Chapter 12

12

K yrie

The countryside doesn’t change all at once, which I expected. It’s gradual, which I should have anticipated. We go from deep desert sand, where the sky is blue and the sun radiant, to patches of dead vegetation dotted here and there. Slowly, the ground beneath our feet begins to firm up, turning from pale beige to dark brown. The once clear sky gradually turns hazy until the sky is no longer blue, until eventually, clouds gather in thick clusters above us, weighed down by the promise of rain. Behind the clouds is the ever-present haze.

The temperatures have gone down to something more agreeable.

Then, the patches of dead vegetation give way to muddy patches and pools of brackish water with clumps of trees or bushes barely clinging to life. The air grows heavy with the smell of rotting plants and damp earth. After a time, an abundance of moss, lichen, and thick patches of fungus cling to every available surface in various shades of green, brown, and orange. It is as if nature has taken over this part of the world and claimed it for its own. I know different. The life has been leached away.

“It’s worse than I remembered.” Cyrano sounds defeated.

“It is worse,” I tell him. “I think there is more death, rot, and decay than before.” I almost can’t believe what I am seeing. “Unless we are in a particularly bad section.”

“It’s a disgrace what has become of the realm,” Damon says. He sounds choked up. He was in the salt mine the longest, he will have missed some of the worst of the decline.

“There are…were pockets of land that fared better than this. Hopefully, they still exist,” I offer, hoping to ease the blow for all of us.

“The land needs its lifeblood back. Snow somehow stole it, and it needs to be given back before it’s too late. Once death fully takes hold, there will be no going back.” Damon’s eyes are filled with sorrow. As much as I want to keep holding onto my hatred for him, I can’t. Damon hasn’t once come across as a heartless fae. As someone who doesn’t care about anyone but himself.

In fact, the opposite is true. The more time I spend at his side, the more I am beginning to trust him again. Perhaps he is telling the truth about having a spell cast over him, about being in the dark just as much as we were. He has given me no reason to doubt him. In many ways, he is like the man I once knew, and in others…he is changed, but not necessarily in a bad way.

“You speak as if you plan on righting that wrong yourself,” I say.

“We should all be planning on righting that particular wrong. On taking our kingdoms back. On overthrowing Snow.”

I shush him, putting a finger over my lip. “You shouldn’t speak like that. It’s treason and could get you quartered and hung.”

“Us too, by association.” Cyrano looks around us as if someone might have overheard.

“Someone needs to say it. Someone needs to be brave enough to take action.” Damon speaks in his deep voice.

“And I suppose that someone is you?” Cyrano sneers. “A self-confessed nobody.”

“Get enough nobodies together and change the world.”

Gooseflesh rises on my arms at the rightness of his statement.

Cyrano snort-laughs. “That is the daftest thing I ever heard.” When he realizes that he is the only one laughing, he stops, looking at me. “If this fae is going to keep spouting such nonsense directed against the queen, he’s going to get himself killed and us along with him. We’re clear of the desert; we should split the rations three ways and leave,” he says to me before looking at Damon. “Kyrie and I will make our own way from here.”

“That would be a big mistake,” Damon says; his intense stare is directed at me.

“She’s leaving with me,” Cyrano insists.

“I have my own voice,” I say in a clipped tone. “I can speak for myself and make my own decisions.”

Cyrano’s face turns red. I’m not sure if it’s anger or embarrassment. I don’t much care. I’ve had my life dictated to me for the last two years. I’ve been told when to eat, how much I can eat, when to sleep, when to wake. All of it. I refuse to allow it for a second longer.

I know it’s wrong, but my heart sinks at the thought of leaving Damon. Dread fills me. Sweat beads on my brow at the thought of traveling further with Cyrano…just the two of us. I hate the idea. My gut tells me that it would be a mistake. Logic does, too.

I doubt Cyrano and I would last two seconds if attacked, whether by predators or by fae. We’d be doomed. At least we’d stand a chance with Damon. Until we find other humans, a settlement, maybe, we are easy targets.

Something eases in me. We have to stick together for a little while longer, at least.

“I don’t think we should be too hasty,” I tell Cyrano. “Traveling together has worked well up until now. We made it through the desert, didn’t we?”

“Exactly. We made it through. We’re out. We don’t need him. This fae is a liar and a…a…traitor. He…he…he’s a fae,” Cyrano finally settles on.

It isn’t enough for me. Not anymore. There is something bothering me.

“Can I speak privately with you, Damon?” I ask.

His icy blue stare bores into me. Damon nods once, and we move away from Cyrano, who looks at me with a baleful glare before staring at his feet.

Once we are far enough away, I turn and face Damon. “Do you swear that you never knew about being a fae? That you were completely in the dark all of this time?”

“I was just as much in the dark as you. I never lied to you; I swear it.”

“And you have no idea why this spell was cast on you.” For all of Cyrano’s shortcomings, he raised a good question – why Damon? Why go to all of that trouble? There must be a reason behind it. It’s a reason Damon must know himself, surely?

He hesitates, his jaw going tight for a moment. “I’m powerful, Kyrie. Or, at least, I was once powerful. That’s why the spell was cast over me. I’m sure there are others just like me. Perhaps many more who are still in the dark.” He shrugs. “There is no sinister reason. No real—”

Powerful.

That’s a good reason.

“Powerful, how? In what way? You said that you were a nobody, and I’m finding that hard to believe.” He doesn’t say anything, which is infuriating. “Who are you really?”

“I am a nobody.”

I don’t believe him. For the first time since I first met him, Damon is lying. I can see it. I can feel it. I wish I knew why.

My choice is to go on alone or to take my chances with Damon, even though he is keeping something from me.

“You can trust me, you know?” There is a slight hitch to my voice, which is too small…too soft. It’s my final attempt to get him to open up to me. I know we’re not friends anymore, but there was a time, not so long ago, when we could tell each other everything. It shouldn’t, but it still hurts that he won’t confide in me when it counts the most.

Damon nods once. “I know I can trust you, but you’re going to have to find it in you to trust me for a little longer.”

Even though he is lying, I do trust him. I’m sure that makes me an idiot, but it’s how I feel, anyway. I’ve always been able to rely on him. He might look different, but that basic fact hasn’t changed. We have each other’s backs. He cares for me and my well-being. I am safer with Damon than on my own.

I sigh. “It’s not like I have too much choice,” I finally settle on.

Damon grabs my hand before I can walk away. It’s warm and calloused, dwarfing my hand. “Kyrie…wait.” He runs his thumb over the top of my hand, and I feel a flutter inside my chest.

“There are things I—” he starts to say, but Cyrano yells something incoherent.

We turn to him, and he’s pointing. We follow his gaze.

I gasp. “It’s…no… We need to run. We need to go now.” I start to move, but Damon holds fast to my hand.

“We won’t outrun them.” Damon shakes his head, his hand tightening over mine for a second before letting go. “They’ll run us down quickly. We have no choice but to stay and face them.”

“Maybe they will be friendly. I mean, you’re here too. You’re a fae…surely…?”

“Perhaps.” I can see in his eyes that he isn’t expecting it.

With a shout, Cyrano mounts one of the camels; he turns and kicks the beast into a sprint. I turn my gaze back to the approaching fae amassed on horseback at the top of the hill. Their armor glints despite the lack of sun.

They keep up their steady advance, two fae breaking away from the group to chase Cyrano. They move with startling speed. Their steeds are massive and well-muscled, their hooves eating up the ground below.

I’m clinging to Damon. He has a hand on my back. I didn’t even feel myself move toward him. I look up at him. “What will they do with us?”

As predicted, the two fae catch Cyrano quickly and with ease. Each of the fae flanks his camel, bringing him back.

“I don’t know. They’re not icefae, so I don’t hold much hope that they will be friendly because of me.”

My eyes prick with tears as I pull away from Damon. I can’t believe we’ve already been captured. Will we be sent back to the salt mine? Or will it be some other hellhole?

“What kind of fae are they?” Their helmets have large black plumes. I can’t quite make out the crest on their armor just yet.

“They’re shadowfae.”

My heart sinks as my blood turns cold in my veins.

Shadowfae.

Able to use their magic to manipulate shadows, they’re the most dangerous of them all.