“We needed to be ready for every circumstance,” Bekind said. “I’ve been preparing for this for a long time.”
“How could you have known?” I asked sharply.
Bekind turned back into a cat and wandered over to the bed.
“Typical,” Realtín said. She rested on my shoulder. “But you really need to stop wandering off. First with Sorcha, now this.”
“I did not wander off with Sorcha. I was heading back to camp when the pixies pushed me off track, and Sorcha found me in the woods.” I frowned. “At first, she just wanted me to go, then all of a sudden, she freaked out and decided to kill me. She started mumbling about power and sacrifices. It’s like she knew something I didn’t, but it only occurred to her right in that second.” I shrugged. “Or else she’s just crazy.”
“She was jealous,” Realtín said. “She thought she could have it all.”
“But she could have,” I said. “It was over. I never had anything she wanted, and I would have been sent home. I was nothing to her. I don’t know what she was worried about.”
“She was angry,” Grim said, “and frustrated.”
“I think Brendan made promises to her.” I took a sip of tea. “But he was different when he came back. I don’t… I don’t think all of it was Drake.”
“Not all,” Grim said hesitantly. “But that was before he had his power back. He would have changed again if he had reached the coronation.”
“You could have stayed with Drake,” Realtín whispered.
I shook my head. “He told you to bring me home. Besides, he wasn’t what I thought he was. He wasn’t there when I needed him, wasn’t there when I almost died. Brendan was, though. And Drake knew who his father was. All along, he knew it was Deorad, and he said nothing. What else did he hide?”
“Maybe he had his reasons,” Grim said softly.
“Somehow, I don’t think he’s willing to share much with anyone,” I said bitterly. “I thought… I don’t know what I thought, but none of this feels over. And whatever happens, Brendan saved my life more than once. He’s changed my life. And he’s stuck in the Fade so that I can live. That’s not fair. I owe him more than going home and forgetting him. And when the fae find out the truth, they’ll turn on Drake. If Brendan returned, he wouldn’t let that happen. He told me once that he respected Drake, liked him even.”
“Men don’t remain unchanged when they taste power,” Grim said.
“Then that includes Drake.” I stared at the fire. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“I would remember the things that made you happy,” Grim said. “The rest of it can wait until you know more.”
“If I ever do.”
I finished my tea, and we all settled down to sleep again. Dubh joined us, plonking his big horse body next to me and swishing his mane over my face. I brushed it away, but I had to admit that I felt safer with my companions surrounding me.
Chapter Three
The next day, I ached all over. I hobbled around camp until my muscles started to loosen up a little.
“You look ridiculous,” Realtín said. “It’s like you’re carrying something between your legs.”
“Don’t even,” I snapped. “This is sore as fuck. Everyone’s always all, ‘Oh, horse riding wins.’ Nobody tells you about the pain.”
My distress made her laugh all the more.
“You’ll get used to it,” Bekind said sharply. She had been in a bad mood since we woke.
“Thanks,” I said. “That’s always helpful.”
“We don’t have time for whining,” she replied, avoiding my eyes. “We need to move on before anyone changes their minds.”
“I’m not going to change my mind,” I said. “What’s with you today?”
She shrugged. “We all have plenty to fear here, Cara. Not just you.”
I helped Grim pack to avoid drowning in Bekind’s melancholy. “What do you think of her?” I asked him.
“I think she carries many secrets,” he murmured. “Beware. Always.”
When it came time to leave, I refused to get on Dubh’s back.
“He needs a break from me,” I hedged. “And I need to run.”
Bekind frowned. “You’ll be exhausted.”
“And thus too tired to bitch and moan when I finally have to get back on that horse. I’m sore. I need to stretch my legs properly.”
“Fine,” she said. “But if you slow us down too much…”
Back on the dirt path, I tied the robe around my waist to keep it from tripping me. I gave the riding boots to Grim and ran in my bare feet. The dusty earth was warm and even. Stretching helped the aching in my thighs. After warming up a little, I raced away from the others. Dubh galloped up behind me then eased into a laidback trot. Bekind disappeared.
“Come on, Dubh.” I reached out and tugged his plaited mane. “Race me.”
He shook his head, his amber eyes glowing. Then he galloped off, leaving me in the dust. Laughing, I raced after him until he took pity on me and slowed. In my head, I imagined my running playlist was blaring. Except I had given my MP3 player to Brendan, and the memory of that day left a hollow space in my chest. Things had already started changing then, growing more and more confusing until I wasn’t sure what I remembered of Brendan, and what of Drake.
Dubh gripped my hood in his teeth and yanked me off the path, disturbing my reverie.
I struggled to free myself. “What the hell?”
Bekind came racing back, yowling a warning.
“Someone’s coming,” Grim said.
We rushed deeper into the forest, as fast as we dared without making too much noise. A few feet in, Dubh lay down abruptly. We hid behind him and peered through the gaps in the trees to see what was coming. My heart pounded. I imagined Sadler’s guards plunging in after us, or worse, Drake sending Arlen to stop us. But would Arlen listen to him? He had been Brendan’s bodyguard, after all.
The noise grew louder, and a dust cloud built on the path. Four large carriages that reminded me of the pumpkin transformed in Cinderella travelled in a line, coming from the direction we had been heading. Flags flapped around the wheels. They moved slowly, so they weren’t chasing us.
“Green flags,” Grim whispered. “Green for Brendan.”
A cheer sounded from within one of the carriages. One of the doors opened, and a person tumbled out and rolled along the dust path. He got to his feet and ran to one of the other carriages. When he reached it, he gripped the door, flipped, and landed inside. Laughter filled the air, and someone began to sing. As the carriages rolled out of sight, multiple voices had joined in the song.
“What was that about?” I whispered.
“Celebrations,” Realtín said. “They’re on their way to pledge fealty to Brendan.”
“So nobody knows about Drake yet?”
“Or the word hasn’t travelled yet,” Grim said.
“What will they do to him when they find out?”
Grim hesitated. “He’s related to Sadler. He has royal blood in his veins. That will help him.”
I looked at him. “But?”
“But they’re just as likely to turn on him. Drake won’t let it get that far, Cara. He’s a survivor. Stop worrying about him. You’re in far more danger than he is. Remember, if he’s already crowned, then he has power that nobody else alive has. The title alone gives a certain amount of respect.”
Dubh rose to his feet, followed by Bekind. The cat jumped up a tree and travelled across the branches. Grim sat atop Dubh while I walked beside them, enduring Realtín shoving twigs down the back of my shirt at every opportunity.
“We need to avoid the road for a time,” Grim said. “It’s slower through the trees, but it’s likely safer for now.”
“I wish I had a map,” I said. “So I could understand where we’re going.”
“We’re going to places no human should visit,” Grim said. “Nobody would think less of you if you decided to return to your human life instead
of taking on this journey, Cara. We’ll likely die before the end.”
“What if we don’t?” I asked. “And what if Drake needs help controlling the courts? What if he needs help with Sadler? When Sadler finds out Drake is in charge, he might try to steal the crown. He might cause a war.”
“And what if Brendan was never meant to return?” Grim asked softly. “What if it is his fate to remain in the Fade?”
“I don’t believe in fate.”
Dubh and Bekind led us through the forest on foot for the rest of the day. The going was tediously slow, but more carriages passed on the road, so it was safer to stay hidden amongst the trees.
“What kind of fae are planning on pleading fealty to Brendan?” I asked. “Can you tell by looking?”
“All kinds,” Grim said in a low voice. “Plenty we don’t want anything to do with.”
“We could just gallop past them.”
Everyone ignored me. We couldn’t afford to be seen. I knew that, but the journey was frustrating.
Two horses trotted down the road. A young couple laughed and whispered to each other as they passed our hiding place. I shifted uncomfortably and managed to snap a twig. The woman looked in our direction, pulling up her horse.
“Did you hear that?” she asked her companion. “There’s somebody there.”
He peered through the trees, looking concerned. “It’s probably nothing.”
“But—”
“I’ll deal with whatever comes.” He cleared his throat and shouted, “We’re not travelling alone! Our group is less than half a mile behind us. Her father is a great warrior, and we’re not afraid to stand our ground.”
We stayed still, and they continued on their way.
I exhaled the breath I’d been holding. “Sorry. I didn’t think.”
Bekind made a growling sound.
“I said sorry,” I whispered.
Grim pressed my arm to shush me. Apparently, the young couple hadn’t lied. The largest party yet approached. Many single horse riders surrounded two extravagant carriages with a coat of arms painted on them. Grim inhaled sharply. The party passed without stopping, but I felt faint at the sight of the warriors on horseback.
“The warrior within those carriages once swore fealty to the Unseelie queen,” Grim said. “His lust for blood was unparalleled. We’re lucky he wasn’t hunting along the way.”
“There were no green flags this time,” I whispered.
“Then he hasn’t decided yet,” Grim said.
“But he’s making the journey with his family,” Realtín said. “What does that mean?”
Grim lifted his shoulders. “Either he’s presenting a challenge or he wishes to be persuaded. Deals will be made to avoid a war with his entire clan. I hope Drake knows what he’s doing.”
“And if he doesn’t?” I asked.
“Then we could enter a war of the ages. We should press on. We’re losing ground.”
Dubh rose to his feet and followed Bekind through the trees. Realtín sat on the horse’s back, clinging to his mane as she burned red and gold. Grim and I followed in silence. I felt as though we had survived a close call, but our journey hadn’t even started yet. I hoped I knew what I was doing, never mind Drake.
“You’re right to worry,” Grim said under his breath. “For us or for him.”
I glanced at him. “Who? Drake?”
“Whatever he does now sets the stage for years to come. If he’s clever, he’ll assign a wise advisor to stand by his side.”
“Is that what Sorcha was to Brendan? His advisor?”
“Unofficially, yes,” he said. “She wasn’t good at it. She kept trying to push him into her way of thinking. With any strong ruler, that’s a stupid choice, and Brendan was wilder than most. Trying to contain him was a mistake. That’s why she battled you so much. She thought you were playing the game when you were really treating him like a normal person.”
“He wasn’t, though. A normal person, I mean. He would have been out of my reach as soon as he regained the throne.”
“As long as you’re aware of it,” he said. “Never forget that the likes of us aren’t on the same page as kings.”
“You should be.” I squeezed his shoulder. “You’re better than any old king.”
He glanced over his shoulder at me, his cheeks flushing pink. “Human terms mean little here, Cara.”
“I know. I just want you to know how I feel about you. You and Realtín made this bearable, but you’ve grown. You’ve left behind the tormented brownie who killed his queen. You’re stronger now. Realtín and I rely on you.”
He let out a shuddering sigh. Realtín felt no guilt, but I sometimes suspected that Grim did.
Later that afternoon, we came to a fork in the road. The main fork cut through a meadow that reminded me of the one in Brendan’s secret place. The cat hesitated briefly before running down the narrower path that wound back through the forest. I started walking alongside Dubh, but he gripped my hood and shook me fiercely.
“He needs to run,” Grim said from atop the horse’s back. “Get up here, Cara. We must make up some time.”
Bekind had vanished already, and Realtín was spinning above my head in agitation. I climbed onto Dubh, groaning at the aching in my legs. The saddle had become a legitimate form of torture. The faster Dubh rode, the worse I felt. I wasn’t used to that kind of exercise, and it showed. By the end of the day, I wanted to cry.
“Bekind!” Grim called eventually. “That’s enough for now. Cara won’t last if you keep this up.”
For once, Dubh obeyed when Grim pulled on the reins. The horse slowed then stopped.
Bekind appeared, the blue eyes of her woman’s form flashing with anger. “Pathetic,” she snapped. “We could be out of neutral territory by now if it wasn’t for her weakness.”
“I haven’t ridden this much before,” I said. “It hurts, Bekind.”
She shook her head. I saw tears in her eyes.
“If we hear anything, we can run,” Grim said. “For now, she needs rest. I’m tired, too.”
“Do you think I’m not tired?” Bekind asked in a low voice. “Do you think I’m not hurting?”
“How would we know?” I asked. “You never talk to us. You’re the cat most of the time. How are we supposed to know anything about you?”
She blinked a couple of times. “Fine. We’ll camp nearby. Tomorrow, you’ll have to ride twice as far, Cara. We’re not safe yet.”
“You don’t have to come with us,” I said. “You could give us directions or—”
“I have to stay with you!” She held up a hand. “We need to eat and rest. We’ve an early start in the morning.”
Grim and I exchanged a glance as she stormed through the trees.
I eased off the horse. “When does this get easier? I’m sore in places I didn’t know existed.”
“You’ll get used to it the hard way,” Grim said. “I’m sorry for that.”
“Not your fault.”
We found Bekind a while later. She had discovered a moderately sheltered spot next to a small pool of water.
“It’s clean and safe,” she said. “Drink from it but wash in a running stream in future. Pick from the fruit trees to preserve as much of Ivan’s food as possible. We’re going to need the meat.”
“I can hunt,” Grim said. “Fish perhaps, or a rabbit. Nothing larger, though. If we need meat, I can—”
“Save your energy,” she said. “The trip will be rough for you as well as the human.” She laid out a blanket, turned into a cat, and promptly fell asleep.
“She can hunt during the day,” Grim explained. “She doesn’t need to eat with us as often. We’ll eat the rest of the stew. It won’t be good tomorrow. In the morning, we can have the fruit before we leave.”
Grim built a fire and heated the food. While we waited, Realtín and I gathered some fruit.
“How come so much of the fruit is the same as what we have back home?” I asked her as we sea
rched.
“Someone probably liked them and decided they needed them in the fae realm, too. Or maybe it was the other way around.”
“What about the food at the queens’ festival? Where does that grow?”
Realtín laughed, the red juice of a berry staining her chin. “Food fit for a queen is only grown in their gardens. The likes of this is too common. Even if it does taste better. It’s all about appearances.”
We ate in silence, Bekind’s bad mood tainting the atmosphere. Once we lay down, I shivered under the blanket, unable to relax. I kept listening for noises, expecting someone to come for us at any minute.
I had a troubled sleep and was woken by the smell of something cooking over the fire. One small rabbit was strung above the fire. Grim had been hunting. We ate some of the meat for breakfast, and even Bekind seemed grateful.
Then, we got back on the road.
Chapter Four
That afternoon, I constantly shifted in the saddle to find some kind of relief that apparently didn’t exist. I could add horse riding to my list of regrets, or at least the fact I hadn’t tried it enough before our journey. The path darkened as the trees grew closer together, blocking out the sun.
“This is an old place,” Grim said. “I’ve never seen it before.”
“You’ll need to tend to her,” a voice called out from the trees.
Grim tensed in front of me. Even Dubh faltered a little. I looked around but saw no one. We kept riding.
About a mile down the road, the voice came again. “She won’t be able to ride tomorrow if you don’t help her.”
I looked all around us until I spotted a small figure high up on a branch.
Impossibly old, yet hanging out on the highest branch of the tree, she pointed at me. “There’ll be sores tonight. Fester, they will. We can help.”
Dubh slowed, and Bekind shifted form, her human face thunderous. She was way nicer as a cat. “Who are you?” she demanded. “What do you want?”
“I want nothing. I’m just passing on my wisdom. Isn’t that what we old crones are supposed to do?”