14. Danica

Danica

14

M y entire body feels like one massive bruise as I slowly peel off my sweat-plastered training clothes and collapse onto my bed. I'm sure even my hair is sore after the intense sparring with Erik. Every overworked muscle burns from the session.

Who knew learning badass combat skills would be so grueling?

Wincing, I roll to my side, muscles shrieking. Note to self—Invent Fantasy World ibuprofen ASAP. Or at least beg Faderyn for a magical hot tub.

Not that I'm complaining too much. Once my heart stopped ricocheting around my ribs from Erik's surprise attacks, the exhilaration of actually going toe-to-toe with a vampire warrior began to sink in. And miraculously, I avoided having my ass handed to me on a platter in under ten seconds.

Until he pulled that dirty sweeping kick, at least...My back kissed dirt hard enough to bang the air from my lungs three times. But still—I was moving, landing a few blows! Once the shock wore off, fury and stubbornness made me get up swinging every time.

It's unreal—this newfound speed and reaction time awakening inside me. As if my cosmic DNA has decided, now is the time to activate my warrior upgrade package.

Could this be another stage of my freakish ascension as a prophesied savior?

I've never shown unique athletic gifts before. But something in me just clicked, and I tapped into some supernatural overdrive.

Maybe the magic awakened dormant talents when I crossed realms?

Maybe it's the Terraglide Stone finally activating.

It's like my body keeps hitting surprise power-ups from Boss Level DNA. It's very cool when it lets me dodge danger, but it's also terrifying.

I mean, what else could I suddenly unlock at random? Dragon wings? Shooting laser beams from my eyeballs?

Groaning, I drag myself vertically to change clothes before dinner. I'm caked in a layer of grime that even my ravenous appetite can't ignore for long.

I rummage for something clean in my trunk, eventually pulling out another set of buttery black leather battle gear that makes me freeze in dismay. What the hell is Axilya thinking? Battle Bikini?

I quickly wash off as best as I can in the stone basin.

I'm trying to squeeze my curves into this tight leather battle ensemble—that does nothing to hide my cleavage, by the way—without looking like a B-grade dominatrix fantasy! The outfit laces up the sides, amplifying the bondage vibe even more, with some frilly scraps of fabric masquerading as a skirt. It's like the lovechild of a biker gang and a burlesque show, with a dash of post-apocalyptic flair thrown in.

I mean, I'm all for embracing my inner badass. But there's a fine line between fierce warrior princess and discount store Xena cosplay, and I'm not sure which side of that line I'm landing on.

Still, with my limited wardrobe options, beggars can't be choosers. It's either this or the tattered remains of my cargo pants and T-shirt, which are looking more like a rejected Mad Max costume with every passing day.

Sighing, I shimmy into the tight leather that fits like a sexy glove. The silver belt and leather gloves add more badassery to the ensemble.

I can't restrain an outraged yelp at my reflection. Think Kate Beckinsale in "Underworld" with an extra touch of sex appeal—and more pronounced curves. Even my breasts are nearly spilling out.

Mortified, I tug at the skintight top, trying to adjust it for more coverage.

Nope... still painted on obscenely. Mother of goddesses, I hope a long tunic or cloak comes with this, or things will get uncomfortable in the coed common area!

Wondering why Axilya chose this possible battle costume, I throw on boots and attempt damage control, fluffing my long, staticky hair to cover the girls as best I can. Maybe if I keep their eyes averted and make a beeline for the dining area, people will politely ignore my do-me leather outfit.

Cheeks flaming, I slink out of my tent only to practically walk straight into Erik and Faderyn waiting outside. Both their eyes widen slightly, flashing with male appreciation at my overtly sexy battle costume before they smooth their expressions into careful nonchalance.

Erik clears his throat, "That's, uhh... quite an outfit you have there."

I resist the urge to cross my arms over my accentuated chest. "Yeah, I have no idea what Axilya was thinking with these getups," I mutter, reddening further under their politely averted gazes.

Unable to bear further awkwardness, I set off swiftly toward the campfire's promise of food. Having my mouth occupied with eating might distract me from my Xena Warrior Princess ensemble.

Erik and Faderyn trail after a polite distance behind as I make my flaming-cheeked walk of shame through camp.

I plop at a long wooden table on an empty bench, grateful for shadows. Faderyn passes me a steaming wooden bowl filled with rich gravy and tender meat chunks. My stomach rumbles at the savory aroma.

I practically inhale the first bites, the flavors bursting lush and woodsy on my tongue. Some fae game animal, I guess. Maybe it's better not to question too closely. I scrape the last drops of gravy and continue mopping remnants with brown bread.

As I continued stuffing myself, Erik diplomatically clears his throat. "You showed remarkable progress today, Little Huntress. With training, you could become a fierce warrior."

I make a sarcastic sound around mouthfuls of bread but give him an approving thumbs-up. From Mr. Warrior Perfectionist himself, high praise indeed! It bolsters me for the matches ahead—maybe I do have the right makings for this epic quest business after all.

Wiping my mouth, I look at Faderyn. "Do you think I could request an audience with Lady Axilya? Hopefully, there will be updates on the diplomatic rescue mission for my man from Queen Viper."

Faderyn inclines his head. "I believe that could be arranged without issue. I'll see if she's available—I shall send word tonight."

I breathe a little easier—finally feeling proactive about helping Rhyland!

"Anything with the bond yet?" Erik asks gently, his silver eyes glinting with empathy.

My mood sinks. I shake my head grimly, fresh worry for Rhyland threatening to override my full stomach.

"Still nothing but darkness. Something is blocking our connection," I say, fighting off worse possibilities.

Sensing my distress, Erik grasps my hand. "Have faith, Dani. If anyone can win free and return to you, it's my obstinate brother." Despite anxiety plaguing me, Erik's steadfast confidence provides much-needed silence. "It pleases me to see you replenishing your strength properly, Little Huntress. Today's training taxed even my skills."

I meet Erik's approval with a grateful smile. The soreness is already lessening thanks to good food, celestial-grade stamina, and looking ridiculously hot in leather. Small sacrifice if more intense workouts await!

Despite anxiety, Erik's confidence warms my chest. I go to run a hand through my hair and bump hard gold—still forgetting I'm rocking this fancy crown. My fingers trace the delicate metalwork, thoughts swirling back to my quest for the mythical fae stone.

Noticing my distraction, Faderyn gestures at the headdress. "Tell me more about this relic—the stone and its connection to your arrival here."

I take a fortifying gulp of honey wine—maybe getting drunk two nights in a row isn't smart.

"The Faerite stone is supposed to turn me into Doctor Doolittle meets Mother Nature. Gives me an edge with critters and greenery."

Faderyn looks intrigued, leaning forward. "And do you sense the Faerite's pull now, however faintly?"

I shake my head in frustration. "Nope, it's an enigma. I felt it briefly when we arrived, pulling me toward the white tower. But, the feeling shut off quickly as soon as Satan Jr. started his rampage."

Understanding widens his eyes. "The Ivory Tower marks what remains of the Sun Court's palace."

I nearly choke on my wine. "That's the Sun Court?"

"Was. Much lies abandoned. The Light King and his Radiant Queen only now hold court at the central citadel. The Sun Palace."

My pulse quickens as theories race. Erik voices my speculation. "Could the Faerite have rested within their stronghold all this time? And Dani's gifts sensed its proximity?"

I toss the idea around. "Think it's there? Can we check it out?"

Faderyn clears his throat, raining on my hopeful parade. "Recall relations between the Sun throne and outlier settlements like ours remain... complicated. Accessing the old palace uninvited would carry consequences."

My excitement fizzles out, deflating. I slump into the bench. "Great, just my luck," I mutter. "World's on the brink of doom, and I'm penciled in for tea with the royals."

Dragging my hands through my hair, I mull over these theories on where the Faerite stone could be moonlighting—like some cosmic paperweight in the Fae equivalent of Versailles.

I throw Faderyn a pointed look. "Okay, Captain Know-it-All, spill. If Queen Fancy's pad is where we're headed, there's gotta be a way in. Loose window latches? Servant's entrance? Hidden passages?"

Faderyn's mouth quirks with amusement. "You possess a unique manner of speech, My Lady. Regarding weaknesses..." His angular face grows thoughtful. "While I admire your daring, my friend, cooler heads should prevail." He suggests gently. "Approaching the Sun Court openly as honored guests may yield better results."

I quash the protest threatening to burst and concede to Faderyn's calm approach. He's got the savvy. Erik's on board, too, even if he's itching for action. We're rookies in this game of otherworldly chess.

I gulp a lungful of calm, sending the stress off on a little vacation, and dial back my inner troublemaker's tunes. "Alright, I'll play nice and sip some tea."

Erik's chuckle rumbles through the air, a sound that's got 'mischief' scribbled all over it. "Agreed. The covert option makes a fine contingency," he says, the corners of his mouth twitching with suppressed eagerness.

Oh, it's written all over him—he's got his fingers crossed for our first plan to tank. No question about it—the old-world vampire warrior's got a hunger for a brawl with whatever lurks in the shadows, way more than schmoozing with the fae elite at some stuffy court affair!

Faderyn graciously inclines his head, relieved to circumvent my schemes. "Then we will embark on this hunch as soon as we deal with the Shadow Court."

I throwFaderyna sideways glance. "Hey, what's the scoop onAxilya?" The words roll off my tongue with a hint of mischief. She's a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma, and I've got this itch to scratch beneath that composed exterior. Something tells me there's a whole lot more to MadamWhispervalethan meets the eye,

"It's… complicated," Faderyn says, taking a breath. "One I can't tell. That's her story. Let's say nothing is as it seems."

More riddles, but I drop it.

I finish my wine, set the glass down, and level a determined finger at Faderyn. "Come morning, I'm dragging Ax out of bed for updates on busting my guy out of Her Majesty's glorified prison. And you—" I wag my finger, "you're going to give me the lowdown on why she's got me playing dress-up like I'm the long-lost leather-clad, bondage-loving relative of Xena."

I gather my dishes, catching Erik and Faderyn poorly disguising glances at my leather ensemble.

Erik has the grace to look abashed. "You cut quite the striking figure in shadowed leather, Little Huntress..."

As I slip past, I can't resist a quick, playful flick to Erik's ear. His wide-eyed response nearly makes me crack up.

Their chuckles are a cozy blanket wrapped around me as I retreat to my tent, a comforting end to a day filled with the weird and wonderful.