16. Veyka

In the northeastern foothills of the Spine.Arran's words, spoken months and months ago when we'd first wondered so naively about rifts. I let the meaning of the words fade to nothing, let myself bathe in the memory of the syllables scraping over his tongue, the rough stubble on his throat moving as he spoke.

Would things have been different if I had listened to Parys all those months ago? Would I still be standing in a brutally cold pine forest, alone?

Fire crackled behind me, then the hushed voices of Lyrena and Cyara arguing over who would take the first watch of the night. Lonely, but not alone, my fragile heart amended.

We were moving painfully slowly with our human prisoners in tow. Diana, in particular, was a mess. Cyara was the gentlest soul among us, and even she had not been able to coax much out of her before the woman collapsed in on herself.

I had been broken like that before. Before Arran came and stitched my soul back together. Before I had friends.

Even now, it was a minute by minute battle to keep myself from falling to my knees and sobbing at the ache in my chest. Only the layer of ice I'd encased my heart in, that I'd built in my chest, kept me upright. If I could not feel the other parts of myself fully, if I was dangerously close to that numbness I'd felt after Arthur's death… I could not dwell on that. I had to protect Annwyn. I had to stop the succubus. I could not fall apart.

Cyara could work on Diana. I still had Percival to torture. Once he outlived his usefulness, I'd remove his head from his body. The terrestrial realm was known for its brutality. They'd probably think nothing of me spiking his head to the battlements of Eilean Gayl or Wolf Bay.

But first we had to get there.

After several days of travel, we were close.

I did not need Cyara's maps, however well-crafted they were by the librarian's daughter. The rift called to me. It was a soft hum in my bones, a trill in the back of my mind that never quite stopped.

It hadn't been like this before, back when we went through the rift at Eldermist. But I had not accepted my power then, either.

Now, I knew that if I closed my eyes, stepped through the void, I would appear at the rift itself. I'd have done it to save us from this tedious journey. Except I had never taken more than one other along with me through the void. The glowing ember of power inside of me was strong, but would it be strong enough to carry two or three companions at once?

I had never even taken myself from one realm to another, let alone done so with another. Had never taken another step like that, deeper into my power, without Arran at my side.

Even if I took my companions through one at a time, there was nothing to stop Percival from using the moment of vulnerability to slide a dagger between my ribs. I was not stupid enough to believe his compliance would last one second beyond his first opportunity to escape.

This was the best way, the safe way. Over land to the rift near the Spine. It would deposit us in the exact same geographical location, but in Annwyn. Then we could travel on to Eilean Gay.

I would not endanger my friends. The arrogant use of my power had already lost me my mate. My partner. The strategic one, the steady one. The warm body that wrapped around mine at night and soothed away the fears that the others could sympathize with, but only Arran could truly understand.

I stood on the edge of the camp, staring out into the darkness. I listened to the sounds of Diana and Percival being settled in for the night, even more tightly bound, separated. The rustle of a tent flap, the even quieter rustle of wings. Cyara was going to sleep. Lyrena was on first watch.

I lingered still. Until Percival stopped grumbling about the cold the open tent flaps let in—open so that Lyrena could watch both him and the camp—and his breathing evened out. The rhythmic sound of Lyrena sharpening her blade on a whetstone merged with the animal sounds of the forest around us.

When the moon was fully overhead, just visible, and all human and fae sounds had ebbed away to nothing, I shot a look back over my shoulder to Lyrena.

Her bright eyes were already waiting.

I tipped my head toward the darkness of the forest.

She shook her chin sharply to the side. No.

One casual step. I am going.

Her lips thinned into a line. No.

I glanced up at the moon, then back at the tents. I will be back in time to take the next watch.

Lyrena stood up, hands on her hips, gripping her sword. As if she might charge me, try to subdue me and tie me down to keep me from slipping away. But mere ropes could not hold me now.

She looked meaningfully at Percival, a dark form in the tent a few yards away. She could not leave him and follow me. She took a step toward Cyara's tent.

I shook my head sharply. But it was everything else about me that held her in place. The way I squared my shoulders, the imperious tilt of my face. The command from a queen to her sentinel. Stay.

My golden knight dropped back down to her seat and glared at me.

I winked, and then disappeared into the night.