9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I t takes three whole days to hike to the nearest town and just as long for the bit of awkwardness to dissipate between us. I'm finally able to look at him again without fear of jamming my every thought into his head, although I'm still not entirely sure how I would do it again if I wanted to.

We stop about two or three miles outside the nearby city and rest near a watering hole. Eoin pulls out one of our maps and points. "I believe this city is Reginald Bluff. We can resupply here, and then we just have to travel through this forest before," he jabs his finger at the map, "we arrive at Helios Court right on time."

I fill up our water skins while he studies the map further. "Do you think there are any vampires here?" I ask. The longer we've been in the fae realm, the more the joke has worn off, and I begin to feel uneasy at the thought of blood-sucking predatory creatures.

"Not likely." He points toward the legend on the map. "Areas with Dagr fae are indicated with these sun markings." He points to several courts on the map. "This tomb marking is for vampire areas." He circles an area of the map with his finger. "Most of them are way up north."

"Quick: Where could you hit a forward-facing attacker to slow them down?" Eoin folds up the map and quizzes me.

"The jaw is preferable, but a hit to the nose will make the eyes water." I toss Eoin his water skin, and he nods.

He takes a swig and re-caps it. "Don't forget, kidney punches hurt like hell." He gestures to the side of his back. "And all rules and etiquette go out the window if you're fighting for your life. Go for the eyes, neck, or balls." He gestures to all three.

"I get that. When will you start teaching me the mysterious fighting ways of your people?" He scoffs. "Once you can land a punch when I'm not holding back." He raises both brows at me and shoulders his pack.

We march toward the distant, wavering silhouette of a city, warped and distorted by the dry heat of the day. As we get closer to the city gates, it hits me—this will be my first real fae experience. My palms sweat, a clear indication of my nervous excitement.

"Get your travel papers ready," Eoin says to me with a serious look on his face. "And stop looking so damn suspicious. You look like you've had too much poppy flower."

I stop in my tracks. "What if there's someone like me there?"

"There's probably many people like you there." He flicks my ear and urges me on. I swat at him. I hate when he does that. "We'll see a lot of fae, but if you're hoping to find another siren, I wouldn't get your hopes up."

"Life would be so much easier if I were a Dagr fae and could simply regenerate from the sun." I sigh.

"Easy is boring. You were made for far more exciting things than laying around in the sun all day." Eoin smiles with his eyes, and a warmth grows in my chest.

We make it to the gates, and our travel papers are inspected. "No long swords inside the city limits," the tallest guard with long black hair says to Eoin. "You can check it here. If you plan on leaving through the East gate, we can have someone cart it down."

Eoin checks his long sword and pays the guard ten copper coins to have it carted to the East Gate. We pass through, and I get my first unimpeded view of the city and its citizens.

The streets are paved with sandy brown bricks. Stucco-style shops line the streets, and three- to four-story homes are built on top of them—each one with a balcony. Some have colorful tapestries decorating the walls, and others have exotic foliage in bright ceramic pots. The people here wear light, airy clothes, some made out of thin breathable fibers and others vibrant silks.

I'm not sure what I was picturing, but this is better. There is so much life and color, and many of the shop roofs are made of stained glass. The fae that pass us carry a confident, regal essence. Their ears are pointy, but not as long as the fae male we encountered in Ankaran.

"I've caught more than one dialect so far," Eoin says, herding me through the busiest street. "But it seems like many of them speak the common tongue."

"Good." My eyes dart from fae to fae, wondering if any of them are secretly like me. However, most seem to ignore us entirely.

We round a corner, and my jaw drops. Before us stands the largest, most intricate cathedral I've ever seen. I don't know how anyone could make something so beautiful and symmetrical at this scale. Large spires point toward the clear blue sky, and stained-glass windows of epic proportions adorn the walls. The remains of four statues line the pathway.

"I wonder who those statues were."

"Most likely Maris, Alita, Decidi and Vesper." Eoin points to the four crumbling bases, and we notice three Crusaders exiting the cathedral. I grip his arm.

I guess that answers one question. Helios Court is aligned with the Prophet.

"Here." Eoin hands me one of our dwindling coin purses and points two shops down. "Go restock some of our food and supplies. I'll take what's left and see about horses and meet you back here."

A bell chimes as I enter the shop, and a man behind the counter greets me. The stained glass window above bathes the room in a glow of colorful light. If I didn't know better, I'd think I stepped into a dream.

After purchasing bread, dried meats, and a small fishing net, I return to the busy street. A lightness fills me, expanding.

I pay a girl to braid my hair, relishing the breeze on my neck. This should hold up well the last few days on the road. Finding my way back to our meetup spot, I pass a boy pulling a wagon.

"Fresh from the presses!" the boy shouts through the streets as he walks. "Get today's news, current maps, and the newest gossip. Fresh from the presses!"

"How much for the news?"

"Two coppers for news and gossip, one for maps." He scratches the hair near his pointy ear.

I hand him two coppers and pick up a paper, noticing something strange. I dig out another coin. "I'll take a map, too."

He hands me the map and continues on his way. I'll have to look at this with Eoin's map because something isn't right.

"We could get a room for the night if you want. We have enough coin left." I jump as Eoin slips up beside me, leading two older-looking horses.

My chest tightens as I remember my embarrassing mistake three mornings ago. I'm still unsure how to push my thoughts or emotions at him, and sleeping in an actual room together feels risky.

"I think we should keep going," I say, taking the reins of the nearest horse. "We can make up more time."

We head towards the East gate, catching jovial conversations about the upcoming wedding as well as hushed murmurings of something dark happening across the courts.

". . . ripped him to shreds. They barely got him back to the healer in time. He still hasn't spoken," an elderly fae tells her friend.

Eoin catches my gaze, and the muscles in his jaw tick. "We will be fine." He collects his long sword from the East Gate guard and straps it to his hip.

We leave the city behind and head toward Helios Castle, stopping near the edge of Black Hills Forest. We notice several signs posted on sporadic trees near trail openings. Eoin pulls one from the nearest tree and reads it aloud. "Warning: frygt have been spotted in this forest. Enter and risk bodily harm, loss of sanity, death, and or capture." He tosses the sign. "Well, that sounds ominous."

"The frygt?" I ask. "I was hoping they were just in stories. Do you think that creature in the prairie was a frygt?"

"I'm not sure," Eoin says. "If the stories are true, they feast on fear. Do you think they pull magic straight from the air like you do?"

"I don't know." I scan our surroundings as the distinct feeling of dread builds in my stomach. More and more of the stories we've been told are coming to life. "I really don't want to find out."

"Let's set up camp here. I know it's a bit early, but I'd rather tackle this forest with more daylight." Eoin hops off his horse.

We spend a good deal of time training for the first time in days. My body has had time to rebuild my broken-down muscles, and my stiff soreness is long gone. I've developed some muscle memory with sword fighting, and it's something I look forward to each day. I can see why Eoin spends hours every day at the barracks helping the soldiers train. We work a bit on my dagger tossing as well as evasive maneuvers. I'm thoroughly exhausted by the time we call it quits for the night.

Eoin pulls his horse's reins, urging it to lie down. He pulls out Fae: Friend or Foe? and leans his back against his horse's back, flipping through a few pages. Pages rustle periodically as I stretch my muscles and ultimately lie flat on my back, exhaustion taking hold of me.

"It says here Dagr fae have a well that cannot expand." Eoin's voice startles me out of the peaceful place between wake and sleep.

"Whatever size they're born with is how much magic they can hold each day. Sirens and Fjende can expand their well over time, allowing them to store magic and go longer periods of time without regenerating."

"You're reading farther than I've gotten." I close my eyes again and rest my head on my interlaced fingers.

"I can read it aloud."

The corners of my mouth tick up as he shifts, moving closer to me.

"The great awakening occurs when magic first presents in a fae. From then, the fae's powers will develop over the course of two years, coming in waves until all gifts are established. Most fae will present one or two gifts, while those with royal bloodlines will present three to five. These gifts are genetic, running through the blood, and must be regenerated." Paper rustles as Eoin turns another page.

"See, I'm probably about done then." My words are muffled and drawn out as I stifle a yawn.

"The great awakening can be extremely disturbing to the individual as power initially floods their system. For most, it can be painful, scary, and exhilarating, but only lasts a moment. During this surge, all diseases and wounds are healed, including old scars, and for females, even the hymen is reformed."

The book snaps shut, and my eyes fly open. This has to be at least half true, as all my scars are fairly new, from when I was still learning how to use my healing gift. I haven't been with anyone recently enough to tell if the rest is true. I better not have to go through that twice.

***

We trek through dense forest for four days with our heads on a swivel. We've yet to see a single fae or frygt, and the warning of the sign grows less ominous with each uneventful sleep. As we get closer to the castle grounds, the road opens, and we are able to pick up pace. We also spot the tell-tale signs of other travelers: old campfires, freshly cleared shrubs, and one small stuffed toy bear. Eoin's horse occasionally gives him fits, which I find much more humorous than he does. It seems to be afraid of just about every snake-like stick we come across.

"Bad Chester!" Eoin reins him in and forces his horse to make a few tight circles. This seems to be enough to refocus him and reestablish who is in charge. "I would have paid half as much for you if I knew I was going to have to break all your bad habits myself." He pats Chester's shiny black neck before making a couple tisking sounds, urging him into a walk. I can almost sense my horse, Penny, rolling her eyes at Chester.

Eoin stops in a clearing and dismounts. "What do you say? Should we set up camp early tonight and relax? This should be our last night on the road before we reach the castle."

"Yes!" I practically jump off Penny, startling Chester and making him dance around again.

I tie up our horses and set up our canvas tent while Eoin retrieves some firewood. I've just finished untacking the horses when Eoin returns with an armful of dry wood. He tosses it in a pile and stands abruptly. I hear it, too; approaching riders.

Eoin grabs his long sword, and I grip the dagger strapped to my thigh. Just then, the loud, unmistakable sound of children laughing cuts through the air. I can't help but smile. Eoin relaxes slightly but doesn't remove his hand from the hilt of his sword.

Two young girls break into view, laughing and sword-fighting with sticks. Their mother and father ride shortly behind, driving a wooden carriage with painted flowers along the sides. Their father dismounts when he sees Eoin still has his hand on his sword. He approaches us with both palms raised in a gesture of peace, but I don't know what language he is speaking.

He continues to approach, talking straight at Eoin with increased agitation in his tone. My heart wrenches when I notice the two girls cowering behind their mother.

"Wait!" I yell, raising my hands, mirroring the father. "It's just a family. Please, Eoin." I look at him, pleading with my eyes.

The older of the two girls approaches her father and says something and he nods to her. "We mean you no harm," she says while still tucked slightly behind her father. "My father doesn't know the common tongue. He says we mean you no harm."

Eoin releases his grip on his sword, and the tension in the air dissipates. The father smiles at his daughter and pats her on the head.

I crouch down to eye level with the girl. "We apologize. We are a bit jumpy with all the talk we heard about the creatures in the woods, and we've never been here before." She translates our message and then asks us where we are heading.

"Helios Castle. We have work to do for the wedding."

"Us too!" She responds immediately with a big grin, revealing two missing front teeth. "It is my first time at the castle as well." She exchanges some words with her father before turning to me.

"He wants me to tell you there is a small creek that way if you need fish for dinner." She points behind our campsite. Eoin offers to let them share our campsite and they politely decline. "He says we have a couple more hours of riding before dark." Her father picks her up and carries her toward the back of the carriage. "We may see you again at the castle. Safe travels!" she yells over his shoulder.

"Fish sounds amazing," I say to Eoin. "I'm so tired of rabbit."

"My mouth is already watering." He collects our small net, and we rig up a trap in a bend of the stream.

"I'm excited to meet more fae. Maybe I'll be able to ask some questions and learn a little more about myself." I pluck some wild rosehips and berries as we wait by the creek.

"You can't tell them what you are." The vertical lines between his brows appear.

"I know that." I shoot him an annoyed glance. He's told me this already. "I'm going to pretend to be one of the Dagr fae." He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head. I know that look. He doesn't think it's a good idea for me to talk to anyone about my magic, but he keeps his mouth shut.

"Oh, I forgot!" I shove my hand into my hip pouch. "I collected these back by that prairie near Feng Forest." I hold out a dozen tiny dried mushrooms, and Eoin laughs. "I suppose tonight would be a great night for that."

Our net dips further into the water, followed by frenzied splashing. Eoin's face lights up before he jumps down to the bank and snatches it up. Two large silver and black striped fish flop furiously within the net as Eoin holds it above his head, letting out a triumphant yell.

We return to our campsite and have what feels like a gourmet meal of fresh fish, rosehips, and wild berries. After we finish, we split the tiny mushrooms. Eoin has never tried them before; we both have our favorites, and this one is mine.

The sun sets, and it doesn't take long for the effects to kick in. I live for this deeply connected feeling. I tip my head back and peer through the opening in our canopy at the first few twinkling stars, then at the trees and the grass. Everything feels linked and I feel so powerful and so small at the same time. Eoin looks at me with a peaceful grin on his face. "Is it always like this?"

I nod, brushing my fingers through the grass. I feel every cool, damp blade slide between my fingers, tickling my palms. I hear every cricket calling for a mate.

"I see why it's your favorite," he says, firelight flickering across his face. An owl hoots nearby, and for the first time since the prairie beast, I feel complete peace. "I feel this. . ." he searches for the right words. "I'm unsure, like this soft buzzing from the earth coming up through me."

"Mmm hmmm." I nod. "How about this?" I reach out and place my hand on top of his. His eyes widen, and I giggle at him.

"It goes through us both," he whispers.

"Yes, and all around—up your arm through me and back into the earth. That's how I feel it, anyway. The woman I purchased them from one time in Ravton said the buzzing you feel is the magic left by the old gods. The same magic that powers the runes." Eoin's eyes dip to my lips, and I pull my hand back, realizing it's the first time I've really touched him since the tent incident. My heart sinks slightly as a flash of sadness crosses his eyes.

"Can you fill your well with it?" he asks curiously.

I shake my head, wishing I could. It would make life so much easier.

"You should practice that new skill of yours. It could come in handy. I bet there's more to it, sort of like how your healing powers have manifested in stages."

"Right now?" I ask.

He chuckles. "No, and maybe not even with me—or actually maybe with me. That could be fun."

I laugh and shake my head at him.

He places his hand on top of mine, mirroring my earlier gesture. "You're still my best friend," he says sincerely before pulling me into his chest. I give him a little side squeeze and settle into his warm, familiar arms.

"Now, what I really want to do is try these again sometime while I am using rune magic or etching the runes." The subtle vibrations of Eoin's voice rumble against the side of my head as I melt into him. "I'm curious when the magic actually starts to move through them. Is it when I activate it with a phrase or when I make the god mark?"

"The god mark?"

"One of the runes I etch with each grouping coordinates with a specific deity. The mark dictates which deity's magic will be used to power the gate or object. You have to use certain ones for certain functions, or it could go horribly wrong."

"Do you use all of the deities?" I fight a yawn, his warm embrace and the familiar cadence of his voice bringing me to a place of true peace and relaxation.

"All but Maris, Alita and Anwir." He shifts, finding a more comfortable position and I turn with him, not wanting to lose this feeling. He grips my forearm and methodically brushes his thumb back and forth across my flesh. "Maris and Alita aren't sleeping, so we can't pull magic from them. Which is probably a good thing, given they reign over war and death."

"What about Anwir?"

"I don't suppose anyone wants the god of chaos and trickery to be associated with any rune magic. That sounds like a recipe for disaster."

"Or he's not sleeping." The thought gives me a chill. Maris was trapped ages ago and Alita is said to be somewhat trapped as well, not nearly as powerful as she once was.

But what about Anwir? The thought of a god walking among us today, even a minor one like him, could be disastrous.

Eoin squeezes me and strokes my hair. "The fae have records dating back to when they put the gods to sleep. They say only Maris and Alita remain awake."

My head rests under his chin, and for a while, we just stare at the fire in silence, enjoying that connected buzzing feeling.