CHAPTER 47

EMONIE

A sudden lurch beneath me makes my eyes pop open in alarm, and I become instantly awake. I'm nearly sent sprawling as someone hefts up the back of the prisoner's cart. I start to roll, but I reach out and grip the metal bars to stop myself before I slam against the other side. I hold on until the cart is dropped back down, and I curse beneath my breath from the jolt.

I've been in here for a couple days now, and my body is sore all over. I look over at the fae who knocked me around so unceremoniously and realize he's hitched the cart to a pair of harnessed horses.

Things stalled after the veined fae died, so everything was at a bit of a standstill. The king has probably been figuring out how to deal with Lydia and Orea at the same time. But maybe this means the contingent is finally going to be heading back toward the capital like he wanted.

I eye the fae as he checks the horse's harnesses, and when he starts to leave, I call out to him. "Hey, I'm hungry, and I need some water."

At least they let me out to relieve myself a couple times, but that's been the entirety of their hospitality.

The soldier turns to look at me and then comes over. "Yeah?" He stops in front of me, leering at me in my revealing dress. Then he spits in my face, almost right into my mouth.

Lovely.

"There," he says as I flinch in disgust. "Enjoy." He turns and walks away with a laugh.

"What a complete bastard," I grumble as I wipe his spit away.

I hear noises ahead, and sure enough, it looks like I'm at the very back of the gathered Stone Swords who are starting to march toward Lydia.

They're taking me with them, and that part is quite convenient, since it means I'll be back in the city with the Vulmin. But they're taking me to be burned alive , and that part is not so convenient.

But it's just an obstacle I have to figure out how to get around. Simple. Easy.

I can handle this.

Chewing on my lip, I look around, watching the camp, trying to come up with a plan. After a few more minutes, a burst of voices draws my attention toward the buildings, and King Carrick comes striding out. Unfortunately, all my finger crossing was for nothing except a cramp in my hand. The goddesses have not, in fact, blessed us with his demise.

Shame.

However, Carrick is yelling and he does not look pleased.

Which pleases me.

"You're telling me that one single Orean managed to wipe out every one of our soldiers at the bridge?" he shouts, rounding on the twins who are following behind him like chicks to a mother hen.

One of the twins replies, but it's much quieter. He looks like he's trying desperately to placate the furious king, though he really seems to be doing a terrible job at it.

"What do you mean there's now a barrier? What kind of barrier?"

I'm not certain, but I think the twins say something about ice.

"Orea is pathetic. We should have crushed them all by now! And you should have been checking in on the bridge!"

This time, I hear the reply. "Sire, we have made great strides."

"And yet, you two have also just informed me that you have not received word from our soldiers at the gilded castle nor an update on the next frozen kingdom," the king seethes. "Your strides are failing, and that is unacceptable!"

A soldier steps forward, one of the higher ranking Badges. "Our contingent to Lydia is on the move," he informs the king. "But I can immediately gather another battalion and go to the bridge. I can get you a full report—"

Carrick interrupts him with a furious look. "No. It is obvious that the incompetence in Orea needs to be remedied. I will go to the bridge and handle it myself since everyone else seems to be inept." Carrick glares at him before moving to the twins, his face hardened and terrifying. "You two will bring me back at once. I'll take care of this barrier ." Then his head snaps to the army camp. "I want every other soldier not leaving for Lydia readied immediately. We leave for Orea now . The full second wave!"

He turns and strides away, while the rest of them exchange looks and start to scramble. The camp was busy before, but now it becomes downright hectic.

Everyone hurries around, readying to leave. The Badges shout orders left and right to the Stone Swords, every single soldier armoring up and getting outfitted with their weapons.

Longingly, I watch some of them gnaw on food and chug down water. My mouth aches with thirst and my stomach growls. I blame both the Stone Swords for not giving me any provisions and this cursed deadlands. It feels like it's sucking me dry.

Oh well. I'll have to do this without sustenance too. I can handle this. I'm a Vulmi, for goddesses' sake.

A couple minutes pass and then I see my jailer come hurrying over. I perk up, a plan forming in my mind.

I scoot forward, knees tucked beneath me, and I sit up straight. Shove my breasts up a bit. "Oh, thank goodness," I exclaim, breathing out a sigh of relief. I start hiking the gold dress up my thighs too, and his eyes widen when I go higher and higher … "I really need your help," I tell him in my sultriest voice—and I'm quite good at the sultry voice. Years of practice.

When he's just a step away, I let my magic pour over me. Bones shift, cheeks spread, lips thin out, scalp tingles, and my eyes water. Within a blink, my glamour magic has changed me into him.

He really should've been careful when shoving me into this cart.

I clear my throat just as he stops in front of the door, and he glances up from my exposed legs to my face—well, his face.

His eyes go wide. "What—"

I strike before he can finish his sentence.

My hands lash out and I grab him by his neck and yank him forward, smashing his skull into the bars as hard as I can. He makes a noise like a carpet being rolled up, a stuffed breath escaping his tight throat. Then the jailer crumples, but I shove my hands beneath his arms to keep him up.

"Goddess, you're a heavy asshole," I say between my teeth as I shift him so I can hold him up with one arm. With my other hand, I fish at his buckle where the keyring is.

My fingers bungle around for a moment, my back and arm straining to keep him up. I give a quick look around, but the camp is so hectic with everyone rushing around that no one is noticing what's happening.

As soon as I have hold of the keyring, the jailer nearly slips out of my hold. I manage to catch him, while struggling to curl my hand back toward the lock. Since I'm doing it one-handed, I fumble several times. Sweat gathers at my neck, my whole body going hot with nerves.

"Come on…" I curse the lock and my blundering fingers, casting another nervous glance around. I've gotten lucky so far, but none of it matters if I don't get this damn key—

In.

I turn the key, making the bolt jump open and fall to the ground. As soon as it does, I let the jailer's body drop too. I shove open the door and leap to the ground a second later. My heart pounds in my chest, adrenaline rushing over me like a downpour.

I climb under the cart and pull the jailer with me, which takes every lick of my strength. Dragging a deadweight body while crouched under something is way more difficult than I thought.

Using my feet braced on the ground in my crouched position, I heave him under until his feet no longer poke out. We're not totally hidden, but the two wheels are large enough that we're somewhat concealed on both sides. I dart a glance around again before I get to work.

"Sorry about this," I tell the unconscious male. "I won't look."

I waste no time since I have none to spare. I start stripping him, but this part goes quite quickly. "I wish I could say you're the first fae I've had to knock out and strip, but alas, you're not," I mutter.

As I work, I also use my magic to glamour more of my body too. Just enough to make me fill out more so I look less like a slim female and more like a bulky male. I can't take on his entire body—not that I'd want to, but definitely not with the stone around my ribs. The best I can do is fill out a bit more so his clothes won't hang off me.

After I free him of his clothing, I yank on the pants and then take off my dress before pulling on his shirt and armor. It's a tight fit because of this awful stone band around me, but the long sleeves and trousers hide my stone cuffs very nicely.

Then I lay my gold dress over his groin so that he's not so exposed. It's the least I can do, really.

Though, to be honest, there isn't much to cover up.

I'm out of breath by the time I crawl down to his feet and yank off his boots. I immediately get hit in the face with his stench. "Oh, great purple skies, your feet are disgusting!" I hiss at him.

This smell can't be normal. Surely, he has something growing there. I hesitate, wondering if I could forgo his shoes and try to filch someone else's, but I know I can't risk it. Cursing him under my breath the whole time, I pull on his boots and lace them up. "If I get a foot rash after this, I am going to be very annoyed," I tell him.

Finished, I crawl up to the wheel and peer between the spokes, making sure no one is looking this way. Then I slip out from beneath it and straighten up. My pants and boots are covered in gray dust from the ground, but there's nothing I can do about that.

Trying to act natural, I walk up to the hitch, eyeing the horses. The last thing I want is for them to take off and expose my unconscious friend. I can't lift him into the cart, and I don't want to waste my power having to glamour him either. So he's staying right there, for as long as he naps.

At least I'm letting his feet air out. Honestly, he should be thanking me.

The camp is nothing but noise and rush. Dust kicks up into the air as the soldiers behind me get ready to go to the bridge, while the convoy ahead is on the move for Lydia.

I'm really lucky that the prison cart goes last. Or in this case, doesn't go at all.

My pulse is racing, but I force myself to act calm. I work my way up to the moss green horse, smoothing my hand over his flank. "Easy, pony," I murmur when he twitches. "Me and you are going to go for a little ride, okay?"

His green eye rolls toward me as I come up to his neck. "No more pulling prison carts for you. You're better than that."

He chuffs.

"Good pony," I say as I move to his side harness. I need to detach it from his saddle so it's not totally obvious that he was supposed to be hitched to something. "There we go…"

"Soldier!"

I startle so badly I nearly take out my eye on the buckle when I flinch forward. Spinning around, I face the male striding over to me. "What are you doing?" he demands.

"Just securing the saddles, sir," I lie, dropping my voice as low as I can. It would be nice if I'd had time to come up with something better than that, but I'm working on my toes here. In a pair of very smelly boots.

At least I manage to say it with complete confidence, because usually, that's all you need to convince someone. I'm also very good at sounding like a male. Years of practice with that too.

But the soldier's eyes move from me, over to the cart, and I start sweating. Profusely.

Don't look down. Please don't look down. There's definitely not a naked body behind the wheel.

"Where's the prisoner?"

My heart just might fall right out of my chest.

"Uh—Had to move her to the other cart, sir," I say, jutting my thumb toward the marching convoy. "They didn't tell me why."

It's an army, someone higher up is always telling other people what to do, right? Right. I just really hope there is another cart, or I'm dead.

The soldier grits his teeth, glancing over. "Fucking Revi, always pulling this shit."

I try not to collapse in a fit of relief.

Instead, I scoff in agreement. "Yeah, it's always fucking Revi."

Poor Revi.

"Fine," he says. "Since you're not needed in Lydia, you come with us."

My mouth pops open in surprise, eyes widening before I can catch myself. "But…uh, sir…"

"Get a helmet and sword," he orders. "And get that horse up to the king immediately. He doesn't like the ones we already brought him."

Shit on a saddle.

Near the king is the last place I want to be.

But I don't dare push my luck. The goddess of favor and filch has already blessed me with my pilfered body and the fact that I got out of that cart in the first place.

So I say, "Of course, sir," and then I quickly turn around and continue unhitching the horse.

I'm hoping the soldier will walk off and leave me to my escape plans, but instead, he hollers at another soldier, and the two of them start talking right beside me, making it so I can't sneak away.

I really hate this male. Why is it always the aggravating ones that stick around?

Chewing on a silent curse, I take the horse and start leading it through the barracks, stealing a few looks back as I go. I'm sweating buckets now. All it's going to take is one soldier to look under the cart or move it.

I need to put distance between us.

I eye the camp, and I manage to swipe a helmet from the ground and shove it over my head. I don't see any spare swords lying around, but I do manage to grab someone's waterskin and then steal a piece of meat off the skewer that was left by the fire.

I bite into it as we walk, barely chewing as I swallow the fatty pieces down. Delicious. Then I drain my entire waterskin before tossing it aside. When I wipe my mouth, I try to figure out what to do next.

I need to get rid of this horse.

Just as soon as I have that thought, I start looking around for a soldier I can try and catch unaware so I can pass the horse off to them instead. Then I can run into someone, steal another face, and try to catch up with the Lydia-bound soldiers. Then I can warn the Vulmin.

I can still pull this off, I just need—

"What took you so long?" a soldier barks as he comes up to me. He yanks on the horse's rein, signaling me to move faster. "Go!"

I get swept into a press of bodies as soldiers line up in formation. My eyes shoot ahead, and there's the king, dressed in his own stone armor, looking formidable as he stands with the twins.

I want to run in the other direction as fast as I can. My adrenaline wants me to do that too, but I can't.

So I force myself forward until I'm behind King Carrick, and then I hold out the reins as I bend at the waist. "Sire, your horse."

Even though I'm in complete glamour, my nervousness spikes, and the stone bands around my body practically burn through my clothes.

Can he sense stone? Will he know it's me?

A wordless prayer to the goddesses blares in my head.

The king doesn't even spare me a glance. He snatches the reins from my hands and eyes the horse before mounting himself onto the saddle.

Behind him—behind us —the army is forming more and more perfect rows of soldiers. And I'm right here, at the front. With the Stone King.

Not good.

As soon as he's on the horse, he turns to one of the Badges. Beside him, the twins sit on their own horses, waiting.

"Fassa and Friano will take me through. Lead the army to the bridge," Carrick commands. Then he pauses. "The faction is waiting?"

I see the Badge give a tight nod. "Yes, Your Majesty. We confirmed that they just arrived."

"Good. Meet up with them and ensure they fall in line. I want them bringing up the rear. They can enter Orea after we've cleared the bridge."

"Of course, my king."

I watch Carrick and the twins take off on their horses, steering deeper into the deadlands. I frown, wondering where they're going.

The Badge turns to the soldiers lining up, which unfortunately, includes me.

"Forward march!" he shouts, voice rattling through my brittle nerves and making them snap.

Everyone starts to move in their neat rows, while I'm stuck in the front lines. As a Stone Sword soldier. Marching toward the bridge of Lemuria.

Unless I can get away, I'm going to Orea .

I'm quite certain it's the pounding panic that's messing up my thoughts, but all I can think about is how badly my feet are going to smell once I get there.

Badly.

Very, very badly.