Chapter Four Jasalyn

Chapter Four

Jasalyn

I WAKE TO THE SOUND of a crackling fire and the soft scuff of footsteps. The smell of something sweet and spicy hangs in the air and reminds me of my childhood, like Sunday mornings before Mom left. I can almost imagine her standing at the stove stirring porridge for our breakfast and telling Abriella a story.

I'm scared to open my eyes. I'm warm and the bed beneath me is so soft. But no amount of denial is going to return me to a house we lost, and no amount of wishing is going to bring my mom back.

When I open my eyes, I find myself in a cozy cabin. A trio of males sit with their backs to me, facing the glow of the fire, each with a mug in his hand. They're speaking in low murmurs I can't make out. In the corner opposite this bed, there's a window over a washing basin. But no light streams in.

How long was I sleeping?

One of the males turns and— no. Men.

I was captured by humans ?

I push myself up and am surprised to find my arms work again. Perhaps if I move quietly enough, I can slip out before they notice me. My ring.

My stomach sinks past the floorboards. My cloak is gone.

If I had my ring, I could sweet-talk them into anything I wanted and walk out the door. They'd never remember they had me here.

I ease up as slowly as possible. If they are human, they won't have the same keen hearing as the fae. If I'm very careful—

The mattress groans beneath me, and a man whips his head around. When his eyes meet mine, I can't breathe.

Those eyes.

So icy blue they're nearly transparent, like I could see all the way to his soul.

I know those eyes, know those thick, dark lashes. Between the eyes and his long light brown hair, someone might mistake him for pretty —if it weren't for the absolute masculine angles of his jaw and the scruff lining it. If it weren't for the sheer strength and power so obvious in the way he stands.

There were nights in Mordeus's dungeons that the fear alone was enough to drive me over the edge. There were nights when the darkness threatened to swallow me, and I wished for death. Until Kendrick was thrown into the cell across from mine and he realized how much I needed a friend. Until Kendrick talked me through the darkest nights.

Close your eyes, Slayer. The sun will rise again tomorrow.

"Kendrick?" I say before I think better of it. Why is he here? Why am I here? Did he rescue me from my captors? But why would he be in Faerie? Wasn't he freed after Mordeus was killed? Why didn't he go home?

Kendrick eases to his feet, hands up, palms toward me as if I'm some wild animal he's trying not to spook.

"What are you doing here?" I ask. But I should ask something altogether different. What am I doing here? Who were those people in the woods?

"Careful. She's not restrained," one of the other men says. His voice is vaguely familiar. He sounds like the male who captured me, but that doesn't make sense. My captors had to be fae—they used magic on me—and this guy is with Kendrick, who would never let anyone hurt me. If Kendrick is here, it's because he saved me.

"She won't hurt me," Kendrick says, eyes never leaving mine. "Jas, we need to talk."

I look back and forth between him and his friends. Both face me now. One is thin with big wire-rimmed glasses, a messy ponytail, and a gold hoop in one ear. The other is stocky with long dark hair, a trim beard, and hard eyes. He's acting like he's Kendrick's friend but looking at me like I'm a snake that might strike.

"What's going on?" I ask. "How did I get here?"

"By horse," the bearded one snarks.

I do recognize his voice. "It was you . You're the one who captured me." I swing my gaze back to Kendrick. "Why?"

"You could've been seen by any number of rebels in that camp if we hadn't grabbed you," Kendrick says. "We needed to talk to you anyway, but your whereabouts required us to"—he exchanges a look with his friends before turning back to me—" expedite the situation. So you didn't end up hurt."

I shove off the bed, and the second my feet touch the floor, I realize they took my damned boots as well as my cloak. I stomp toward him. "I didn't ask for your help." I poke his chest with each word.

He glances down at my finger.

"Don't try to use your magic on him," the bearded guy says. "We will restrain you again if we have to."

I whip my gaze to him. " What magic?" I blurt, then cringe at my inadvertent admission. Even though the whole realm knows I'm human, my sister's advisors told me to never reveal my lack of power. There's strength in their assumptions, strength in keeping them guessing.

We don't want the world to know anything more about you that they might perceive as a weakness. And besides, your powers will come to light anytime now.

By the time my sister was seventeen, she could wield shadows. Even as a human. But the only magic I have comes from my ring—and that was forged by a witch in the human realm and is currently either lost in the swamps or wherever Kendrick's men have my cloak hidden away.

" What magic? " the bearded guy scoffs. "You think humans are stupid, Princess?"

Kendrick shoots him a look. "You're not helping."

"Ignore Remme," the other guy says. His voice is soft, soothing. A low murmur more suited to libraries and classrooms than the battlefields and barrooms his companion was built for. "He missed his nap today."

I fold my arms, staring them down, one by one. I should let them think I have magic. Let them fear me.

Kendrick cocks his head. "You never told me you had faerie blood." There's no anger in his voice, just... disappointment?

"You never told me you were a kidnapper," I snap back.

He smiles. "So, we're even?"

I'm almost knocked over by the sight of those dimples peeking out through the scruff on his cheeks, and I have to swallow hard. There were so few times in Mordeus's dungeons that warranted a smile, but Kendrick found ways and reasons to smile at me just to help me through.

"Give me my cloak and my boots." I glance around the cottage again but see no sign of either. "I need to go home."

He shakes his head. "I'm afraid we can't do that."

I release a sound that's way too close to a squeak. "You can't just... just take someone."

"And yet we did," Remme says.

I could run, but they've already demonstrated that they're faster and stronger than me, and how far would I get without shoes? And how long could I handle the darkness of the night without the magic of my ring to protect me?

"You're lucky we grabbed you when we did," Kendrick says. "Those insurgents would've taken you and used you to manipulate your sister, the queen . Is that what you want?"

"And how will you use me?"

Kendrick scrapes a hand over his jaw. "We need your help."

It's like they aren't even listening to me. "I respectfully decline."

"Not until we talk," Kendrick says. He looks at his friends. "Leave us, please."

Remme folds his arms. "Hale, you can't—"

Kendrick snaps his fingers, and the door to my left flies open.

I gape. He has magic.

Kendrick points to the open door. "Get out."

The quiet one winces. "I don't love that idea, Hale."

"Out," Kendrick repeats. He shifts his gaze between his friends. "Both of you. I need to talk to the princess." He says the word like it has a bitter taste and he needs it off his tongue as fast as possible.

The quiet one frowns. "I'm advising you not to be alone with her. You don't know what she's capable of."

"Do you see the door?" Kendrick asks, nodding to the door he's still pointing to.

The men listen, taking a second to glance over their shoulders a final time before pulling the door shut behind them, and then I'm left alone.

With Kendrick.

"They call you Hale."

He nods sharply, still watching the door as if he expects them to barge back in. "That's my name."

"I thought it was Kendrick."

Slowly, he slides those eyes back to me, and a warm shiver shimmies down my spine. "Kendrick is my family name."

I never asked. They called him Kendrick in the dungeons, and I assumed that was his given name. I guess it serves to prove I never knew him that well after all.

I look at the door—the one he opened with a snap of his fingers. "You have magic."

There's a challenge in the way he raises his brows. "Trained since birth."

"I don't know what you want from me, but I'm sure I can't help you." I don't say, I thought you were my friend, but his expression softens like he sees the accusation in my eyes.

"Just hear me out," he says.

I hold his gaze for a long time. I know those eyes. I was saved by those eyes—their tenderness, their compassion. When a guard broke my fingers one by one only to heal them and do it all over again, Kendrick lured him into his cell and broke his neck. When my fear and misery threatened to drown me, Kendrick reminded me I wasn't alone.

"And if I hear you out and I still want to leave," I ask, "will you let me go back to the palace tonight?"

Closing his eyes for a beat, he draws in a slow breath. "I hope once you hear me out, you'll understand why I can't do that."

My chest feels too tight. "You've changed."

Kendrick's eyes darken, and he looks me over from my lips all the way down to my stocking feet. When his eyes make their way back up, they linger on all the curves in between. "So have you."

My cheeks flame with heat. It was never like that between us—never about romance or sex. I was too young and too preoccupied with trying to survive, and Kendrick was, well, he wasn't the kind of guy who'd see a malnourished fourteen-year-old in that light.

Luckily, he turns away from me and I'm spared from him seeing my embarrassment. He goes to a small table by the fireplace and fills a pewter mug before offering it to me.

My mouth is so dry I want to yank the mug from his hand and gulp it down, but I only stare at him, even though its contents smell so good. It's the delicious cinnamon and spice scent that I woke up to. "Poisoning me so soon?"

"Come on, Jas. You're smarter than that. If we wanted you dead, would you have woken up?"

A sudden burst of feminine laughter from outside draws our attention to the door. I wonder if it's the same person I heard when I was taken. Is she involved with Kendrick somehow?

"We both know death is hardly the worst thing our enemies can do to us," I say, pulling my gaze back to his.

"You could trust me then, and you can trust me now," he says softly.

"How do I even know it's you?" I ask. "You could be someone imitating him. This could be a trick."

"Because you know me," he says. He extends a hand toward my face, and I retreat on instinct.

The backs of my thighs hit the bed, and I scramble into the corner, pulling my knees into my chest.

He sighs and resignation pulls down the corners of his mouth as he lowers himself to the edge of the bed.

He's so close.

How many nights in that dungeon did I struggle to sleep and wish he could be this close? How many nights since have I thought of him and wished for just one chance to say thank you? I never thought this was how I'd get it.

He extends the steaming mug toward me again. "Please. Your mouth is dry from the magic Remme used to restrain you. Drink this and I'll tell you everything you need to know."

I take the mug because the spices smell so delicious, and he's right. My mouth is so dry I can barely swallow. I sniff the contents, trying to detect any of the odiferous poisons I learned about. I smell nothing concerning, but there are any number of odorless poisons—

Kendrick takes the mug back and drinks from it, watching me as he swallows. "It's safe." He hands it back.

I will not think about my lips touching where his lips just touched. I will not wonder what those lips would feel like on mine.

Too late.

I take a tentative sip, as desperate to change my line of thinking as to get rid of this desert in my mouth. It's mulled cider and tastes even better than it smells. I force myself to wait before taking another drink, just in case, but feel no ill effects, only soothing warmth.

"Why aren't you home?" I ask. Because I'm ridiculous. He kidnapped me. I shouldn't care whether he was reunited with the family he missed so much.

He turns sideways on the edge of the bed, his gaze scraping over my face and analyzing every feature. "I went home for a while. But what I need to protect my family and the people in my charge can only be found here. So I'm back to get what Mordeus stole."

"The Sword of Fire?" I ask. When we were in the dungeons together, he admitted that he'd been captured while searching for it.

"Yes. I need it if I'm going to make any sort of lasting change in Elora."

Three years ago, he believed himself a failure for having been unable to retrieve it.

"I'm sorry you haven't found it yet."

"Me too. I've been searching this realm for a year, and I have nothing to show for it."

My stomach constricts like one of Mordeus's guards kicked it. He's been here for a year, and he never came looking for me. Never came to so much as say hello. It shouldn't matter.

"That's why I need your help," Kendrick says, oblivious to the ridiculous ache in my spurned heart.

"They say Mordeus is back," I say.

He nods. "I've heard the rumors."

"It's not safe for you here. You're mortal, and his magic is great—"

"There are mortals who have magic too, Princess." He shifts on the bed and leans his weight on one palm in the center of the mattress. "You never met a single mage in your fourteen years in Elora?"

"Of course I did, but—"

He arches a brow, as if to say, There you go.

"You're not that foolish. You've been captured by Mordeus before. Why would you think you wouldn't be vulnerable now?"

"I never said I'm not vulnerable. I said I need what Mordeus stole if I am to protect my family and deal with the mess happening back home."

"And I'm supposed to help you with that somehow?"

"Exactly." He toys with a loose thread on the sheet. "Our enemies are growing stronger by the day—and they're using their power to increase the gap between the wealthy and the poor. Between the magically trained and the magically ignorant."

"What does that have to do with me?" I shake my head. "I don't belong there anymore."

"Because when you turn eighteen, you become fae?"

I frown. "Why do you know so much about my life?"

His lips twitch into a smile. "You think I missed that you're not just the princess of the shadow court but a descendant of Mab? Do you think I've been hiding under a rock the last three years?" He nods toward the door. "Why do you think my friends are so convinced you have magical abilities and may harm me at any moment just for the thrill of it?"

I open my mouth to lie, to pretend I'm powerful and hint that they should fear me, but then I meet his gaze and know I can't. I can't lie to Kendrick. Not after everything we went through. "Well, they're wrong." I shrug, then because I can't help myself, the corner of my mouth twitches into a smile. "About the magical abilities at least."

This earns me a full grin, complete with both dimples. That grin could get me into trouble. "You've changed more than physically, Slayer. Gotten a little fierce in the last few years." He nods. "I like it."

"As you've pointed out, when you're princess, there's always someone hunting you. I've had to learn to protect myself." Even though I failed today. I push that thought away and return to the topic at hand. "As admirable as I think it is, I don't know what you think I can do about the inequities in Elora. It's been a problem for longer than I've been alive and will continue to be long after I've died."

His gaze dips to my mouth. "Since you're soon to be immortal, let's hope that's not the case."

I dodge his piercing gaze and study what remains of my cider. "Do you have a plan? To help the less fortunate in Elora?" So many in my home realm get roped into impossible contracts that result in a lifetime of servitude. After our mother left, Brie and I were among them. We were only freed from ours because our aunt sold me to Mordeus, and that would never have happened if my sister's fate hadn't been tangled up with the future of the Unseelie Court. It's hard to imagine the human realm being kinder to unfortunate souls like my sister and me, though I admit I love the sound of it.

"I do," Kendrick says, his gaze distant. "I went home and to visit the oracle. Now I have hope, even if we never find the sword."

I straighten. "I didn't think anyone but the Magical Seven of Elora were allowed to access the Oracle of Light." The Magical Seven are benevolent leaders of my home realm. Centuries ago, when the fae stole humans from Elora to fight in their wars, the Magical Seven came together to protect us. They closed the portals and forbade the fae from taking humans without their consent.

"That's what they want you to think, but only the oracle can choose who she'll speak with." He shrugs. "The oracle showed me someone who could tip the scales in this revolution."

My stomach knots. "Who?"

"The vision she showed me, Jasalyn, shadow princess, child of Mab, was of you ."

Someone pounds on the door. "Hale?" Remme shouts. "You dumb bastard, are you still alive?"

"I'm fine," he calls. "Stay outside, or I swear you're doing Skylar's wash for a week."

I hear female laughter and unhappy muttering that I can't make out.

"There has to be some mistake," I whisper. I hate being stuck in Faerie, but I have no part to play in a revolution. How could I?

"Do you have an identical twin?" He stands and makes a move, as if he's ready to head out the door. "Because I'll go grab her now. Tell me where to find her. Time is of the essence."

I roll my eyes. "Shut up. I just don't understand. Why me? I don't want to be part of this fight. In nine months, I will be as unwelcome in the human realm as my sister is now. Why would the oracle name me as the key to fixing it?" His words click in my mind, and I frown up at him. "You said I'm the hope if you never find the sword. Who is it you need me to kill, Kendrick?"

He holds my gaze. "His name is Erith."

"He's from Elora?"

"Yes. And I'll tell you all you need to know about him, but first I need you to agree to work with us. We'll keep looking for the sword because it can open a portal directly to Erith, wherever he may be, but even if we don't find it, we still have a chance if we have you. Help us. This is for the good of your homeland, Jas. It's your destiny. "

I nod to the door. "And yet your friends don't trust me."

"Whether you're officially fae now or months from now, Unseelie blood flows through your veins. We don't yet know or understand your loyalties." He sinks back to the edge of the bed. "But I believe in my heart that you want to protect those weaker than you. You're not just some Faerie princess to me. You're my friend. You're my Slayer, and when the oracle showed me your face, I believed there was finally hope again."

"You abducted me for a lot of maybe s. And if you ask me, all those maybe s sound unlikely. I don't know where this sword is or how to get to your Erith without it." I shake my head. "And I can't just disappear from the palace. My sister will come for me. She's probably already looking for me."

Kendrick cocks his head to the side. "I doubt that. Not when your guard is telling anyone who comes to your door that you've asked to be left alone in your chambers today. Anyone who asks to see you is told you aren't to be bothered until morning."

My chest tightens. He has connections inside the palace. "How do you know that?"

"Do you think that we nabbed you the first time we saw you? You are royalty. The Unseelie princess, next in line for the Throne of Shadows. You think my people would be foolish enough to take you from the woods when someone would be keeping an eye on you? We've been plotting for weeks on how to get to you."

"I thought you said you took me because I was in danger?"

He shrugs. "We were able to take you because you put yourself in danger. You made it easy—too easy." His jaw hardens. "What were you doing in those swamps? Do you realize what kind of people reside in that area?"

"So I'm supposed to be grateful to be your captive?"

"Grateful to be ours instead of theirs, yes. We won't hurt you or use you against your sister's court. I can't say as much for others who would've liked to get their hands on you today."

"And what about after today? My excuses only buy me so much time. They will expect to see me tomorrow."

"Leave that to us." He walks across the room, grabs his mug, and refills it from the steaming pitcher.

The door rattles as someone pounds on it again. "Are you going to make us sleep out here, Hale?"

Kendrick ignores Remme. "What else do you need to know?"

"Can I sleep on it?" I ask, already thinking through my escape. I don't want to leave without my ring, but I don't see my cloak anywhere, so I might not have a choice.

Kendrick comes to stand before me and sinks to his haunches so we're eye to eye. "You can sleep, but nothing will change. I need you, Jas."

Of all people, I never would've believed Kendrick would betray me in any way. Once, he was helping me plot my escape from Mordeus, and here I am, plotting my escape from him.

As soon as they're all sleeping, I'll call for my goblin.