For the first time, I wondered what would happen when Brendan returned and how it would affect me. We had grown closer in ways that would never work for Drake and me, so close that I couldn’t bear the thought of Brendan suffering in the Fade. But when Drake touched me…
I was a plaything to both fae, and I wanted to stay with them so badly that I would put up with more than I should. I didn’t know how to break that cycle of longing and need and find my backbone again.
At the camp, I gathered Grim, Realtín, and Bekind and led them to a rock that gave us a good vantage point to observe the others. The new arrivals were obviously not as close knit. Anya and Líle had much in common, being friends of mine and daughters of Brighid, but there was a serious tension between Drake, Arlen, and Sorcha. Dubh wandered over to us and nibbled on my hair. He didn’t particularly seem to like the new horses either.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“I don’t trust Sorcha,” Realtín said.
“Drake said she made a deal with him. He won’t give the details except to say my safety was part of it. Besides, you don’t trust anyone, Realtín.”
She snorted. “Still. Brendan sent her away. Why would she help him now?”
“Maybe she thinks he’ll take back the throne and marry her if she does,” I said. “That’s what it’s about, right? Becoming queen, I mean.” I shivered at the thought of the fate of the last fae queens.
“Perhaps,” Bekind said. “But there’s too much secrecy, too many people with their own agendas. It makes my skin prickle.”
“But we’ll be safer. They have swords. Arlen, Líle, and Dymphna are pretty much exactly who you need in a battle, and Drake probably knows how to handle a sword, too. And Sorcha’s all… I’m the daughter of death. I’ll kill everything you love.”
The others laughed at my mimicry, and I knew I had them.
“A larger group won’t go unnoticed,” Grim said when we had sobered.
“The tunnellers might not have attacked us if we had been with a larger group in the first place,” Bekind conceded.
“I trust Líle and Anya with my life,” I said firmly.
“I hate to say it,” Realtín said, “but I agree with that. They are disgustingly loyal to Cara. Copycats.”
“We could take them and Dubh and run in the night,” I said uncertainly. “But Arlen’s loyal to Brendan, not Drake.” I didn’t really want to leave the watchful eye of Arlen, who always seemed to know exactly what he was doing.
“The others would only follow,” Bekind said. “Their devotion is tiresome.”
I called Líle and Anya over to catch up on the gossip I knew Anya would be dying to share. They sat on either side of me.
“Okay,” I said. “We all agree we trust you two. Can we trust the others?”
“You mean, can you trust Sorcha?” Líle asked.
“And Drake?” Anya added.
I shrugged. “What’s really going on here?”
“Pah. What isn’t going on?” Líle lay on her back.
“The ceremony went as planned,” Anya said. “There was Brendan, king again. Except he didn’t stay for the celebrations. Of course, Arlen was the first to realise something was very wrong.”
“How did he take it?” I asked.
“He was wild with rage,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. “He blamed us all, but when Líle explained what happened, he planned on covering for Drake until someone could figure out what to do next. Drake and Líle went to find you, Cara, but of course, you were gone already. That’s when we all started to think it would be a good idea to follow you.”
“But Sorcha?” I made a face.
“That makes us all uncomfortable. I don’t know how he can bear her presence, especially when this is all her fault. After all, if she didn’t try to kill you as she did, the priestesses wouldn’t have interfered, and—”
“And Drake would be gone by now instead,” I added thoughtfully. “But is she going to help us?”
When Anya hesitated, Líle nudged her and said, “Tell her.”
My heart constricted for a second.
“They seem very… close,” Anya said slowly. “They speak a lot in secret. There’s something going on. We just haven’t figured out what.”
A chill ran down my spine. Some portent of doom kept pricking me in the side. Something was wrong about the whole situation, but we could actually free Brendan together, so I had to ignore that until we survived the journey. “That’s… that has nothing to do with what we’re trying to do. This is about restoring the king… and having balance and calm again, right? So maybe we can work together for a while. Afterward, we can go our separate ways. That’s… that’s all we can hope for.”
Líle reached out and squeezed my ankle. “We’ll survive this. We’ll figure out the rest later. For now, we have to put up with Sorcha.”
I looked over at Drake. He was sitting in front of the fire, his face a mask. Sorcha sat next to him. She leaned closer to whisper in his ear then glanced over at me, smirking.
“Forget what I said,” Líle said sharply. “If you ask me to kill her, I will.”
I laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Líle grinned. “The offer still stands.”
“Why do you think they interfered? The priestesses, I mean.”
“Who knows why a deity does anything?” Bekind asked.
Anya scooted closer. “Maybe the mother really did look upon you in her garden. Maybe she’s as lost to the priestesses as she is to the rest of us. Maybe they’re trying to catch her attention or favour.”
“And this is the way to do it?” I shrugged. “Can’t say I understand how it all works, but I’m obviously glad I survived. It’s just so frustrating that Brendan is stuck there again. He had changed. He was trying to be a better man. And this is how he’s rewarded?”
“Everything happens for a reason,” Bekind said. “We’ll understand when we’re supposed to.”
We spent the rest of the evening watching Sorcha do her best to befriend Dymphna. Apparently, even banshees needed friends. For a while, Líle tried to teach me how to swing her sword properly, but she soon grew tired of laughing at my weak attempts.
That night we rested in two groups, while one person constantly kept watch. Drake was first, and he sat at the edge of the camp, a crease marring his forehead. I watched for as long as I could stay awake, desperately trying to figure out what he was thinking. He was Drake, just Drake, no other soul fighting for a place at the forefront, but I had never seen him so lost. I had never known him less.
Still, we were a lot safer. The family was back together. We just needed Brendan.
Chapter Seven
“Up! Quickly!” somebody shouted.
I opened my eyes and felt large drops of water fall on to my face. I started to speak, but a sheet of water poured on top of me. I sat up, spluttering. “What the…?”
“Come on!” Drake cried, pulling me to my feet.
I stumbled, but he caught me.
I shook my head and pulled away. “I’m fine.”
Torrential rain pelted down, stinging my arms and face. I threw on my robe and pulled up the hood, but it was already soaked. The rest of the group ran around, gathering our stuff.
“What’s happening?” I asked as I grabbed the bundle the Miacha had given me.
“The rain will flood the holes,” Drake said. “The sand is sinking. The tunnels must be collapsing. We have to get out of here. It’s too dangerous to wait.” He ran to his horse.
Blinking against the torrential rain, I saw Dubh. He looked distressed, his nostrils flaring. I pressed through the crowd of panicking fae to reach him.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, rubbing his nose. “We’ll be okay.” I looked around for my friends. “Grim!”
“I’m here,” he called from behind me. “We have everything. Let’s go.”
He climbed up first. I hadn’t had time to loosen up or chew on a leaf, so I struggled
without the stirrups and saddle to help me. Arlen pressed his hands against my backside and shoved me up onto the horse.
“Thanks,” I said wryly, but he was already gone. “Bekind, up with us!”
The black cat leaped in front of me, shivering and wet. I held her between our bodies, feeling a little bad for her. Realtín hid under my robe, trembling against my chest. I gripped the reins, and Dubh cantered away. His hooves sank into the sand, which collapsed around us, a soggy landslide slowing us down, but we soon made it past the worst of it. But we had no idea how far the tunnels went on, so we had to keep going.
I glanced over my shoulder to check on the others. Everyone was accounted for, but our camp had completely disappeared. It was as if a huge maw had opened in the sand and sucked everything down into the earth.
The rain beat in our eyes, and a wild wind blew hard, almost toppling Grim and me off the horse. The wet sand seemed to run on forever. I was miserable, even after the rain eased a little.
“Grim,” I whispered, realising the way I was feeling wasn’t natural, “what is this?”
“The way of the Darkside,” he replied. “It’s misery itself. Try to block it out, Cara. It’ll eat you up.”
I agreed, but it was hard to chain down the feelings. The warped magic I had felt since entering the Darkside was growing stronger, as if tugging us closer. It shattered my nerves like an overdose of fae magic to my system. And it would get worse.
We rode on in the rain and wind, barely able to lift our heads against the gale. My stomach growled. The riding made me hungrier than usual.
Grim glanced back at me. “As soon as it’s safe, we’ll stop so you can eat. Take a leaf now, if you can. The way is rough. We’ll all be feeling it tonight, not just you.”
“I’ll share the leaves,” I said.
“Don’t. Keep them for yourself.”
The sky was so dark that I wondered how Dubh could find his footing. But within an hour, streams of light had begun to creep across the horizon.
“Morning,” Realtín practically sang. Since the rain had stopped, she had been flying from one horse to another, urging everyone to hurry. Arlen had resorted to trying unsuccessfully to snatch her out of the sky.
With nowhere to take shelter from the wind, we rode on. After a while, we came upon a stretch of land that hadn’t experienced any rain at all. I looked over my shoulder at a storm that didn’t seem able to reach me anymore and shivered. Even the weather had a presence, as though it had a soul.
We passed a small camp with a tent. Whoever was within didn’t look outside or greet us, and we didn’t stop. We hadn’t seen any other travellers in a long time. It was as if we were in a forgotten part of the world.
“We can slow the pace,” Arlen called out eventually. “When we find a decent place with shelter, we’ll set up camp and dry off.”
Dubh slackened into a trot. He was far faster than the other horses. He was also taller, broader, and more intelligent. Maybe some faery horses were more valuable than others. But Ivan had given him to us freely, so I wondered why and what the cost would be.
Without the rain and wind stinging my eyes, I could look around. I was startled to realize we were a lot closer to the Hollow Hills. We had covered a hell of a lot of ground. I wondered what was behind the Hollows—or between them—and what was so scary about them. A huge mountain range cut through the river, but the way before us seemed clear enough. What lay beyond worried me the most.
Bekind leapt off the horse and disappeared. Realtín flew high in the sudden sunshine, her light streaming gold wherever she went. Arlen and Anya rode together a little ahead of the rest of us with Líle. Sorcha shared a horse with Dymphna, and along with Drake, they brought up the rear. Our group was together, and yet still disconnected, but at least we weren’t alone anymore.
The path widened, going through some woods that wound back away from the Hollows. Bekind had said we weren’t taking a direct route. I hoped she knew what she was doing. The distorted feeling in the air had lightened, making it easier for me to breathe. Maybe I had just imagined the magic I felt in the air and the heavy echoes of darkness that had shrouded us in the desert.
“I feel kinda safe now,” I told Grim.
“And you didn’t feel safe before?” Grim asked, pretending to be offended.
“At least now I know somebody’s watching out for you, too.” I threw back my hood, soaking up the sun. “That rain was crazy.”
“We’re not welcome here,” he said. “Nobody is. The land itself will do its best to push us back.”
My stomach rumbled, and my legs ached. “I think this is a two-leaf morning,” I said, looking through the bundle.
Drake trotted up next to us as I popped the leaf into my mouth. He reached out and touched my knee. The sense of relief I used to get from his touch had vanished. I figured it was because I was in the fae realm. Everything around me was a fae touch, even the wind blowing my hair out of my face.
“Are you ill?” he asked, motioning at the bundle.
I shook my head. “Just not used to riding. Harder than it looks to gallop for hours for us mere mortals.”
He hesitated. “You’ve lost weight. Maybe—”
“I’m not going back.”
He smiled, taking me back to other times. “I was going to say that maybe you should eat larger portions of food today to get your strength back up.”
“I’m fine.” I glanced around, struggling to find something else to think about. Nobody else was suffering on their horse; nobody else was as tired and weak. I didn’t want to be the weakest link. “Why are you so short on horses?”
He shrugged. “Anya didn’t want to ride alone, and when Sorcha came to us, she had none. We were already on our journey, so…” He looked away, his face reddening.
“So?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “So she rode with me.”
Realtín snorted and settled on my shoulder.
“But not today,” I said sharply.
“I told her she couldn’t ride with me anymore,” he said in a soft voice.
“Why? Afraid I’ll get hysterical?” I felt Grim shaking with mirth.
“No! I just… I didn’t want to talk about the things she wants to talk about today.”
I decided to torture him a little further. “Such as?”
He gave me a weary look. “Does it matter?”
Taking pity on him, I shrugged.
After a few minutes of riding in silence, he turned to me again. “Where did you get the horse?”
“Bekind… found him.”
“He’s a good horse.”
“He’s the best horse.”
Dubh snickered softly then galloped away, leaving Drake in our dust. Laughing, I held on, relishing the freedom, despite the aching in my thighs.
“Enough,” Grim said, pulling on the reins as if either of us could make Dubh do anything other than exactly what he wanted to do. “You’re a show off, Dubh.”
Dubh slowed and pranced like a show pony. Bekind appeared on the road then vanished into the trees again. Dubh trotted after her.
“Cara!” Drake called, sounding confused.
I waved back at the others. “We’re going this way!” I ignored the irritated looks on their faces. “Good boy, Dubh.”
Grim gave a little laugh.
I lightly thumped his shoulder. “They can’t just come along and make all of the rules. We were doing fine without them.”
Grim nodded. “But Drake seemed upset.”
I had noticed that. “Maybe he’s worried about what will happen when we reach the Fade. Or when Brendan returns. Or what’s happening in his absence. Do you think the daoine sídhe can control things while he’s gone?”
“Yes, but who knows what can happen?” He looked around. “Do you hear that?”
I cocked my head. I heard the crashing of water. “What is that?”
Dubh followed the sound until the trees opened up and revealed a wide expan
se of water falling from a high cliff.
I gaped at it. “A waterfall!”
We stepped onto a ledge. A curved path wound around in a downward slope, but in the centre was the waterfall and a gloriously clear pool. The rock face was smooth except for some etchings I didn’t understand. The place was surrounded by trees and fruit bushes. Birds sang from the branches, something I hadn’t experienced since we’d left neutral territory. Beyond the pool, there was more than enough space for us to make camp.
“This is perfect,” I whispered. “Bekind? Where are you? How did you find this place?”
I carefully slipped off Dubh’s back. I found the cat sitting on a flat rock, soaking up a patch of sun. I knelt next to her and rubbed her ears. I tended to forget she was a real person. Dubh wandered down to a separate pond I hadn’t noticed and drank before heading into the trees.
“Wait!” I called.
He returned and stood obediently still while we unloaded him. Bridle-free, he tossed his head, nibbled on my hood, and trotted off.
“I kinda love that horse,” I told Grim.
He made a face as he leaned one of our bags against a tree. “You love the contrary horse. Why am I not surprised?”
“Leave her be,” Realtín said, darting down to pat his head.
I took a look at Dubh’s pond. Little koi-looking fish were darting around in the water. Their vibrant colours looked like flashes beneath the surface.
“This will be our last comfort,” Grim said. “It looks totally unspoiled by the darkness. We won’t find the likes of this again.”
“Which means it totally is spoiled, but let’s hope we don’t see how until we leave,” I said, throwing off my robe.
“What on earth are you doing?” Grim asked, turning his back as I started stripping.
“Going swimming,” I said joyfully.
I stank of horse and dampness. I wanted to scrub every grain of sand that had stuck to my body, every inch of dirt and grime that clung to my skin. I wanted to feel clean again. But most of all, I wanted the buoyancy of the water to hold up my aching limbs. In my underwear, I ran and jumped straight into the water with a loud squeal. I floated for a moment before diving under. The water was warm and clean, and I didn’t want to get out again.