Thirty-One

ELLIS

Eve insisted we find the pleasure house and check on her friends, but she had no idea where it was, or even if it was in the city.

"Ask your stupid princess; I bet she knows!" Eve raged, tears falling down her cheeks.

I understood her pain, but my mission was clear: protect Eve, and get to the barrier. That didn't include finding her friends. And I told her so.

I expected the tears and the swearing, the anger and the crying.

But none of it came.

Eve went quiet and simply followed. It was disturbing in a way I didn't anticipate, so I tried to focus on escaping the city instead, our stowaway included.

I thought we'd have to sneak away from the city, but no one paid us any mind in the surrounding chaos. The few guards we came across were busy helping civilians and couldn't be bothered to pay us any mind. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell Feyanna to cover herself with her dirty cloak so that no one would recognize her.

It didn't matter, though. No one cared, and no one stopped us. Everyone had their own problems.

I could not tell who was who: rebel versus Noble. There was no order or structure to the cries and screams as people ran through the streets. It was just senseless violence, the weather itself seemingly on the rebels side as it pounded the palace and lit fires with lightning. Wind toppled buildings and people alike, its fierce howling a war cry all on its own.

The weather lessened to an irritating rain the further we got from the city. Feyanna led us down a pristine path led with white stones, smooth under our feet. I was so used to darting through backwoods and keeping down that it felt surreal to walk out in the open.

Eve wasn't happy. I could see it in her tense shoulders, her pursed lips, and the wary looks she kept shooting Feyanna.

But she was smart and resourceful. Eve bent down here and there at random, first grabbing a ratted blanket and then filling it with things she found in the rubble: an extra cloak, molded bread, and even an entire head of cabbage.

Food. Supplies.

We were heading out into the wilderness and, once again, Eve was the only one keeping her wits about her.

Gods above, I loved her.

"I can feel you staring. I assure you, I'm just as overcome as any other pale-faced maiden would be, quivering in her dainty slippers and crying without shedding a tear." Eve gathered the bundle to her chest, exasperated. "I will cry and throw a fuss later! Now is simply not the time."

Huffing, she turned back around and kept marching toward the woods.

I hid an inappropriate grin. I was absolutely and irrevocably obsessed with this woman.

I highly doubted Eve would ever throw a fit like I'd seen my spoiled younger sister do when something didn't go her way.

Eve collected an impressive bundle by the time we reached the outskirts of town, with naught left between us and the wilderness except a butcher's shop. It waited untouched compared to the trauma that had been dealt out further in town, complete with rows of birds freshly slaughtered this morning, hanging on a line. It seemed odd how clean and untouched they sat amidst all the chaos, almost as if someone had put them there on purpose.

Eve bent down, tying all of her bounty into the blanket and securing it with a knot.

"I can carry—" I offered, only to have Eve shove it at Feyanna and keep the ragged cloak.

"No, she may carry it. I will carry this."

Without looking, she turned and grabbed two chickens off the line, wrapping them up in the cloak and throwing them over her shoulder.

I tilted my head to the side, unable to summon words. She was glorious with her ragged dress and dirty hair spilling out from the leather thong that tried in vain to keep it all away from her face. Dust and soot covered her cheeks, but the determined gleam in her eye never wavered.

Not once.

My queen.

"What are you staring at? You may carry this if you must carry something." She shook the trussed up chickens in my face, red beards flapping upside down.

Eve could hand me the chickens and send me off into the woods, and I'd likely starve. I didn't know how to prepare them to eat. I'd always had a team of servants to do it for me. Ignoring their dead, cold eyes, I took them and the cloak and slung it around my shoulders.

Eve rolled her own eyes and turned toward a drying rack where rows of salted pork glistened, ready for the plucking. Eve stuffed as many as she could into her pockets, and even down the front of her dress.

"If I glance up from stuffing this pork down my bosom to see you staring at me with anything other than awe and thanks, I will punch you."

I'd fill her with pork, all right.

Another chicken hit my chest, and I picked it up, trying in vain to rearrange my face into something she wouldn't take issue with.

Eve said, "Come on. And no fae talk from you unless absolutely necessary. Got it?"

Feyanna's eyes were huge as she nodded at Eve, who led the charge out into the woods and toward the imposing mountain line rising off into the distance, dead animals hanging off her shoulders.

I shifted uncomfortably as my pants tightened in a very inconvenient manner.

How cruel a fate to know she'd ravished me that night on the balcony, and I couldn't remember how it felt.

You are free of drink. Woo her.

Right. Eve was the last woman to be wooed.

In silence, our unhappy trio left the chaos of the city and disappeared into the trees.

A few hours later, brambles covered the bottom of my breeches, and tears in my tunic were made worse by thorns and branches.

Eve was oddly quiet. Feyanna wasn't talking either. The poor girl had taken to walking just a half step behind my right shoulder as if using me as a shield between her and Eve.

I wondered why.

And I was hungry.

Eve stopped suddenly as darkness surrounded us like a second cloak, making it harder to keep up with her in the burgeoning twilight. I should have expected it, but could only watch as Feyanna kept going, not seeing Eve stop.

I winced as she plowed right into the much larger, sturdier girl.

"Oompf!"

No language barrier got in the way as Feyanna collapsed backward on her ass, barely nudging Eve an inch forward. Or had Eve simply refused to budge? Either seemed probable.

The cloak tied up with supplies went flying, somehow opening and spilling everywhere.

"Oh, for the love of—"

Eve bit back what was likely a scathing retort, showing impressive restraint as she fell to her hands and knees to pick the bread off the ground, instead of calling Feyanna any name in the book. It wasn't like the fae princess would understand it.

Feyanna sniffed and followed suit, gathering up the rest in her arms. Her eyes were wide and tearful. The urge to reassure her was strong, but I tempered it. Perhaps Feyanna needed a dose of reality to wake up to the surrounding circumstances. If she traveled back to the Northern Realm with us, Viana wouldn't have any more patience with her than Eve did.

A smile curled at the corner of my lip at the thought of the two most formidable women in my life sizing up Feyanna.

"This is as good a place as any to camp," Eve proclaimed, setting down her things and sitting down for a moment, wiping her hair off her brow.

I inhaled the thick scent of pines, similar yet not identical to the ones back home. If I closed my eyes, I could half-convince myself we were in the woods just off the palace.

And not in this strange, unfamiliar world.

Eve's brow wrinkled. "Heavy tree coverage, shielded from prying eyes, ground is pretty dry, so smoke from a fire will be nearly nonexistent. What is visible will soon become covered by darkness."

I blinked, then realized she wasn't talking to me or anyone other than herself.

"Do we have what we need for a fire?" I asked instead. Eve had grabbed food before we left, but I didn't recall her taking much else in the way of tools.

"Grab some kindling, and we'll find out," she replied gruffly, already picking up a few rocks and making a small stone ring on a flat bit of dirt.

"What is it? What did she say?" Feyanna asked, turning to me with those bright, golden eyes.

"We are camping down here for the night. Help me gather kindling?"

Feyanna ducked her head and dogged my steps as we gathered. She stuck to small sticks and bits of bark, and I picked out a few sturdier branches for when the flames got going.

We circled back around and deposited it all in front of Eve, who sat on the ground with her dirty dress pooled around her, hair hanging in her eyes and a look of grim determination on her face. Repeatedly, she struck flint against rock, getting visibly more frustrated as sparks flew, but failed to catch.

Feyanna turned toward me and opened her mouth, but I held up a hand to stop her. I didn't want to ruin Eve's concentration.

"E-Ellis, why don't—"

"Ssh," I interrupted Feyanna, whose eyes sparked oddly before her chin went to her chest in defeat.

"Stupid thing. I never was any good at it. Gregory could do it like that," Eve snapped her fingers together, letting the flint and stone fall to the ground. Her lip quivered once before she reined it in. She hadn't mentioned Gregory, her old suitor, in ages. I'd almost forgotten he'd existed—almost.

"You're doing amazing," I offered, pulling her against my chest. "You have always done amazing."

Her eyes closed as she relaxed against me. Feyanna sat down next to us, but I ignored her. "You got me out of the palace. You kept your head through everything, and not only survived, but helped me survive. You helped many of us survive."

Feyanna leaned toward us, mouth opening again. I shot her a glare, and for the first time since I'd known her, her nostrils flared with irritation. She grabbed my shoulder.

Before I could protest, I felt it transfer from Feyanna to me: just the smallest kernel, but that was all I needed. It was what she was trying to tell me.

Magick.

Heat flushed my face as Feyanna pulled back, a smug expression only flitting across her face for a moment before it resumed its usual timid look.

"Uh, Eve. I'm sorry. I'm a dunderhead."

She snorted and looked up at me, a sharp quip no doubt already on her tongue by the glint in her eyes.

Rather than hear it, I held my hand out over the fire, hoping I wasn't about to burn it all down.

Cries and screams rang all around me. A little girl cried, wanting her mother. Everything was heat and flames and raging inferno, and I didn't care. I was too angry. I was too indignant.

And then … nothing.

Just ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.

And Eve's horrified, shocked face, covered in soot, as she stood in the ruins of what had just been a thriving tavern moments ago.

My hand shook.

Eve's gaze shot to mine, a flicker of fear present.

She was afraid of my magick.

Understandable.

Maybe it would be best if I lost control and burned it all down. No more slaves, no more rebels, no more anything. Just sweet release and oblivion.

I needed a drink. No. No.

A hand grabbed my wrist and squeezed, jerking me out of my existential crisis. She nodded at me, her hand warm against the cold settling in my bones.

Eve.

With me against all odds—believing in me and championing me when no one else had.

Magick swelled in my chest, pushing down on my lungs and squeezing my throat until my breaths came in short, frantic bursts.

A second hand grabbed my other wrist, cool but confident. Some of the pressure in my chest eased, the magick siphoned just enough that I could think.

Feyanna.

"You are its master. The moment you believe yourself to be overcome, you are. Control it."

I let out a shaky breath, and for the first time in my life, decided I was in control.