10. Sage

CHAPTER 10

Sage

"How long do you honestly think you'll be able to hide who you really are?" Sawyer asked, his voice barely audible over the stream's soft burbling as if he, too, was finally realizing everything that had just happened.

"I don't know." But I needed to hold out as long as I could for Sawyer's sake. "I'll keep it up for as long as I can, but you need to get as far away from Erellod and the other kingdoms as fast as you can."

I sucked in a steadying breath. I couldn't turn back and there was no point in avoiding the inevitable. This was the path I'd been thrown onto and I would face it head on.

I unsheathed Sawyer's old dagger. It wasn't particularly sharp or as long as his new one since it belonged to the set he'd had as a child, but it would do. I could put a proper edge on it and his old sword when I got to the Black Tower. Right now, I needed it to cut my dress into strips. I liked the dress, but I was going to need to flatten my thankfully small breasts, and the dress was the only thing available that I could sacrifice.

Sawyer held out his new dagger before I could cut into the fabric. "It'll be easier with this."

"Thanks." I took the offered blade and worked on cutting a wide strip from the bottom of my dress, shortening it from my ankles to mid-calf.

"If you're going to be me, you should have my weapons." He unbuckled his sword belt and set it, with his sheathed sword and the empty dagger sheath, on the ground beside me. "I'd make you wear my most recent pair of boots as well, but I suspect the old pair will fit you better. If that fae lord was paying even the slightest attention, he'd know by where I stood behind Edred and from my clothes that I wasn't just a servant."

"I'm sure he just saw the red hair. That's all anyone sees." Except a part of me was afraid he'd remember more than just our red hair, that he'd remember me and the things I'd said to him.

"Anyone human ," Sawyer said. "We've never met a fae before. For all we know, his magic might have something to do with remembering everything."

"I doubt that's the case and even if it is, there isn't anything we can do about it." I finished cutting the first strip then cut another, shortening my dress to my knees.

Once I'd cut the second strips, I made Sawyer turn his back, grabbed the rucksack with Sawyer's clothes and hid behind some bushes. I quickly shrugged out of the dress and, for a moment, just stared at the massive red bruise blossoming across my torso from my left ribs up to the middle of my chest.

Edred could have seriously hurt me, and it was either his skill at knowing just how much force he needed to hurt but not break bone or dumb luck that I hadn't cracked any ribs. Then my gaze slid to my pendant and the small emerald captured in gold filigree.

It was possible a man might have a fine piece of jewelry, a token of affection from a lover he had to leave behind, but it would draw attention. And while I could probably keep it hidden beneath my shirt, there was always a chance something would happen, and it would slip out.

That, and as much as it was now the only thing I had left of our mother, it would be better to give it to Sawyer to sell. I'd have food and lodging at the Black Tower. I couldn't go anywhere and had no need for money. Sawyer, however, had nothing but the clothes he currently wore.

If he was going to travel out of the Five Great Kingdoms, he'd need money. And while he could sell the horse — and should definitely sell his red jerkin so he wouldn't stand out anymore than he already did with his red hair — selling the necklace would be best.

My heart hurt and tears of frustration — that I was grateful Sawyer couldn't see — stung my eyes.

Everything would have been fine if mother hadn't married Edred. Except she hadn't had a choice. Women weren't allowed to hold land. She wouldn't have been able to keep Herstind March for Sawyer if she hadn't remarried after our father had died.

She could have fostered us with other nobles and become a temple maiden for the Great Father, but that would have meant renouncing her title and the king would have given the March to someone else. And if my greatest fear was true that the king was involved in Sawyer's name being drawn in the lottery, then the March would have still ended up in Edred's control.

And I'd be damned to the darkest shadows if I was going to let Edred remain the Marquis of Herstind March. I didn't know how I'd unseat him, especially trapped at the Black Tower — or worse in prison for taking Sawyer's place among the Guard — but I would make it happen.

And that meant not standing around — naked! — feeling sorry for myself.

I hurriedly wrapped the strips around my breasts as tight as I could bare with my aching chest. I was going to have to experiment with how I wrapped them so I could still move properly and breathe while not looking like a girl, but for now, I just needed to get through the rest of the day and not draw suspicion the moment I stepped through the ring into the Gray.

For once my unfemininely small breasts were in my favor and could barely be seen once I'd pulled on Sawyer's shirt. And with his old, worn jerkin, they were completely hidden, along with most of the curve of my hips.

Now changed, I shoved the ruined dress into the rucksack so I could finish cutting it up later and stepped out from behind the bush.

"You still look like a girl," he said, giving my long hair a pointed look as I took off my soft leather shoes and shoved them in the rucksack then pulled on Sawyer's old boots.

"Of course I do." I rolled my eyes at him, knelt, and held out his dagger. "Now help me cut it. It needs to look like yours and I don't have a mirror."

He took the dagger and selected a lock. "There's no going back from this."

"There wasn't from the moment I took the binding spell," I replied.

"I'll find a way to break it." He cut the lock and dropped the long strands into the stream.

"And don't you dare try to figure out how high Edred's influence goes," I said, as he cut another handful of hair. "You run as far away as you can. Sell that red jerkin. The fabric is too fine and the color too distinctive. But keep the horse."

"Yes, Mother," he replied, but without any of the exasperation he usually had when I told him what to do.

"And take this." I drew the string holding my pendant over my head and held it out to him.

"I'm not taking your pendant." He cut off another chunk of hair.

"You'll need money."

"No." He dropped more hair into the stream.

"She'd understand. She'd want us to survive. She'd want you to take your rightful title and take care of the people of Herstind." I shook my head at him, the movement strange and light. I'd never cut my hair before, and it was disconcerting to feel the air against the back of my neck. "You can't do that if you're starving or if you die from the sweating sickness because you didn't have enough money for shelter during the winter."

His eyes grew glassy and for a moment I was reminded of how young he was. He wasn't even a man, not yet sixteen. He'd lost so much already, our parents, our brother, and now his home.

I pressed the pendant into his hand. "You can do this."

He swallowed and slipped the string over his head and hid the pendant beneath his shirt and jerkin. Then he cut away some final tufts of hair and handed me the dagger.

I sheathed it and secured his sword belt around my waist. We returned to the road and headed back to the ring in silence.

The ring was half lit up with two men waiting to step through, and we ducked back behind the underbrush until the area was empty.

"Put your cloak on, hide your hair, and get out of the Five Great Kingdoms," I said, pulling him into a firm hug. The Five Kingdoms were on good terms with the much younger kingdoms to our east and our north and it should be easy for him to cross the boarder without drawing too much attention. From there, he needed to head west or south. "You're smart, can read, and do numbers. You should be able to find work as a bookkeeper or scribe."

He hugged me back and nodded against my shoulder.

"But don't take work as a tutor. Only noble houses hire tutors and there's a chance someone could recognize you."

"Yes, Mother," he said again, his arms still wrapped around me.

"Now go."

I squeezed him tighter. I didn't want to let go. I didn't know if I'd ever see him again. I wish I'd had a vision of that, wished I knew this would turn out all right and everything would end up fine. But all I did know was that he wasn't going to die in the Gray.

I forced myself to let go and nudged him in the direction of the ring. He hurried across the clearing, quickly pressed a pattern, and stepped through the blinding white light.

The light slowly dissipated and I stared at the empty space, my heart aching and my stomach tight with uncertainty.

I was just about to step out of the underbrush and let the ring take me to the Black Tower, when I heard the creak of wagon wheels and the slow, rhythmic clomp of hooves on the hard-packed dirt road.

I ducked back behind the cover of the bushes and watched as a long procession of merchants and farmers, some with their carts full, some with their carts empty, come down the road. They were led by a middle-aged man with medium brown skin who wore a worn leather jerkin and a sheathed short sword at his hip — most likely a guardsman from the town — and an older man in a cream and gold robe — the town's priest.

Most merchants and those who regularly used the fae rings to travel knew the patterns to take them to where they wanted to go, but anyone who didn't travel frequently wouldn't know the correct pattern and would need the priest.

The procession was long, and I didn't want to walk up to the ring and have it awaken without me touching it. Even if the merchants, farmers, and village people didn't know what the ring awakening without touching it meant, I was sure the priest of the Great Father would.

And while approaching the ring with everyone watching would be an opportunity to test my disguise as a boy, I didn't know what kind of reaction I'd get. I was a sacrifice, no longer really a person in Erellod. Would they shun me? Pity me?

Without a doubt they'd remember my red hair and I didn't want that, either. So I waited as everyone took their turn, either lighting up the pattern they already knew and stepping through or asking the priest to do it.

By the time the guardsman and the priest had headed back to town and stepped out of sight, the sun was setting with reds and oranges on the western horizon and velvety darkness was creeping from the east.

I took a quick moment to listen for anyone else, then hurried out of the underbrush to the ring, the fire in my arm bursting to life. I didn't want to risk another group approaching before I went through, and I didn't know if the rings were used all night long or not. If I didn't go now, I'd probably lose my nerve — at least until the binding spell forced me to go through a ring or it killed me.

White light blossomed in the ring before I was halfway across the clearing and fully filled the ring by the time I got there.

With a deep breath that did nothing to steady my nerves, I tightened my grip on my rucksack and strode through.

The ring's magic tingled over my body, and I walked into a cold mist that curled around me, chilling my skin.

I stood on a wide, bricked area with a road trailing ahead of me down a slope. Except I couldn't see past the circle of light blazing from the ring to see where the road led, and when the magic in the ring vanished, I was plunged into darkness. There wasn't a glimmer of sunset on the horizon, and only a hint of moonlight behind thick clouds to tell me which way was east.

I blinked, trying to get my eyes to adjust to the dim light. I could see a few paces ahead of me, but that was it, and there was no indication of where I should go or even that the Black Tower was anywhere near me.

Off in the distance something screeched and the cold wind gusted, swirling the mist around my legs and making me shiver.

I should have taken a second cloak when we'd fled Herstind, but Sawyer only had one and I hadn't wanted to take the time to go to my room to get mine. That, and my cloak wasn't practical like Sawyer's. It was red with gold embroidery along the hem and distinctly feminine.

The screech came again. Louder and closer and didn't sound like it had come from a bird.

Another screech and another, these ones lower in pitch. Then two more. All getting closer, coming from all around me.

My pulse lurched. There were monsters in the Gray. From their screams, it sounded like they'd found prey, and I had a horrible feeling that pray was me.