chapter 27
Spar
Iwring out my wet hair as much as possible and braid it to the side.
Glo has taken to starting a fire, now that Jasmeen’s wounds have been tended and redressed.
The small flame erupts in her hand, but flickers weakly before sputtering out.
Brynn mentioned glamours were draining—that magic could be depleted.
Glo’s literal explosion earlier undoubtedly sapped her powers.
Her eye twitches in concentration, her lips pursing.
She glances at Jasmeen, who with perfect timing, shivers.
The sight of her refills Glo’s cup. The new flame in her hand grows stronger at once.
I smirk at the warmth this brings to my chest.
It’s not long before Brynn returns empty-handed, seeming visibly relieved that we’re all clothed. After stoking the fire, Glo leans back on the nearest trunk and closes her eyes in exhaustion-mingled relief. She’s spent. Emptied.
I pass bits of bread and jerky to everyone. We sit around the fire nibbling in an awkward silence. I meet Brynn’s gaze, and it’s clear he’s exercising the last of his patience. A muscle in his clenched jaw spasms. I offer a smile, but it feels counterfeit.
“I—” I start and stop again, mulling over what to say. Breaking the tension seems like the safest bet. “I wish I had an ale right now.”
Glo chuckles. Jasmeen’s gaze flickers to Brynn. She chews the inside of her cheek, twisting her hands together. His expression remains taut.
“I want to say thanks,” says Jasmeen. Her owlish eyes dance between Glo and Brynn, the firelight making them extra glossy. “Vir, I’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”
Brynn’s eyebrows rise, his horns shining with the movement. “You don’t owe me anything,” he says. It reminds me of when he saved me from the minotaur in the bazaar. The half-fae in him assumes us mortals fear being indebted to them.
“I at least owe you an explanation,” Jasmeen replies.
“I owe you all an explanation.” Her voice cracks and Glo leans into her leg to comfort her.
“I’ve lived in Sanctuary for quite some time now.
It’s not easy being a mortal here—half the fae don’t trust you and the other half assume you’re someone’s pet. ”
Jasmeen pauses, clearing her throat. Glo holds her breath.
“Well… long story short… I kind of became someone’s pet. For a long time. To survive. To get to where I am.”
I think of the numerous scars on Jasmeen’s body and am too nauseated to ask what all being a fae’s mortal pet entails.
“I can’t speak their na—” She cuts off, choking on the word.
“I—I can’t say much about them. I’m bound by the terms of our bargain,” she murmurs, rubbing her throat as though she feels an invisible collar there.
I swallow hard, touching the unseen shackle at my wrist in realization.
Hers is around her neck. “But they’re powerful.
It started out as sourcing ingredients for them—making questionable elixirs. ”
Her eyes meet mine. “I didn’t lie about that, Thea. I never made any Yield. But… they promised I would get my own shop—make a name for myself here even as a mortal, find the stability I craved. I was young and naive. I didn’t understand how dangerous bargaining with the fae could be.”
My gaze flits to Brynn. He shifts, sensing it. He puts his elbows on his knees and leans closer to the fire.
“I’ve been researching how to safely break fae deals,” she says with a slight shake of her head.
Her eyes are unfocused on a point beyond me.
“I’ve tried some… experimental things. Blackwood Inn was where we first met.
I knew we would inevitably stop there on this journey.
I was paranoid we may run into them. It’s impossible to tell with glamours, I guess—but I figured I’d somehow know if they were nearby.
I fucked up. Part of our deal was that I’d never leave Mayhem.
I—I thought I’d found a loophole—by Glo inviting me to tag along.
I was mistaken… I never imagined they’d send Draiders after me. ”
Jasmeen’s sullen expression is haunting. It feels as though I’m watching her heart break. I can’t help but wonder if she once loved the powerful fae who bound her.
“I just wanted to disappear until I could figure out how to break the bond without repercussions. It was too much knowing they could find me at any time in Mayhem. And well, traveling with a prince would be my safest bet. A prince who could grant me eventual access back to the mortal world if we were to become friends,” she confesses.
“I’ve been stupidly researching how to conjure…
a fool’s quest, I know. But it’s getting harder and harder to find conjurers for coin.
I didn’t know that Glo was one until—well, until she told me in my stall. ”
Glo straightens, away from Jasmeen, a flash of hurt in her brown eyes.
I know what it feels like to be used, but not to that magnitude.
Jasmeen had two perfect contingency plans: Brynn as an escort, or Glo if he failed.
Glo’s expression hardens, like she’s questioning every moment with Jas and debating whether their connection is authentic, or if it was a ruse for Jasmeen’s self-preservation and gain. Jasmeen picks up on this, too.
“I didn’t expect you both to be so genuine,” she says, her gaze landing on Glo. “I mean—I didn’t expect—I knew I could trust Thea, but—you must understand. Relationships between fae and mortals are not always good—especially with my—my history. I didn’t know if I could trust either of you.”
I resist the urge to squirm as my chest constricts. I am more unworthy of her trust than Glo or Brynn.
“And now?” Brynn asks, staring into the fire between us. “Do you feel you can trust us now?”
“Without a doubt,” Jasmeen says, an admirable conviction in her voice. She lays her hand on Glo’s leg and squeezes. “I may even call us friends, if you allow it.”
“Well,” Glo says, her eyes transfixed on Jasmeen’s bold hand upon her thigh, her mouth pulling up at the corner. “Let’s get to it.”
My brows rise. Jasmeen’s throat bobs.
“Conjuring,” Glo clarifies. “No time like the present. You’ll have to work up to passageways, but I told you before—I’ve known mortals to pull it off. If anyone can learn, it’s you.”
Brynn and I watch from beside the campfire as Glo leads Jasmeen to the pool’s edge to practice the basics of conjuring.
Our veilmanes’ heads lift at the sound of movement, but they quickly return to grazing near the treeline.
Jasmeen’s shoulders are less stiff, the huge weight of her secrets lifted.
I scoot closer to Brynn. He does not retreat.
“Thank you,” I say in a low voice, nudging his shoulder with mine. He stares at me in confusion.
“Whatever for?” he asks, shaking his head. An errant strand of hair touches his cheek and I fight the delusional urge to push it back behind his ear.
“You listened,” I say. “And you didn’t push. You let her tell her story without pressure. Without judgement.”
Brynn is quiet for a stretch. He absently rubs at his wrist, measuring the weight of our bond there.
I shift my focus to our companions, who wear similar scrunched expressions of concentration now.
Jasmeen mentioned that conjuring took the channeling of specific emotions.
I wonder if fire requires tapping into a reserve of fury and rage.
“I hope her history doesn’t make you think less of me,” Brynn at last speaks. I turn to take in his face, his worried and sullen expression. “I know fae can be tricky—I have the pleasure of a foot in both realities, so to speak. I feel as though I don’t belong to either.”
“Ah,” I tease, “do you think that’s why you failed so miserably at tricking me? Because you’re half-mortal?”
“Yes,” he says with a dark chuckle, “I’m not a scheming fae, I guess. No matter how hard my father trained me to blend in. Maybe I’m less fae than I’d like to admit. Or perhaps you’re the most clever mortal I’ve ever met.”
“No, I’m just the most stubborn,” I grumble bitterly, frowning at my dirty boots. “If I was clever, I would’ve stayed in my realm. I would’ve gone about my life. I would have denied Mavick’s offer—would have never poisoned my father with Yield. I’ve made some very stupid mistakes to end up here.”
“Well,” he starts, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees again. “For what it’s worth, I am glad you ended up here.”
I meet his gaze and realize how close we sit. A pitiful noise like a cross between a scoff and a sigh escapes me. I do not know how to respond. We sit in a static silence, watching our friends, when a thought occurs to me.
“Do you think there will be worse consequences? For Jasmeen defying the terms of the bargain and leaving Mayhem?”
“It’s hard to say,” Brynn answers in a low voice. “It’s possible that Glo’s invitation allowed for a loophole, depending on the verbiage. I think if Jas had truly broken their terms…”
“Those Draiders would not have missed,” I finish for him.
His grave expression confirms I’m right.
It wasn’t piss-poor aim. It was a threat.
A show of power. I think of the sheer number of scars on Jasmeen’s body.
All reminders that she may find ways to defy them, act on loopholes and run, but they control her. Own her.
“I would never hold our deal over your head. I do hope you trust me, Thea,” Brynn says softly. “The last thing I want is for you to fear me.”
“I think I know that. And I think I probably trust you, Prince.”
His eyes narrow. “You know, you’re right. You are the most stubborn mortal—scratch that—creature I’ve ever had the pleasure of—”
“DID YOU SEE THAT?!” Jasmeen’s sudden exclamation draws our attention. It reverberates off the jutting rock face of the pool and the thick blackwoods surrounding us. She jumps around, her wide eyes bright even in the dusk that’s begun settling. Shadow looks affronted, its tail swishing irritably.