13. Keira

Chapter 13

Keira

I sit in a nook between the tall roots of the trees that hold the village, next to the barrier of the shimmering ward. Shadows swim around me and keep me apart from the fae. I hope they forget me, even for an hour.

The warriors sit around the bonfire, eating and drinking for another night. Aldrin reclines with his people, and snippets of their conversation float to me, contemplating whether they send a messenger to Cyprien or to plan an ambush on his forces. The conversation goes around and around in circles.

I need to escape here. To infiltrate the other fae camp and free Caitlin before Aldrin makes his move, so we can be far away from these parts when their two forces clash and we have double the number of fae captors to contend with.

I grip my satchel so tight my knuckles turn white and my fingers ache. It’s packed full with flatbreads and a canteen of water. The ward ripples beside me. My entire plan depends on being able to trick the magic here and pass through it.

On the far side of the camp, the next sentry approaches the ward. My heart pounds against my ribcage as I scramble to my feet. I don’t know what kind of magic he uses to peel it open, but I hope it makes the entire barrier penetrable in that moment. That as the sentries swap shifts and exchange a few words, they won’t notice a small human slipping away.

I am relying on it.

The sentry puts a foot through the ward, making the entire thing vibrate and distort, and I plunge through it. Part of me expects to hit a solid wall, but I pass with a complete lack of resistance from the magical barrier.

My mind roars with anticipation of discovery, every sense heightened, as the calm voices of the guards float to me. I spare them a single glance as they change shifts, then make for the thick forest cover nearby.

Every slight crunch of twigs under my careful footfalls makes me cringe. My instincts scream at me to run, but I can’t draw attention to myself. I jolt at every sound, mistaking the breeze moving branches to be a sentry coming for me. The cries of animals to be the raising of the alarm.

I creep with painstaking caution through the shadows from the camp to the thick woods, darting between trunks or stones, and constantly checking the position of the sentries to ensure they won’t notice my movement.

Minutes last a lifetime, and though I have mastered the patience of a huntress, I have never been the prey.

I reach the dense foliage of the ancient woods, out of earshot and sight of the sentries, and I run like the wild hunt itself is on my tail. I thrust out my wind magic to ruffle behind me to the tracks I leave.

Branches whip by, and I duck and leap as I move to avoid their lashing needles. My chest heaves and my muscles burn with the exertion, and still I don’t stop running. The fear that rushes through me chases away all thought but the need to escape. To be free.

The darkness of the night is so thick I stumble and trip, landing face first in the leaf litter and mud, throwing out my hands to catch myself at the last moment. I am forced to light an orb to illuminate my way, or slow my pace right down. I choose the orb, uncaring of what I might disturb .

The landscape all looks the same to me, and I don’t know if I have been running for minutes or hours. All I can hear is my heavy breaths, the swishing of foliage and my boots hitting the ground. I pray to the gods that there are no predators nearby.

The pull of the moonstone bracelet becomes stronger as I move in the right direction.

I could be at the portal before Aldrin knows I have left his little war party. I hope he has too much to drink and stumbles to bed half blind. That he wakes up in the morning bleary-eyed, and doesn’t notice until noon his pet, his intended plaything, has disappeared. Maybe he’ll be too hungover to think I am worth the effort of a chase.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem the type.

Fatigue builds in my muscles until pain laces through them and I can hardly breathe. I stop and brace my arms on my knees, almost doubled over, and pant.

The space between trees has widened, and the underbrush is minimal. This is probably the way we fled from the battlefield, not that I could think straight ?strapped to the back of that insane kelpie.

I jog at a steady pace. When I get home, I am going to kiss Gwyneth for all the endurance training she drilled into me.

Two moons hang in the sky above me, one full and the other waning, casting the world in shades of indigo and deep green. Tree trunks resolve out of the gloom as shadowy pillars covered in spongy moss, and their girth could almost be mistaken for the silhouette of a man, if not for the broad branches heavily ladened with foliage. My pace quickens to a run as I regain some of my energy.

That portal is enticingly close now, maybe a third of the distance I have already covered.

A chittering sound rushes above me from those branch tops. It turns my blood to ice. I stop and swivel, looking for the source, but see nothing. It’s the wind. Nothing to be afraid of.

But I know that sound.

I flee with all the power I have left.

Pairs of glowing emerald lights blink at me from the darkness, then disappear. The short blades at my belt are in my hands in an instant, and I grasp my magic at the ready. I will not be undone by wild beasts, not when I have come this far.

I skid to a stop as a huge Cú Sídhe lands a handful of paces in front of me. The beast is majestic, with rippling mossy fur and vines trailing away from a skeletal face that is stark white in the dark night. It snarls, saliva dripping from sharp fangs.

Another runs along the branches above my head, chittering again. A scratching in the canopy on the opposite side alerts me to a third beast. The Cú Sídhe in front of me howls, then snaps its jaw, feigning an attack toward me, then curving away.

I know this game. They hunt in a pack.

Both Cú Sídhe in the trees lunge down at me, their graceful bodies outstretched as they arch through the air with those huge, clawed paws aimed at me. I throw out my arms, a hand pointed at each creature, and thrust blades propelled by air magic into their chests. Each Cú Sídhe flies away from me, curled up and spinning through the air, until their backs strike tree trunks.

I am left shaking by the sheer amount of magic I burnt through, but my fight isn’t done yet.

The beasts slide to the ground, shake their heads, then slowly approach me. In my realm, such a blow would have killed them, but the fae are so much more powerful in their own lands. My blades were too short to do enough damage. If I had a bow and quiver full of arrows, all three would be dead by now.

The third leaps to the ground, and they surround me on all sides

The Cú Sídhe circle around me slowly, yowling and toying with me. I form a lasso of air around each of their throats, then pull it taut. The beasts whip backward by the neck and claw desperately at my tether of magic, scratching rents into their own flesh. They gasp and pant for air that isn’t coming.

My heart breaks at the sound, at the brutality of what I have to do. Silent tears run down my face. I don’t want them to die, but I need to live.

A blast of magic smashes into my chest. Air propels me up and over. The entire world tips on its side and the ground rushes up to hit my face. I instinctually drop my grip on my attack and use my magic to catch my fall instead. To my surprise, I land on a soft bed of moss that I swear wasn’t there a moment ago.

I am going to die.

Those Cú Sídhe will rip me apart the second they escape. But the attack doesn’t come.

A narrow stream of fireballs erupt above my head, right through where I had been standing. The high-pitched yelps of the Cú Sídhe pierce the night, so close and loud, I clamp my hands down over my ears. The ground vibrates with the galloping of their retreat.

The expected scent of burnt fur or foliage is absent. The beasts don’t wail in pain, so they aren’t injured. I have no idea what happened.

I roll over then freeze as Aldrin stands over me.

I collapse my head back onto the moss. The fight flees from my body as bitter disappointment floods me.

I am slowly lifted to my feet, not by his arms, but by the roots of the trees surrounding us.

A dozen tendrils of them smoothly wrap around my body, until I am completely bound by him again, arms pinned to my side. I try to pull free and fail. I could try destroying them, but I would probably pass out.

I glare at Aldrin. A distance behind him, a few other high fae wait in the shadows, but they are too far away for me to make out their faces.

“I had this!” I growl at him. “Don’t think you have come in as a big hero and saved me!”

I never wanted to see him again.

“Saved you?” Aldrin barks a harsh laugh. “Keira, I saved them .” He points in the direction the Cú Sídhe fled in. “There was no need for you to kill such healthy creatures. Not when this world is dying because there aren’t enough fae in it. A simple fireball scares off Cú Sídhe. If you don’t know something as basic as that, you shouldn’t be running off into the night in these lands. ”

I glare hatred at him. At the injustice of those words, when I was fighting for my life.

“This is typical of humans, to kill a fae needlessly.” He dares to throw at me.

“You are the one who has taken me as your slave. You have taken away my freedom, and you dare to chastise me for defending myself? Those Cú Sídhe tried to take me as a meal. I did not hunt them!” I spit venom at him, but I don’t show how close I am to breaking. My whole body trembles from absolute terror.

Aldrin’s entire face falls, and the roots of my bindings slacken around me. “You are not a slave. You never were.” His voice breaks.

“Your prisoner then. What is the difference?” I laugh bitterly.

“You are not my prisoner.” He takes a few steps to close the distance between us, then falters.

“What do you mean? You had me carried away from that battle against my will. You held me in your camp with the ward and kept me up in that tower so I couldn’t escape.”

“No,” Aldrin says, eyes wide. “We rescued you, healed your wounds, and gave you food and shelter. We allowed you to roam freely in our camp. Gods, the ward is an illusion spell to keep us hidden, not a barrier. I even offered to help rescue your sister.”

“You offered me a bargain!” I yell. “I know nothing about you, Aldrin, but you hold me against my will and expect me to feed you information about my realm. Why would I trust you? Betray my people to you? For all I know, you were one of the fae lords who lived in my realm and took our lands before the portals were closed.”

I am hyperventilating. My chest heaves against my loose bonds and it is all I can do to stop myself from shattering into a million pieces and crying in front of this cruel fae man.

“I wasn’t even alive back then,” he says slowly, deflated. “Few fae are left who lived in your lands during the Dividing War.”

I blink at him. “I thought high fae were immortal.”

Aldrin raises an eyebrow at me. “Do you really think it is possible for anyone to be immortal? Our time moves slower here. If a fae visited the human realm every twenty-five of our years, almost a human lifetime would have passed in your realm. That’s how your myth started. True we live a lot longer than humans, but no one is immortal. I think a lot of what you know about fae are myths, distortions, and pure fabrications created by the humans who closed the portals and needed to justify their actions in your histories.”

Confusion rolls through me, chased by bone-deep fatigue. I am so sick of his games. I can’t tell the lies from the truth anymore. Maybe my assumptions and prejudice created my own prison. Maybe not. The moment I escaped; he chased me down. A cage without bars is still a cage.

“I am not your prisoner?” I waver.

“No. You never were.” A deep sadness rolls over him as he looks at me.

I don’t believe him. The events of the last two days rearrange themselves within my head and I see it, exactly how this man can rationalize to himself that he hasn’t taken a human slave.

Maybe he believes he is better than other high fae, that he won’t force his will on a human girl, but he is holding what is not his to keep.

We are dancing in the grey space between captive and companion.